“Goodness me, there’s that rat again!” cried Maggie. “I’ll set the trap for that rat this very night.”
“Oi hope ye catch him,” said Pat. “Oi wish ye’d be after telling me whether me voice is tenor eleven.”
Once more he sang:
“O the days of the Kerry dancing,
O the ring of the poiper’s tune!
O for one of those hours av gladness,
Gone, alas! like our youth, too soon.”
“Lovely! lovely! lovely!” gushed Maggie. “A man who can sing like that must have a beautiful disposition.”
“Oi have,” assured McGee. “Av Oi iver git married, Oi’ll trate me wife roight. Av she cooks me meals, washes the dishes, split the wood, brings in the coal, takes in washing, and kapes the household running dacently, Oi’ll nivver hit her.”
At this moment there came a sudden crash from the cold closet.