"God bless the work!" says he.
"You too," says I.
"Would ye lend me the loan of a harness," says he, "to drive Anne Roche"—(that's his wife)—"to town on Pathrick's Day?"
The dear knows, says I to meself, if I walked two mile asking a harness it isn't to drive that one I'd ask it!
"I will to be sure," says I, "and welcome, but is it to town you're going on Pathrick's Day in place of going to Kyleranny? Sure you know yourself there's the fun of Cork in Kyleranny when the Hunt's in it on a Holy-day!"
"I believe so indeed," says he.
"Faith you do believe it," says I. "D'ye remember one time," I says, "when the Hunt was in it, Stephen's Day it was, you comin down Knockranny Hill hoppin' a quarther of a mile on your one leg, and the other foot fasht in the stirrup, and the owld mare you had that time throttin' on always. The Smith said it was the pleasantest thing ever he seen!"
"God be with the owld days!" says William, "that was long ago times, before I was married," says he.
"Thrue for you!" says I.
"Will ye lend me the harness?" says he to me again.