Mrs. O’Brien: Shure and Oim afther buyin’ shoes for all the chilrun. There’s Betsy aged noine, she’s me roight-hand girrul. Then there’s Pat ond Moike, twins they be both borrun at the same toime and sick limbs of Satan yez niver see, bless their hearuts. They’re siven. Then there’s Norah, she’s foive, the swatest crather that iver wuz hit she wears out her souls loike they wuz paper. And there’s the baby, he’s jest crapin’, his name be Rory afther his dad.
Jack [picks up large box]: Here is just what you need, Mrs. O’Brien, boots in family lots. [Empties them out.] They come cheaper that way. [Pulls out very small shoe.] Now, these are just the thing for Betsy.
Mrs. O’Brien: Bless me sowl! Me Betsy could niver git aven her big toe into the loikes of them. They’re more Norah’s size.
Jack: That’s right. I meant Norah. My mistake. [Pulls out two pairs.] And these will suit the twins, Rory and Mike—
Mrs. O’Brien: Shure and Rory is six years behint Moike in comin’ into the worruld. It’s Pat—
Jack: Oh yes, of course, Pat and Mike. They always go together. Well these will suit—
Mrs. O’Brien: But shure and me Pat tikes a larger size than Moike as his fate are bigger.
Jack: All the better, one of these is a size larger than the other. Family lots are always sold that way. Now here’s the baby’s [holds up bootees] and here’s [holds up a larger shoe] one pair for the baby to grow into as its— [Mrs. O’Brien throws up her hands.] Why, what’s the matter?
Mrs. O’Brien: Och, a—nee—o! And it’s mesilf that be the unnathural parunt. Oi don’t be desarvin’ to have chilrun, Oi don’t. Here be me Danny at home waitin’ to fill them shoes and me forgittin’ all about the darlint. Oi’ll be afther takin’ them all, Misther Wilson, and plaze wrap them in that pi’tcher page. [Points to colored supplement.] So that the chilrun can look at the pitchers. [Jack wraps them up..]