“Never mind, what is it?”
“Well, Sorr, Oi don’t seem ter call ter moinde th’ lad thot’s been afther sayin’ an’ doin’ some av thim things.”
The excitement had evidently been too much for Michael’s head, but to soothe him I asked,
“What lad, Clancy?”
“Daypont, Sorr.”
“Daypont?” I repeated.
Then I picked up the affidavit, and light dawned upon me.
“You don’t mean deponent, do you?”
“’Tis the same, Sorr—Shure he niver wurrked fer thim in all me toime.”