Where the Atlantic meets the land

by H. Caldwell Lipsett

'Where are ye for?' said the stranger shortly.

'It's a saft day, yer 'ahner, an' where am I for, is it? Well, I'll just tell ye, it's Derry I'm for, that same, an' mebbe ye'll infarm me if I'm on the right road.' And Barney giggled vacantly.

'What are you laughing at, fool?'

'Laffin' is it me, yer 'ahner? Troth I was only—'

'Don't stand bletherin' there,' interrupted the other angrily. 'What'll ye be doin' at Derry?'

'At Derry? He! he! he! That's just fwhat I was tould not to let an to a livin' sowl, but there can be no harrum, musha, in tellin' a fine jintleman like yersilf now, kin there now? I'm goin' to Derry for two hunner pund. That's what I'll be doin'. What do ye say to that?'

'An' who'd give you two hundred pounds, ye cod ye?'

'Two hunner pun', he! he! he! two hunner pun'..!'

'Look here, my good fellow, does this money belong to you?'

'Me is it? No for shure, it's the masther's.'