I took the hint, and said, 'Very well, then, we'll make for Biddy's. But how is it that there's a shebeen left in this part of the country? I thought that the priests had stamped out the illicit liquor trade hereabouts.'
'Ay, so they have. But, ye see, Biddy's a Protestant, an' can snap her fingers at them.'
'Then there's some advantage in being a Protestant, after all.'
'Ah, what's a sup of putcheen to a quiet min', av yer a Protestant ye have to bear the load av yer own sins instid av the prastes bearin' it for you, an' givin' ye a wee bit penance ivery now an' thin. Av I was yous I couldn't lay quiet in me bed for thinkin' ov me sins.
'Talkin' ov Ameriky,' continued Hughie, for once started talking he never stopped, 'there's Annie M'Gay kim back from it Friday's a week that fine that ye wudn't know her. I wus seein' her yistherday, and axed her if her tay wus to her taste, an' she ups an' says, says she, "The shuperfluity ov the shugar has spoilt the flavoracity ov the tay." Boys, but she's the gurl wot can use the gran' long wurruds,' and Hughie rolled the syllables over again lovingly in his mouth.
'That minds me,' he continued, 'ov a day we had yestherday's a month. It was a fine day, the Duke of Donegal was havin' a shutin' party, an' me an' twinty others was the baters. A broilin' day it was, an' we got a drouth on us ye cud cut wid a knife. The Duke he's a fine hospitable man, an' he giv us a barrel of porther for lunch, an' as much as we cud ate wi' lashin's an' lavin's to spare. An' we finished the porther betwixt us, an' was fair sighin' for more. Whin we kim to Farmer Gavigan's, an' he axed us in an' giv us whisky all roun', beautiful whisky it was, it wint down that soft, like mother's milk. But the head-keeper he hears of it, an' he comes up rampin' an' ravin', an' he says, says he,—
'"Farmer Gavigan," he says, "I'm surprised at yous, givin' these men whisky on the top ov porther, an' thim just foamin' for a fight."
'"An' why wudn't they fight?" says Farmer Gavigan; "ducks will go barefut."
'"Troth, they'll khill other."
'"Ah, lit them khill away," says he; he's a fine raisonable man is Farmer Gavigan.' And Hughie licked his lips at the luscious recollection.