'Troth thin it's him that might do betther than thrapesin' about the counthry afther yon flibbertigibbet,' said Hannah with heat.
'Ay,' replied her antagonist with a leer, 'yous had ahlways a saft spot for him yersilf, I doubt,' and the girl retired defeated from the contest.
'What bets me,' said Mac slowly, 'is what ud ail them not to be married quiet at home. Who's hinderin' them?'
A sigh passed through the group as they settled themselves down to consider this new aspect of the case.
Suddenly old Patsey took the pipe out of his mouth and spat upon the ground, then he leant forward deliberately while every one waited, took a red-hot turf coal from the fire with his naked fingers and sucked at it with his dhudeen, gradually cramming it down into the bowl until it had all crumbled away, then he said:
'Andy Sweeny's dahter cudn't do other.'
'Ah,' said one of the younger men interrogatively.
'He was a wild shpark, he was,' continued Patsey, meditatively, 'I doubt it's the father's blood she has in her. He was terrible fond of the gurls, so he was,' and the old man shook his head over a failing that had never appealed to him, and did not belong to his race.
'What call had oul' Peggy to take the likes ov yon?' asked Mac.
'Ahl ov us is young wanst in our lives,' replied Patsey sententiously, 'and he was a terrible han'some man. He was not from these parts, a packman from down Longford way: an' Masther Johnnie, what's home from school—'