'Be the powers o' war! here's a battered head-piece for yez,' said young Tim Moran, who had picked up the cranium, and was eyeing it curiously, turning it round the while.
'Show it here, Tim;' 'let me look,' cried two or three neighbours, getting round as quickly as they could.
'Oh! murdher;' said one.
'Oh! be the powers o' Moll Kelly!' cried another.
'Oh! bloody wars!' exclaimed a third.
'That poor fellow got no chance for his life at all, at all!' said Tim.
'That was a bullet,' said one of them, putting his finger into a clean circular aperture as large as a half-penny.
'An' look at them two cracks. Och, murther!'
'There's only one. Oh, I see you're right, two, begorra!'
'Aich o' them a wipe iv a poker.'