'"An' take care," says he, "don't smother the crathur," says he.
'Well, as soon as the bird was gone, says Jer Garvan says he:
'"Do you know what that ould gandher IS, Terence Mooney?"
'"Divil a taste," says Terence.
'"Well then," says Jer, "the gandher is your own father," says he.
'"It's jokin' you are," says Terence, turnin' mighty pale; "how can an ould gandher be my father?" says he.
'"I'm not funnin' you at all," says Jer; "it's thrue what I tell you, it's your father's wandhrin' sowl," says he, "that's naturally tuck pissession iv the ould gandher's body," says he. "I know him many ways, and I wondher," says he, "you do not know the cock iv his eye yourself," says he.
'"Oh blur an' ages!" says Terence, "what the divil will I ever do at all at all," says he; "it's all over wid me, for I plucked him twelve times at the laste," says he.
'"That can't be helped now," says Jer; "it was a sevare act surely," says he, "but it's too late to lamint for it now," says he; "the only way to prevint what's past," says he, "is to put a stop to it before it happens," says he.
'"Thrue for you," says Terence, "but how the divil did you come to the knowledge iv my father's sowl," says he, "bein' in the owld gandher," says he.