“‘What have you there?’ says he; and begins turning over every ha’porth in the pack on the ground beside me, the mouth of it being open; and his hands shaking as if he was all of a thrimble; and Rosy watching him with her eyes dancing, and still not asking to touch annything herself.
“‘I have all soarts here,’ says I to him, making answer, ‘but sure it’s what I’m thinking it should some kind of a ring yous will be wanting....’
“‘You just got it!’ he says; ‘but I doubt have you one good enough for us ... ah! there’s a nice neckercher ... we’ll take that, at anny rate ... do you remimber, Rosy? Is this as good as the one you offered to tie up that cut of mine...?’ and they both laughed out.
“‘I’d wish it a taste brighter,’ he says.
“‘Sure, isn’t it grand!’ says she ... ‘but Art! look at them for pickthers!’ and couldn’t stop herself, only taking up first one and then another....
“‘Would you wish e’er a one of them?’ he says.
“‘They’d be aisy carrit,’ says I; ‘and more betoken, yous wouldn’t be getting them so raisonable as I can sell them, from them that has shops and rent to pay....’
“‘They’d look pleasant and homely, annywhere we’d be!’ says Rosy.
“So they chose out a half-dozen or so; the Death of Lord Edward; and Emmet in the Dock, and so and so on; and they bid me to bring this one to you, and I was to say how that they were off to the Big Smoke[5] to have the wedding there, at your sister’s....”
“Ay, she’s there in Dublin, this linth of time,” says the Widdah, quite composed now, and she smiling all over with joy.