"M-m-m-m-mornin'!" he stammered.
They were out of breath, and could hardly speak. Sammy began to look frightened; it was so easy to scare his few wits away.
"Oh, Sammy, she's comin' after yer pig," Fly panted.
"Wh-wh-wh-where?" Sammy shouted.
"Along the road," said Patsy; "she'll be here in a minute; a long string of a woman with a black dress on. She's clean mad to get at it; ye'd better be out, an' chase her."
"L-l-l-l-let me at her!" roared Sammy, picking up his bucket.
"She's comin' to kill it, Sammy," said Mick; "she come all the way from England to do it."
Sammy was dancing on the doorstep. "Hide down behind the wall till she comes," said Patsy, and they pulled Sammy down with them.
"Whist, Sammy; be quiet, man, till she comes," said Mick—for Sammy was snorting and quivering. "I'll give ye the word when I see her."