Jane forgot to crow over him in her interest. "What'd she die of, Patsy?" she said.
Patsy stopped. "Ye know that wee public-house as ye go into town, just as ye turn down North Street?" he said. Jane nodded. "She kep' that, the man tould me, an' she died a' hard work.'
"I niver heerd of any person dyin' of that afore," said Jane.
"Well, she did," said Patsy, "for I heard the sexton ast the man, an' he said she died a' labour."
"I wonder if it's catchin'?" said Jane.
Patsy walked on whistling.
"But what tuk ye to the woman's feeneral at all, Patsy?" Jane asked.
"I just went for the fun a' the thing," he said.
"Sure, there's no fun in that," said Jane.
"Isn't there just?" said Patsy. "That's all you know; I tell ye it's the quare ould sport." He stopped, and counted up on his fingers: "That makes two weman's, two childers', and one man's feeneral I've been chief mourner to since Christmas."