Moya.—I thought your husband was drowned at sea?
Mrs. O'K.—And bless him, so he was.
Moya.—Well, that's a quare way o' dying o' drink.
Mrs. O'K.—The best of men he was, when he was sober—a betther never drhawed the breath o' life.
Moya.—But you say he never was sober.
Mrs. O'K.—Niver! An' Conn takes afther him!
Moya.—Mother, I'm afeared I shall take afther Conn.
Mrs. O'K.—Heaven forbid, and purtect you agin him! You a good dacent gurl, and desarve the best of husbands.
Moya.—Them's the only ones that gets the worst. More betoken yoursilf, Mrs. O'Kelly.
Mrs. O'K.—Conn niver did an honest day's work in his life—but dhrinkin' and fishin', an' shootin', an' sportin', and love-makin'.