“I moind.”
“And they’ve struck up a bargain to go into partnership yer see, and to-morrow they want to be hitched.”
“Before the praste you mane,” said Barney, a little doubtfully.
“Well, thar won’t be much priest business about it,” said Snorter. “But you’ve got the hang of it. They’ll strike hands and let folks see as how they’ve mutually ’greed to hitch hosses.”
“I moind,” said Barney.
“Well, then you see,” continued Snorter, “the young bridegroom thar he wanted to have a little blow out, acos he was never hitched afore in his life, so the cap’en has made over two barrels o’ whisky and a big lot o’ tobacker to him, sort o’ weddin’ present you know, and the young sardine has invited all his red and white friends to come to the blow-out, which will take place to-morrow at the little shanty he’s going to live in.”
“But what has all this to do with this gentleman from Clonakilty?” demanded Barney.
“Oh!” cried Snorter, “I thought as how you’d guessed it. Yer see he’s going to have company, lots of it, and plenty to eat an’ drink, but whar’s the band to come from, whar’s the band?”
“Eh, the band?”
“Certainly,” said Snorter; “what kind of a ceremony would it be if you didn’t dance, and how are you going to do it without music?”