"They'd no call to go lavin' me all by meself."
"Troth they hadn't, mavourneen," agreed Pat, clackling his tongue sympathetically. "It was too hard on ye, altogether, but sure you won't cry now, there's a good little girl; crying never done any one a ha'porth o' good yit. Look at me here wid all my ould bones broke; I might cry the two eyes out o' my head an' never a wan at all ud' get mended for me."
Roseen sat up blinking. "Did it hurt ye much, Misther Clancy, when your bones was broke on ye?"
"Is it hurt, bedad! Ye'd hear me bawlin' up at the crass roads. Sure I thought it was killed I was! My ancistor couldn't have shouted louder when he had the Earl Strongbow's spear stuck in him. Will I tell ye about that, alanna, to pass the time till herself comes in?"
Roseen shook her head discontentedly.
"I know that story," she said. "I wisht ye'd tell me about the Spider an' the Gout though, Misther Clancy. Ah do, an' I'll sit here listenin' as quiet as a mouse."
Pat rubbed his unshaven chin with the lean fingers of his one serviceable hand, the bristles of his week-old beard making a rasping sound the while, and glanced down sideways at the eager little petitioner.
"Is it the Spider an' the Gout?" he said, knitting his brows with affected reluctance. "Sure I am sick an' tired tellin' ye that. No, but I'll tell ye 'The little man and the little woman that lived in the vinegar bottle.' ... Wanst upon a time, there was a weeshy-dawshy little man—'"
"Ah no, Misther Clancy, I don't care for that," interrupted Roseen, jumping up and clapping her hands to her ears. "It's a horrible ould story. They'd have been drownded," she added seriously.
Pat chuckled. "Well, sit down, an' don't offer to say a word unless you hear me goin' out. Sure maybe I disremember it altogether."