Bloom. So, ma’am, shall I call the girl up, that we may see and talk to her? I think, ma’am, you’ll find she will do; and I reckon to keep her under my own eye and advice from morning till night: for when I seed the girl so willing to larn, I quite took a fancy to her, I own—as it were.
Mrs. Carv. Well, Bloomsbury, let me see this Honor McBride.
Bloom. (calling) One of you there! please call up Honor McBride.
Mrs. Carv. She has been waiting a great while, I fear; I don’t like to keep people waiting.
Bloom. (watching for HONOR as she speaks) Dear heart, ma’am, in this here country, people does love waiting for waiting’s sake, that’s sure—they got nothing else to do. Here, Honor—walk in, Honor,—rub your shoes always.
Enter HONOR, timidly.
Mrs. Carv. (in an encouraging voice) Come in, my good girl.
Bloom. Oh! child, the door: the peoples never shut a door in, Ireland! Did not I warn you?—says I, “Come when you’re called—do as you’re bid—shut the door after you, and you’ll never be chid.” Now what did I tell you, child?
Honor. To shut the door after me when I’d come into a room.
Bloom. When I’d come—now that’s not dic’snary English.