"Och, no indade, mum. They're there."
"Where? I don't see them."
And my eyes ran around the table.
"They're wid the ta mum, sure!"
"With the tea?"
"Sure, mum, they're wid the ta. Ye towld me yees wanted the sausages wid the ta; and sure they're there. I biled 'em well."
A light now flashed over my mind. Throwing up the lid of the tea urn, I thrust in a fork, which immediately came in contact with a hard substance. I drew it forth, and exhibited a single link of a well "biled" sausage.
Let me draw a veil over what followed.