"Who is interrupting now?" demanded Moore in wrathful tones.
"Well, the lassie has took up kapin kump'ny on the sly wid some strange laddybuck, whom nobody knows a t'ing about, and will hardly look at the dairyman's son Ike, wid whom she has been thrainin' these t'ree years."
"The faithless hussy!" ejaculated the poet, in scathing condemnation.
"Hush!" said Bessie, now scenting a love story, and correspondingly interested.
"So Isaac--that's the son of the dairyman, you know--"
"I 'm satisfied on that point, if the dairyman is," observed Moore, wickedly.
Bessie took a pin from her dress.
"I 'll punch you with this if you don't behave, Tom Moore."
"Is that a joke, Bessie?"
"Yes, you 'll think so."