Teag. O, my dear shoy, she was buried in all manner of pomp, pride, and splendour—a fine coffin, with cords in it; and within the coffin, along with herself, she got a pair of new brogues, a penny candle, a good, hard-headed old hammer, with an Irish sixpenny piece, to pay her passage at the gate, and what more could she look for?
Tom. I really think you gave her enough along with her, but you ought to have cried for her, if it was no more but to be in the fashion.
Teag. And why should I cry without sorrow, when we hired two criers to cry all the way before her to keep her in the fashion?
Tom. And what do they cry before a dead woman?
Teag. Why, they cry the common cry, or funeral lament, that is used in our Irish country.
Tom. And what manner of cry is that, Paddy?
Teag. Dear Tom, if you don't know I'll tell you. When any person dies there is a number of criers goes before, saying, "Luff, fuff, fou, allelieu, dear honey, what aileth thee to die! It was not for want of good butter milk and potatoes."
Part III.
Tom. Well, Paddy, and what did you do when your wife died?
Teag. Dear honey, what would I do? Do you think I was such a big fool as to die too? I am sure if I had I would not have got fair play, when I am not so old yet as my father was when he died.