There was a snigger av a laugh at this; for Tammas was well known to be no great feeder av cattle.
But Tammas wasn’t to be tuk down so aisy.
“Niver mind, Billy,” sez he; “av you were put on shavin’s for a week or two, ye’d maybe see your boots again before you died.”
There was another laugh at this, an’ that started a bit av jokin’ all round—a good dale av it at the dimonsthrator; till he was near beside himself. For, divil a dhrop av crame had put in an appearance yet.
All at wanst he stoops down close to the milk.
“Bring me a candle here,” sez he, very sharp.
Tammas reaches over a sconce off the wall. The dimonsthrator bends over the can, then dips the point av his finger in it, an’ puts it in his mouth.
“What’s this?” sez he, lookin’ very mad at Tammas. “This isn’t milk at all.”
“Not milk,” sez Tammas. “It must be milk. I got it where you tould me, Mary.”