“‘Arrah, why, Harry? Why, avick?’
“‘Why, the sun’s in the suds, and the moon in the high Horricks; there’s a clip-stick comin’ on, and there you’re both as unconsarned as if it was about to rain mether. Go out an’ cross yourselves three times in the name o’ the four Mandromarvins, for, as the prophecy says:—‘Fill the pot, Eddy, supernaculum—a blazin’ star’s a rare spectaculum.’ Go out, both of you, an’ look at the sun, I say, an’ ye’ll see the condition he’s in—off!’
“Begad, sure enough, Jack gave a bounce to the door, and his wife leaped like a two-year-ould, till they were both got on a stile beside the house to see what was wrong in the sky.
“‘Arrah, what is it, Jack?’ says she, ‘can you see anything?’
“‘No,’ says he, ‘sorra the full of my eye of anything I can spy, barrin’ the sun himself, that’s not visible, in regard of the clouds. God guard us! I doubt there’s something to happen.’
“‘If there wasn’t, Jack, what’d put Harry, that knows so much, in that state he’s in?’
“‘I doubt it’s this marriage,’ says Jack. ‘Betune ourselves, it’s not over an’ above religious of Moll to marry a black-mouth, an’ only for—; but, it can’t be helped now, though you see it’s not a taste o’ the sun is willing to show his face upon it.’
“‘As to that,’ says his wife, winkin’ with both eyes, ‘if Gusty’s satisfied with Moll, it’s enough. I know who’ll carry the whip hand, anyhow; but in the manetime let us ax Harry within what ails the sun?’
“Well, they accordingly went in, and put this question to him, ‘Harry, what’s wrong, ahagur? What is it now, for if anybody alive knows ’tis yourself?’