"Well, it was the yollow jandhers."
"Very good, avic; that's makin' a fair offer at it."
"I thought so, myself," said Darby, "more by token when there was a dog in my dhrame next; and that's a frind, you know."
"Right, avic."
"And he had a silver collar an him."
"O, bad luck to that silver collar, Darby; what made you dhrame o' silver at all?"
"Why, what harm?"
"O, I thought you knew bether nor to dhrame o' silver; why, cushla machree, sure silver is a disappointment all the world over."
"O murther!" said Darby, in horror, "and is my dhrame spylte by that blackguard collar?"
"Nigh hand indeed, but not all out. It would be spylte only for the dog, but the dog is a frind, and so it will be only a frindly disappointment, or maybe a fallin' out with an acquaintance."