But, if you like, dear, at once put a stop on me
Life with a scowld.
Red-haired Kate Ryan?—Don’t mention her name to me!
I’ve a taste, Maureen darlin’, whatever I do.
But I kissed her?—Ah, now, would you even that same to me?—
Ye saw me! Well, well, if ye did, sure it’s true,
But I don’t want herself or her cows, and small blame to me
When I know you.
There now, aroon, put an ind to this strife o’ me
Poor frightened heart, my own Maureen, my duck;