"It was wan word for the gossoon, as he calls him, an' two for himself, Bill," chimed in the man on the next ridge. "Don't hurry Tom Nolan; his feet's sore afther all he danced with Nelly Gaffeny last night."
Here there was a loud and general laugh at poor Tom Nolan's expense, and the pickers—women and girls, with handkerchiefs tied over their heads looked up with one accord, annoyed that they were too far off to hear the joke. It was well for one of them that they had not heard it, for Nelly Gaffeny was amongst them.
"It's many a day, Pat, since you seen the likes of them turned out of a ridge."
"They bate the world."
"They bang Banagher; and Banagher, they say—"
"Whist, Larry; don't be dhrawing that chap down at all."
"I seen but wan betther the year," said Tim Meaney.
"I say you didn't, nor the sorra take the betther, nor so good."
"Arra, didn't I? I say I did though."
"Where, avic ma cree?"