Patsy. Maw, ain't it most time to go?
Mrs. Mulligan. It lacks two hours yet of the time, and Matsy ain't come back with the goat. Whatever's become of Shamus O'Brien I'd like to know. Which of yeez seen him last?
Nora. I saw him this mornin'. He was eatin' a tin tomato can down in the alley.
Mrs. Mulligan. The poor thing! Now I suppose I'll have a sick goat on me hands on top of all me other troubles—and tomorrow's Christmas Day.
Bridget. Maw, suppose they won't let us in the Sunday School at all, at all. We don't belong to that Sunday School. What'll we do then?
Mrs. Mulligan. Indade they'll not turn yeez away on Christmas Eve. I chose that Sunday School for yeez to attend because it's the largest and the most fashionable in town. Mrs. Beverly Brewster goes there, and wherever Mrs. Beverly Brewster goes, sure yeez can count on it, it's bound to be most fashionable and select.
Mary Ann. But we never went there before. They'll think it's awfully nervy fer us to come buttin' in at their Christmas entertainment.
Mrs. Mulligan. Niver once will they. They'll welcome yeez with open arms and many Christmas prisints. And whatever yeez get be sure and say, "Thank yeez kindly and much obliged." Can ye do that?
All. Oh, yes, mum.
Mrs. Mulligan. Clarissa, look out'n the door and see if ye see anything of Matsy and the goat.