John O'Brien shook him cordially by the hand, and replied—“I will make it a point to let you know anything that our family may hear from him.”
“An' if you write to him, sir, just in a single line, to say that the affectionate ould friend never forgot him.”
“That, too, shall be done,” replied John; “you may rest assured of it.”
The Bodagh, whose notions in matters of delicacy and feeling were rough but honest, now rang the bell with an uncommon, nay, an angry degree of violence.
“Get up some spirits here, an' don't be asleep. You must take a glass of whiskey before you go,” he said, addressing Nogher.
“Sir,” replied Nogher, “I'm in a hurry home, for I'm aff my day's work.”
“By —-, but you must,” rejoined the
Bodagh; “and what's your day's wages?”
“Ten pence.”
“There's half-a-crown; an' I tell you more, you must come an' take a cot—tack undher me, and you'll find the change for the betther, never fear.”