“Why, thin, you're a lunatic,—so you are. Suppose you lost your bull—tell me now, where'd your hog be?”
“Gone to try to bring back my bull, may be. I don't think we'll try for a sea-cow, or a whale, Michael.”
“Thin you'll be contint with catching wullawaughs and shrimps, is it?”
“Not exactly: I'd like to try for a whale, but not so as to risk what money I have.”
“Well, I'll tell you what we'll do:—let us set up a show.”
“That plazes me. But what'll we shew, Michael? Is it your reap-hook, that's worn out doing divil a ha'p'orth but going to the grinstone?—or your rope, bekase you found it?”
“No, Thady; that wouldn't do: but I think if you'd tar and feather yourself, I might make something of you, by swearing you were a monster,—a big bird I caught on a furze-bush with bird-lime.”
“I'll not consint to that; for if you'd be showman, you'd take all the money.”
“And what thin?”
“Suppose you took yourself off one day?”