“Arrah, man! won't I lend you mine? Sure, we'll exchange.”
“Well, but suppose I lost?”
“Thin you'd strip yourself, and I'd black you.”
“But why strip myself, Michael?”
“Don't the crocodiles always catch people that's swimming? And suppose they didn't, don't the blacks go naked? They do, Thady: so that if you were in your clothes, the crature couldn't know you were a man, and we wouldn't catch him. If there was a fish that ate apples, you wouldn't bait your hook with a dumpling, would you?”
“I wouldn't: still, I couldn't leave my clothes.”
“Why not, thin, eh?”
“Bekase there's my bull and my hog in the pocket; and I'd not like to risk them, with nobody on the bank, but yourself, to take care o' them.”
“I don't know how it is, Thady, but nothing plazes you;—you're too particular by half.”
“I'm fool enough to be too fond of my money, I'm afraid.”