The Bunsby Papers (second series): Irish Echoes
Peggy, in a bland and condescending tone of voice, he moderated his impatience down to the true keep-your-distance point. 

 "Well, ma'm," said he, "so you've brought the tops at last, after me waitin' for them a tremenjus course of time; tell that waxy conglomeration of cobblin' connubiality, Mr. Duff, your husband, that, in consequence of his haynious neglect, I have been obligated to annihilate my usual run wid the Ballinasquash hounds. What's the remuneration?" 

 "If you mane the pay, sir," replied Peg, with a reverence, "it's on'y a shillin'." 

 "I have no small pecuniation in the way of silver," said Bulworthy, plunging his great fist into his enormous pocket, and rattling several gold pieces about in a most tantalizing manner, a general practice with purse-proud ignorance, adding, with characteristic meanness, "can you change me a sovreign?" 

 Poor Peggy's face flushed up to the roots of her hair; he knew she couldn't, and she knew he knew so. 

 "Indeed, sir," said she, "It wouldn't be convaynent just now;" and it was with difficulty she restrained herself from hinting that it was only recently that he himself had the power to put the insolent question. 

 "Well, then, ma'm," said he, pompously; "all I can say is, that you must pedestrianize in this vicinity on some anterior opportunity; for the present, you can perambulate—to make myself understandable to your limited capacities—walk!" 

 "Yes sir, thank you, sir," replied Peggy, humbly courtesying to the domestic sultan, and only wondering how he could keep any teeth in his head, using such hard words. 

 "Good mornin' to you, Squire," she said, as she retired, "Here's wishin' you safe through the dictionary." 

 "What does the oleaginous faymale mane; oh! these abominaceous phlebians laugh at me, in spite of all I can do to impress them with the importance of my station; with all the pride of my brick building, I can't altogether root out the recollection of the little grocery; and, indeed, if it comes to that," he continued, with a real sigh, "I used to be a great deal happier when I was scrapin' up money, by weighin' out hay-porths of sustainance to the surroundin' population than I am now, and the advantitious title of Squire tacked on to my cognomination." 

 His nerves gave a sudden thrill as a shrewish voice from an adjacent room, squealed out, 
 Prev. P 8/194 next 
Back Top
Privacy Statement Terms of Service Contact