This made Tom feel mighty bad, and so he hid behind the wall and waylaid the chap one night.

He would have killed the chap, his timper was so ruffled, if the man hadn't nearly killed him afore he had the chance.

He laid all night in the gutter, and was just able to crawl home next day, while the fellow went a-courting the next night, as if nothing had happened.
"Tom begun to git melancholy, and his mouth didn't appear quite as broad as usual.

Molly Mulligan thought he had taken slow poison and it was gradually working through his system; but he could ate his pick of praties the same as iver.

But Tom felt mighty bad; that fact can't be denied, and he went frequently to consult with a praist that lived near this ind of Limerick, and who was knowed to cut up a trick or two during his lifetime.