[The Black Prophet: A Tale Of Irish Famine by William Carleton]@TWC D-Link book
The Black Prophet: A Tale Of Irish Famine

CHAPTER XXVIII
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He has knocked two or three times, and sent, on each occasion, Hanlon, old Dick, young Dick, together with all the component parts of the establishment, to a certain territory, where, so far as its legitimate historians assure us, the coldness of the climate has never been known to give any particular offence.
"I know he's inside, for didn't I see him goin' in--well, may all the devils--hem--oh, good morrow, Charley--troth you'd make a good messenger for death.

I'm knocking here till I have lost the use of my arm wid downright fatigue." "Never mind, Rody, you'll recover it before you're twice married--come in." They then entered.

"Well, Rody, what's the news ?" "What the news, is it?
Why then is anything in the shape of news--of good news I mean--to be had in such a counthry as this?
Troth it's a shame for any one that has health an' limbs to remain in it.

An' now that you're answered, what's the news yourself, Charley?
I hope that the Drivership's safe at last, I thought I was to sleep at home in my comfortable berth last--" "Not now till afther the 'sizes, Rody." "The master's goin' to them?
bekaise I heard he wasn't able." "He's goin', he says, happen what may; he thinks it's his last visit to them, and I agree wid him--he'll soon have a greater 'sizes and a different judge to meet." "Ay, Charley, think of that now; an' tell me, he sleeps in Ballynafail, as usual; eh, now ?" "He does of course." "An' Jemmy Branigan goes along wid him ?" "Are you foolish, Kody?
Do you think he could live widout him ?" "Well, I b'lieve not.

Throth, whenever the ould fellow goes in the next world, there'll be no keepin' Jemmy from him.


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