[The Absentee by Maria Edgeworth]@TWC D-Link book
The Absentee

CHAPTER X
9/13

Nor this would not be, neither, if the lord was in it to give 'em EMPLOY.

That man, now, was a good and a willing SLAVE in his day: I mind him working with myself in the shrubberies at Clonbrony Castle, when I was a boy--but I'll not be detaining your honour, now the road's better.' The postillion drove on at a good rate for some time, till he came to a piece of the road freshly covered with broken stones, where he was obliged again to go slowly.
They overtook a string of cars, on which were piled up high, beds, tables, chairs, trunks, boxes, bandboxes.
'How are you, Finnucan?
you've fine loading there--from Dublin, are you ?' 'From Bray.' 'And what news ?' 'GREAT news and bad, for old Nick, or some belonging to him, thanks be to Heaven! for myself hates him.' 'What's happened him ?' 'His sister's husband that's failed, the great grocer that was, the man that had the wife that OW'D [Owned] the fine house near Bray, that they got that time the Parliament FLITTED, and that I seen in her carriage flaming--well, it's all out; they're all DONE UP.
'Tut! is that all?
then they'll thrive, and set up again grander than ever, I'll engage; have not they old Nick for an attorney at their back?
a good warrant!' 'Oh, trust him for that! he won't go security nor pay a farthing for his SHISTER, nor wouldn't was she his father; I heard him telling her so, which I could not have done in his place at that time, and she crying as if her heart would break, and I standing by in the parlour.' 'The NEGER! [NEGER, quasi negro; meo periculo, NIGGARD] And did he speak that way, and you by ?' 'Ay did he; and said, "Mrs.Raffarty," says he, "it's all your own fault; you're an extravagant fool, and ever was, and I wash my hands of you;" that was the word he spoke; and she answered, and said, "And mayn't I send the beds and blankets," said she, "and what I can, by the cars, out of the way of the creditors, to Clonbrony Castle; and won't you let me hide there from the shame, till the bustle's over ?"--"You may do that," says he, "for what I care; but remember," says he, "that I've the first claim to them goods;" and that's all he would grant.

So they are coming down all o' Monday--them are her bandboxes and all to settle it; and faith it was a pity of her! to hear her sobbing, and to see her own brother speak and look so hard! and she a lady.' 'Sure she's not a lady born, no more than himself,' said Larry; 'but that's no excuse for him.

His heart's as hard as that stone,' said Larry; 'and my own people knew that long ago, and now his own know it; and what right have we to complain, since he's as bad to his own flesh and blood as to us ?' With this consolation, and with a 'God speed you,' given to the carman, Larry was driving off; but the carman called to him, and pointed to a house, at the corner of which, on a high pole, was swinging an iron sign of three horse-shoes, set in a crooked frame, and at the window hung an empty bottle, proclaiming whisky within.
'Well, I don't care if I do,' said Larry; 'for I've no other comfort left me in life now.

I beg your honour's pardon, sir, for a minute,' added he, throwing the reins into the carriage to Lord Colambre, as he leaped down.


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