X
And Turner, the Agint, looked back to the
house: ‘Well, yer Lordship,’ he sez,
‘That's a case for eviction; we'll scarce see a
pinny while wan o' thim stez.
Why, they haven't a goose or a hin, let alone e'er
a baste on the land,
So where we're to look for our money is more nor
I understand.
But in coorse the man's axin' for time.’ An' sez
t' other, ‘Confound him! in coorse—
'Tis their thrade to be axin' for that, if ye're axin'
a pound for your purse.
They may have their damned time, sure, an'
welcome, as long as they plase, on'y first
They'll pay up or clear out.’ An' the Agint he
laughed till ye'd think he'd ha' burst.
An' sez he, ‘Thin “clear out” 'll be the word, and
my notion's we'll find that it pays,
If we pull down thim ould sticks o' cabins, an' put
in the cattle to graze;
Faith, I'd liefer see sheep on the land than the
likes o' that breed any day,’
Sez he, pointin' his hand to the dyke, where the
childher, poor sowls, were at play.
An' the Lord sez, ‘It's on'y a pity we can't git the
lap of a wave
Just for wanst, o'er the whole o' the counthry; no
end to the throuble 'twould save,
And lave the place clane.’ An' the Agint laughed
hearty; sez he: ‘Our best start,
Since we can't git thim under the wather, is
sendin' thim over it smart.
An' these Flynns here we'd imigraph aisy; they've
several lads nearly grown;
The on'y dhrawback's the ould father, we'll just
have to let him alone,
For the son sez he's sheer past his work, an' that
niver 'ud do in the States;
It's a burthen he's been on their hands for this
great while—he 'll go on the rates.
Sure, the Union's the place for the likes of him, so
long as he bides above.’
But be this time their car had come by, an' up
wid thim, an' off they dhruv.