Bog-land Studies | ||
II
But the years wint till Nelly'd more wit than to dhrown of herself in a hole,An' meself was a size to git work in the fields; yit, fair weather or foul,
Whin a holiday come we'd be out rovin' round on the bog, she an' me,
For we always kep' frinds; and it's lonesome was Nell, since the mother, ye see,
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And her brothers had gone to the States, and her father was fond o' potheen,
And 'ud bide dhrinkin' dhrops down at Byrne's till he hadn't a thought in his head;
So that, barrin' ould Granny an' me, all her company'd quit or was dead.
Bog-land Studies | ||