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Bog-land Studies

By J. Barlow: 3rd ed
Barlow, Jane (1857?-1917)

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TH' OULD MASTER
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WALLED OUT
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LAST TIME AT M'GURK'S
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BY THE BOG-HOLE
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PAST PRAYING FOR OR, THE SOUPER'S WIDOW
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MISS HONOR'S WEDDING
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A CURLEW'S CALL

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III

Yet 'twas just be the raison of him, Misther Denis, the throuble began.
For afore ye'd believe he shot up from a slip of a boy to a man;
Not his match in the counthry, sez we; an' th' ould master he thought that the lad
Bet creation, because, ye percaive, it was all o' the childher he had,
7

An' the misthress had died on thim both. So 'twas rael bad luck to befall
When young master tuk into his head to be off and away from us all,
An' to make of his fortin in 'Sthralia. Och, sure he'd one made fit an' fine,
But some money they owned, I've heard said, had got all swallied up in a mine,
An' that gave him the notion; an' thin there's the world young chaps fancy to see.
So th' ould master was fairly disthracted, an' couldn't abide the idee.
And he done all he could to pervint of his goin' an' coax him to stay,
For he got him the natest half-decker that ever was sailed in our bay,
An' for huntin' a mare that 'ud frighten the Saints wid the leps that she'd lep,
A grand baste—but no ha'porth o' use; Misther Denis he wouldn't be kep',
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An' the sorra a thing good or bad 'ud persuade him to bide here contint,
For he'd clane set his heart upon goin'. An' so one fine mornin' he wint.
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