Cavanagh.
"Indeed we can't complain, thank God, as the times goes," replied
M'Mahon.
"An' the ould grandfather?--musha, but I was glad to see him look so
well on Sunday last!"
"Troth he's as stout as e'er a one of us."
"The Lord continue it to him! I suppose you hard o' this robbery that
was done at honest Jemmy Burke's?"
"I did, indeed, an' I was sorry to hear it."
"A hundre' an' fifty pounds is a terrible loss to anybody in such
times."
"A hundre' an' fifty!" exclaimed M'Mahon--"hut, tut!--no; I thought it
was only seventy or eighty. He did not lose so much, did he?"
"So I'm tould."
"It was two--um--it was two--urn--urn--it was--um--um--it was two
hundre' itself," observed Cavanagh, after he had finished a portion of
the operation, and given himself an opportunity of speaking--"it war
two hundre' itself, I'm tould, an' that's too much, by a hundre' and
ninety-nine pounds nineteen shillings an' eleven pence three fardens, to
be robbed of."
"Troth it is, Gerald," replied M'Mahon; "but any way there's nothin'
but thievin' and robbin' goin'. You didn't hear that we came in for a
visit?"
"You!" exclaimed Mrs. Cavanagh--"is it robbed? My goodness, no!"
"Why," he proceeded, "we'll be able to get over it afore we die, I hope.
On ere last night we had two of our fattest geese stolen.
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