"
Kate, however, heard him not, but still tugged and stuck to the throat
of Philip's quivering carcass, until by a united effort they at length
disentangled her iron clutches from it, upon which she struggled and
howled like a beast of prey, and attempted with a strength that seemed
more akin to the emotion of a devil than that of a woman to get at him
again and again, in order to complete her work.
"Come, Kate," said her husband, "you're a Trojan--by japers you're a
Trojan; you've settled him any way--is there life in him?" he asked, "if
there is, dash wather or something in his face, an' drag him up out o'
that--ha! ha! Well done, Kate; only for you we'd lead a fine life wid
him--ay! an' a fine life that is--a hard life we led until you did
come--there now, more power to you--by the livin' Counthryman, there's
not your aquil in Europe--come now, settle down, an' don't keep all
movin' that way as if you wor at him again--sit down now, an' here's
another glass of whiskey for you."
In the mean time, Ned and Teddy Phats succeeded in recovering Philip,
whom they dragged over and placed upon a kind of bench, where in a few
minutes he recovered sufficiently to be able to speak--but ever and anon
he shook his head, and stretched his neck, and drew his breath deeply,
putting his hands up from time to time as if he strove to set his
windpipe more at ease.
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