"Indeed I don't know, Edward," she replied; "he seldom or never tells
us anything about his motions; but it vexes me to think that his father
won't make any allowance for his lightheartedness and fine spirits. Sure
now, Edward, you know yourself it's not raisonable to have a young man
like him mumpin' and mopin' about, as if there was a wake in the house?"
The only reply Edward made to this weak and foolish speech was, "Yes;
but there is reason in everything, my dear mother. I have heard," he
added, "that he is working for the Tory candidate, Vanston, and hope it
is not true."
"Why," said his mother, "what differ does it make?"
"Why," replied the other, "that Vanston votes to keep us slaves, and
Chevydale to give us our political freedom: the one is opposed to our
religion and our liberty, and the other votes for both."
"Troth, as to religion," observed the mother, "the poor boy doesn't
trouble his head much about it--bat it's not aisy for one that goes
into jinteel society to do so--an' that's what makes Hycy ait mate of a
Friday as fast as on any other day."
"I am sorry to hear that, mother," replied Edward; "but Hycy is a very
young man still, and will mend all these matters yet."
"And that's what I'm tellin' his father," she replied; "and if you'd
only see the way he looks at me, and puts a _cuir_ (* a grin--mostly
of contempt) upon him so bitther that it would a'most take the skin off
one.
Pages:
323
324
325
326
327
328
329
330
331
332
333
334
335
336
337
338
339
340
341
342
343
344
345
346
347