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The Poor Scholar
Traits And Stories Of The Irish Peasantry, The Works of
William Carleton, Volume Three

written by "Flanery, M. L."
...r sick bed? Allowing that he could not pay his rent, was that any reason you should do so barbarous an act as to drag a woman from her sick bed, and she at the point of death? But we know your reasons for it." "Gentlemen," said the Colonel, "pray what character do M'Evoy and Smith here bear in the country?" "We have known them both for years to be honest, conscientious men," said those whom he addressed: "such is their character, and in our opinion they well deserve it." "God bless you, gintlemen!" said M'Evoy—"God bless your honors, for your kind Words! I'm sure for my own part, I hope though but a poor man now, God help me!" "Pray, who occupies the farm at present, Mr. Carson?" "The man I mentioned to you this morning, sir. His name is Jackson." "And pray, Mr. Carson, who is his wife?" "Oh, by the by, Colonel, that's a little too close! I see the gentlemen smile; but they know I must beg to decline answering that question—-not that it matters much. We have all sown our wild oats in our time—myself as well as another—ha, ha, ha!" "The fact, under other circumstances," observed the Colonel, "could never draw an inquiry from me; but as it is connected with, or probably has occasioned, a gross, unfeeling, and an unjust act of oppression towards an honest man, I therefore alluded to it, as exhibiting the motives from which you acted. She is your illegitimate daughter, sir!" "She's one o' the baker's dozen o' them, plase your honor," observed a humorous little Presbyterian, with a sarcastic face, and sharp northern accent—"for feth, sir, for my part, A thenk he lies one on every hill head. All count, your honor, on my fingers a roun' half-dozen, all on your estate, sir, featherin' their nests as fast as they can." "Is this Jackson a good tenant, Mr. Carson?" "I gave you his character this morning, Colonel B." "Hout, Colonel!" said the Presbyterian, "deil a penny ...

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