"When the ould man is laid up we're all happy to be a bit uncomfortable.

Not that we are, neither.

You see, sor, me and Nora and Rosy sleep in the other bed; and Dinnie has a bit of a shakedown in the parlor; and Honora is in the kitchen; and--" "There! there!" Captain Elisha interrupted hastily, "don't tell me any more.

I'd rather _guess_ that the baby bunks in the cookstove oven than know it for sartin.

How did the grapes I sent you go ?" turning to the sick man.
"Aw, sor! they were foine.