"The consate o' you!" he said.

"Thrue, ye're a fine boy, Ned, an' I know of no conversayshun more entertainin' than yer own, but I tale that if I didn't get dhrunk like a gintleman this avenin', I'd be violatin' me juty to me own conscience, as well as settin' at naught the thraditions o' the Rile Irish.

An' so, if ye'll just excuse me, I'll say good-bye till, say, to-morrow noon.".