[The Black Prophet: A Tale Of Irish Famine by William Carleton]@TWC D-Link book
The Black Prophet: A Tale Of Irish Famine

CHAPTER IV
13/17

At any rate, I've a crow to pluck wid the same Peggy Murray.

Oh, never you fear, you must have it; the minnit I get my hands on it, I'll secure it for you." After a few words more of idle chat they separated; he to his master's house, which was a considerable distance off; and this extraordinary creature--unconscious of the terrors and other weaknesses that render her sex at once so dependent on and so dear to man--full only of delight at the expected glee of the wake--to the house of death where it was held.
In the country parts of Ireland it is not unusual for those who come to a wake-house from a distance, to remain there until the funeral takes place: and this also is frequently the case with the nearest door neighbors.

There is generally a solemn hospitality observed on the occasion, of which the two classes I mention partake.

Sally's absence, therefore, on that night, or for the greater portion of the next day, excited neither alarm nor surprise at home.

On entering their miserable sheiling, she found her father, who had just returned, and her step-mother in high words; the cause of which, she soon learned, had originated in his account of the interview between young Dalton and Mave Sullivan, together with its unpleasant consequences to himself.
"What else could you expect," said his wife, "but what you got?
You're ever an' always too ready wid your divil's grin an' your black prophecy to thim you don't like.


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