tle;
and says she, 'Come here,' says she, 'jewel, and ate your brekquest,
now that it's ready.' But he never minded her, but wint an workin'. So
in a minit or two more, says she, callin' out to him agin, 'Arrah,
lave off slavin' yourself, my darlin', and ate your bit o' brekquest
while it is hot.'

'Lave me alone,' says he, and he dhruv the shuttle fasther nor before.

Well, in a little time more, she goes over to him where he sot, and
says she, coaxin' him like, 'Thady, dear,' says she, 'the stirabout
will be stone cowld if you don't give over that weary work and come
and ate it at wanst.'

'I'm busy with a patthern here that is brakin' my heart,' says the
waiver; 'and antil I complate it and masther it intirely I won't
quit.'

'Oh, think o' the iligant stirabout, that 'ill be spylte intirely.'

'To the divil with the stirabout,' says he.

'God forgive you,' says she, 'for cursin' your good brekquest.'

'Ay, and you too,' says he.

'Throth, you're as cross as two sticks this blessed morning, Thady,'
says the poor wife; 'and it's a heavy handful I have of you when you
are cruked in your temper; but stay there if you like, and let your
stirabout grow cowld, and not a one o' me 'ill ax you agin;' and with
that off she wint, and the waiver, sure enough, was mighty crabbed,
and the more the wife spoke to him the worse he got, which, you know,
is only nath'ral. Well, he left the loom at last, and wint over to the
stirabout, and what would you think but whin he looked at it, it was
as black as a crow; for, you see, it was in the hoighth o' summer, and
the flies lit upon it to that degree that the stirabout was fairly
covered with them.

'Why, thin, bad luck to your impidence,' says the waiver; 'would no
place sarve you but that? and is it spyling my brekquest yiz are, you
dirty bastes?' And with that, bein' altogether cruked-tempered at the
time, he lifted his hand, and he made one great slam at the dish o'
stirabout, and killed no less than three score and tin flies at the
one blow. It was three score and tin exactly, for he counted the
carcasses one by one, and laid them out on a clane plate, for to view
them.

Well, he felt a powerful sperit risin' in him, when he seen the
slaughther he done, at one blow; and with that he got as consaited as
the very dickens, and not a sthroke more work he'd do that day, but
out he wint, and was fractious and impident to every one he met, and
was squarin' up into their faces