it id only be nansinse for me thryin' an' tell ye all the foolish
things they said, and how they looked in one another's faces, an'
laughed, an' cried, an' laughed again; and how, when they came to
themselves, and she was able at last to believe it was raly Billy
himself that was there, actially holdin' her hand, and lookin' in her
eyes the same way as ever, barrin' he was browner and boulder, an' did
not, maybe, look quite as merry in himself as he used to do in former
times--an' fondher for all, an' more lovin' than ever--how he tould her
all about the wars wid the Frinchmen--an' how he was wounded, and left
for dead in the field iv battle, bein' shot through the breast, and how
he was discharged, an' got a pinsion iv a full shillin' a day--and
how he was come back to liv the rest iv his days in the sweet glen iv
Lisnamoe, an' (if only SHE'D consint) to marry herself in spite iv them
all.

Well, ye may aisily think they had plinty to talk about, afther seven
years without once seein' one another; and so signs on, the time flew by
as swift an' as pleasant as a bird on the wing, an' the sun wint down,
an' the moon shone sweet an' soft instead, an' they two never knew a
ha'porth about it, but kept talkin' an' whisperin', an' whisperin' an'
talkin'; for it's wondherful how often a tinder-hearted girl will bear
to hear a purty boy tellin' her the same story constant over an' over;
ontil at last, sure enough, they heerd the ould man himself comin' up
the boreen, singin' the 'Colleen Rue'--a thing he never done barrin'
whin he had a dhrop in; an' the misthress walkin' in front iv him, an'
two illigant Kerry cows he just bought in the fair, an' the sarvint boys
dhriving them behind.

'Oh, blessed hour!' says Molly, 'here's my father.'

'I'll spake to him this minute,' says Bill.

'Oh, not for the world,' says she; 'he's singin' the "Colleen Rue,"'
says she, 'and no one dar raison with him,' says she.

'An' where 'll I go, thin?' says he, 'for they're into the haggard an
top iv us,' says he, 'an' they'll see me iv I lep through the hedge,'
says he.

'Thry the pig-sty,' says she, 'mavourneen,' says she, 'in the name iv
God,' says she.

'Well, darlint,' says he, 'for your sake,' says he, 'I'll condescend to
them animals,' says he.

An' wid that he makes a dart to get in; bud, begorra, it was too
late--the pigs was all gone home, and the pig-sty was as full as the
Burr coach wid six inside.

'Och! blur-an'-agers,' say