down to the bottom o' your pockets?
Do, Pether, thry it, avick, an' you'll see it 'ill prosper wid us, plase
God?'

"Faix I'm ladin' an asier life, Ellish."

"But are you ladin' a dacenter or a more becominer life?"

"Why, I think, widout doubt, that it's more becominer to walk about like
a gintleman, nor to be workin' like a slave."

"Gintleman! Musha, is it to the fair you're bringin' yourself? Why, you
great big bosthoon, isn't it both a sin an' a shame to see you sailin'
about among the neighbors, like a sthray turkey, widout a hand's turn to
do? But, any way, take my advice, avillish,--will you, aroon?--an' faix
you'll see how rich we'll get, wid a blessin'?"

"Ellish, you're a deludher!"

"Well, an' what suppose? To be sure I am. Usen't you be followin' me
like a calf afther the finger?--ha, ha, ha!--Will you do my biddin',
Pether darlin'?"

Peter gave her a shrewd, significant wink, in contradiction to what he
considered the degrading comparison she had just made.

"Ellish, you're beside the mark, you beauty; always put the saddle on
the right horse, woman alive! Didn't you often an' I often swear to me,
upon two green ribbons, acrass one another, that you liked a red head
best, an' that the redder it was you liked it the betther?"

"An' it was thruth, too; an' sure, by the same a token, whore could
I get one half so red as your own? Faix, I knew what I was about! I
wouldn't give you yet for e'er a young man in the parish, if I was a
widow to-morrow. Will you take the land?"

"So thin, afther all, if the head hadn't been an me, I wouldn't be a
favorite wid you?--ha, ha, ha!"

"Get out wid you, and spake sinse. Throth, if you don't say aither ay or
no, I'll give myself no more bother about it, There we are now wid some
guineas together, an'--Faix, Pettier, you're vexin' me!"

"Do you want an answer?"

"Why, if it's plasin' to your honor, I'd have no objection."

"Well, will you have my new big coat made agin Shraft?" (* Shrovetide)

"Ay, will I, in case you do what I say; but if you don't the sarra
stitch of it 'll go to your back this twelvemonth, maybe, if you vex me.
Now!"

"Well, I'll tell you what: my mind's made up--I will take the land; an'
I'll show the neighbors what Pether Connell can do yit."

"Augh! augh! mavoumeen, that you wor! Throth I'll fry a bit o' the bacon
for our dinner to-day, on the head o' that, although I didn't intind to
touch it till Sunday. Ay, faix, an' a pair o'