The Kellys and the OKellys | Page 5

lies them thundhering Saxon ruffians choose to say about him.'
'And why not? Why wouldn't he come here and vindicate himself? When you hear Sheil by and by, you'll see then whether they think themselves likely to be prisoners! No no; they never will be, av' there's a ghost of a conscience left in one of them Protesthant raps, that they've picked so carefully out of all Dublin to make jurors of. They can't convict 'em! I heard Ford, the night before last, offer four to one that they didn't find the lot guilty; and he knows what he's about, and isn't the man to thrust a Protestant half as far as he'd see him.'
'Isn't Tom Steele a Protesthant himself, John?'
'Well, I believe he is. So's Gray, and more of 'em too; but there's a difference between them and the downright murdhering Tory set. Poor Tom doesn't throuble the Church much; but you'll be all for Protesthants now, Martin, when you've your new brother-in-law. Barry used to be one of your raal out-and-outers!'
'It's little, I'm thinking, I and Barry'll be having to do together, unless it be about the brads; and the law about them now, thank God, makes no differ for Roman and Protesthant. Anty's as good a Catholic as ever breathed, and so was her mother before her; and when she's Mrs Kelly, as I mane to make her, Master Barry may shell out the cash and go to heaven his own way for me.'
'It ain't the family then, you're fond of, Martin! And I wondher at that, considering how old Sim loved us all.'
'Niver mind Sim, John! he's dead and gone; and av' he niver did a good deed before, he did one when he didn't lave all his cash to that precious son of his, Barry Lynch.'
'You're prepared for squalls with Barry, I suppose?'
'He'll have all the squalling on his own side, I'm thinking, John. I don't mane to squall, for one. I don't see why I need, with ?400 a-year in my pocket, and a good wife to the fore.'
'The ?400 a-year's good enough, av' you touch it, certainly,' said the man of law, thinking of his own insufficient guinea a-week, 'and you must look to have some throuble yet afore you do that. But as to the wife why, the less said the better eh, Martin?
'Av' it's not asking too much, might I throuble you, sir, to set anywhere else but on my shouldher?' This was addressed to a very fat citizen, who was wheezing behind Martin, and who, to escape suffocation in the crowd, was endeavouring to raise himself on his neighbour's shoulders. 'And why the less said the better? I wish yourself may never have a worse.'
'I wish I mayn't, Martin, as far as the cash goes; and a man like me might look a long time in Dublin before he got a quarter of the money. But you must own Anty's no great beauty, and she's not over young, either.'
'Av' she's no beauty, she's not downright ugly, like many a girl that gets a good husband; and av' she's not over young, she's not over old. She's not so much older than myself, after all. It's only because her own people have always made nothing of her; that's what has made everybody else do the same.'
'Why, Martin, I know she's ten years older than Barry, and Barry's older than you!'
'One year; and Anty's not full ten years older than him. Besides, what's ten years between man and wife?'
'Not much, when it's on time right side. But it's the wrong side with you, Martin!'
'Well, John, now, by virtue of your oath, as you chaps say, wouldn't you many a woman twice her age, av' she'd half the money? Begad you would, and leap at it!'
'Perhaps I would. I'd a deal sooner have a woman eighty than forty. There'd be some chance then of having the money after the throuble was over! Anty's neither ould enough nor young enough'
'She's not forty, any way; and won't be yet for five years and more; and, as I hope for glory, John though I know you won't believe me I wouldn't marry her av' she'd all Sim Lynch's ill-gotten property, instead of only half, av' I wasn't really fond of her, and av' I didn't think I'd make her a good husband.'
'You didn't tell mother what you're afther, did you?'
'Sorrow a word! But she's so 'cute she partly guesses; and I think Meg let slip something. The girls and Anty are thick as thiefs since old Sim died; though they couldn't be at the house much since Barry came home, and Anty daren't for her life come down to the shop.'
'Did mother say anything about the schame?'
'Faix, not much; but what she did say, didn't show she'd