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THE PURCELL PAPERS.
BY THE LATE JOSEPH SHERIDAN LE FANU, AUTHOR OF
'UNCLE SILAS.'
With a Memoir by ALFRED PERCEVAL GRAVES
IN THREE VOLUMES. VOL. III.
LONDON: RICHARD BENTLEY AND SON, Publishers in Ordinary
to Her Majesty the Queen. 1880.
Library of Congress Cataloging in Publication Data
LeFanu, Joseph Sheridan, 1814-1873.
The Purcell papers.
Reprint of the 1880 ed. published by R. Bentley, London.
I. Title. PZ3.L518Pu5 [PR4879.L7] 823'.8 71-148813 ISBN
0-404-08880-5
Reprinted from an original copy in the collection of the University of
Chicago Library.
From the edition of 1880, London First AMS edition published in 1975
Manufactured in the United States of America
International Standard Book Number: Complete Set: 0-404-08880-5
Volume III: 0-404-08883-X
AMS PRESS INC. NEW YORK, N. Y. 10003
CONTENTS OF VOL. III. ---- JIM SULIVAN'S ADVENTURES IN
THE GREAT SNOW A
CHAPTER IN
THE HISTORY OF A TYRONE FAMILY AN ADVENTURE OF
HARDRESS FITZGERALD, A ROYALIST CAPTAIN 'THE QUARE
GANDER' BILLY MALOWNEY'S TASTE OF LOVE AND GLORY
THE PURCELL PAPERS. ---- JIM SULIVAN'S ADVENTURES IN
THE GREAT SNOW.
Being a Ninth Extract from the Legacy of the late Francis Purcell, P.P.
of Drumcoolagh.
Jim Sulivan was a dacent, honest boy as you'd find in the seven
parishes, an' he was a beautiful singer, an' an illegant dancer intirely,
an' a mighty plisant boy in himself; but he had the divil's bad luck, for
he married for love, an 'av coorse he niver had an asy minute afther.
Nell Gorman was the girl he fancied, an' a beautiful slip of a girl she
was, jist twinty to the minute when he married her. She was as round
an' as complate in all her shapes as a firkin, you'd think, an' her two
cheeks was as fat an' as red, it id open your heart to look at them.
But beauty is not the thing all through, an' as beautiful as she was she
had the divil's tongue, an' the divil's timper, an' the divil's behaviour all
out; an' it was impossible for him to be in the house with her for while
you'd count tin without havin' an argymint, an' as sure as she riz an
argymint with him she'd hit him a wipe iv a skillet or whatever lay next
to her hand.
Well, this wasn't at all plasin' to Jim Sulivan you may be sure, an' there
was scarce a week that his head wasn't plasthered up, or his back bint
double, or his nose swelled as big as a pittaty, with the vilence iv her
timper, an' his heart was scalded everlastin'ly with her tongue; so he
had no pace or quietness in body or soul at all at all, with the way she
was goin' an.
Well, your honour, one cowld snowin' evenin' he kim in afther his day's
work regulatin' the men in the farm, an' he sat down very quite by the
fire, for he had a scrimmidge with her in the mornin', an' all he wanted
was an air iv the fire in pace; so divil a word he said but dhrew a stool
an' sat down close to the fire. Well, as soon as the woman saw him,
'Move aff,' says she, 'an' don't be inthrudin' an the fire,' says she.
Well, he kept never mindin', an' didn't let an' to hear a word she was
sayin', so she kim over an' she had a spoon in her hand, an' she took jist
the smallest taste in life iv the boilin' wather out iv the pot, an' she
dhropped it down an his shins, an' with that he let a roar you'd think the
roof id fly aff iv the house.
'Hould your tongue, you barbarrian,' says she; 'you'll waken the child,'
says she.
'An' if I done right,' says he, for the spoonful of boilin' wather riz him
entirely, 'I'd take yourself,' says he, 'an' I'd stuff you into the pot an
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