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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 the fire, an' boil you.' says he, 'into castor oil,' says he.
'That's purty behavour,' says she; 'it's fine usage you're givin' me, isn't it?' says she, gettin' wickeder every minute; 'but before I'm boiled,' says she, 'thry how you like THAT,' says she; an', sure enough, before he had time to put up his guard, she hot him a rale terrible clink iv the iron spoon acrass the jaw.
'Hould me, some iv ye, or I'll murdher her,' says he.
'Will you?' says she, an' with that she hot him another tin times
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