Page:Glen Aldyn Plays.djvu/15

 Mrs. Gale: I hard some sort of hullabalooin’, but I was too freckened to listen. Were they speakin’ bad to us, Hommy?

Hommy: Aw scandalous. English wouldn’ do reachin’ for them, but heavin’ the Gaelic at us as hard as they could.

Mrs. Gale: Wheer’s the chile, Hommy?

Hommy: The chile you’re callin’ him. He’s a thousan’ years is that falla is he’s a day. Wasn’t he leadin’ the whole gang ridin’ his besom as if it was a pony, an’ the whole of them banging poor Hommy most unmarciful. You’ll do all right, but it’s me they’ll be after! ’Deed I’m not feelin’ so well this minute.

Mrs. Gale: Wheer’s the chile, Hommy Beg.? [sic] Come urrow that an’ tell me wheer’s the chile!

Hommy: Amn’t I tellin’ you! Ridin’ his besom at the height of this glory and screetchin’ worse nor any of them.

Mrs. Gale: I’ll have the law on you, Hommy, if you don’t fetch the chile back middlin’ quick.

Hommy: Chut, chut, woman; they’re over the Deemster’s chimleys by this time, an’ judge nor jury won’t fetch them back.

Mrs. Gale: I’ll have the law on you, Hommy, an’ not wait for no judge an’ jury. Go on now, an’ don’t stand glommerin’ theer, but fetch him back this minute.

Hommy: Houl on, woman! Houl on! They’re not done with us yet. I hear somehtin’ breathin’ at the key-hole.

Hommy [in a low voice]: Go an’ sit down again now, an’ turn your back; for if they’re thinkin’ you’re watchin’, they’ll spoil all an’ change him into a passel of cabbage-bons as like as not.