Page:The Playboy of the Western World.djvu/33

 He was a dirty man, God forgive him, and he getting old and crusty, the way I couldn’t put up with him at all.

And you shot him dead?

I never used weapons. I’ve no license, and I’m a law-fearing man.

It was with a hilted knife maybe? I’m told, in the big world, it’s bloody knives they use.

Do you take me for a slaughter-boy?

You never hanged him, the way Jimmy Farrell hanged his dog from the license, and had it screeching and wriggling three hours at the butt of a string, and himself swearing it was a dead dog, and the peelers swearing it had life?

I did not, then. I just riz the loy and let fall