Page:The Playboy of the Western World.djvu/43

 I never killed my father. I'd be afeard to do that, except I was the like of yourself with blind rages tearing me within, for I'm thinking you should have had great tussling when the end was come.

We had not then. It was a hard woman was come over the hill; and if he was always a crusty kind, when he'd a hard woman setting him on not the divil himself or his four fathers could put up with him at all.

And isn't it a great wonder that one wasn't fearing you?

Up to the day I killed my father, there wasn't a person in Ireland knew the kind I was, and I there drinking, waking, eating, sleeping, a quiet, simple poor fellow with no man giving me heed.

It was the girls were giving you heed, maybe,