Kilcannon’s, who should he see, scratching himself agin the wall, but Solomon, an’ the baste lookin’ bitther daynunciation out of the corner of his eye. Darby turned his head, ashamed to look the misthrayted donkey in the face. An’ worse still nor that, just beyant Solomon, laning agin the same wall, was Bothered Bill Donahue, the deef tinker. That last sight dashed Darby entirely, for he knew as well as if he had been tould that the tinker was layin’ in wait to ride home with him for a night’s lodging.
It wasn’t that Darby objected on his own account to takin’ him home, for a tinker or a beggar-man, mind you, has a right, the worruld over, to claim a night’s lodgin’ an’ a bit to ate wherever he goes; an’ well, these honest people pay for it in the gossip an’ news they furnish at the fireside an’ in the good rayport of your family they’ll spread through the counthry aftherwards.
Darby liked well to have them come, but through some unknown wakeness in her char-ack-ther Bridget hated the sight of them. Worst of all, she hated Bothered Bill. She even went so far as to say that Bill was not half so bothered as he purtendid—that he could hear well enough what was a-greeable for
