Part 5 (2/2)
”I was br ingin' her a layin' hen, sir, that my mother promised her at ma.s.s on Sunday last.”
”Ah, Paddy, you're a game bird, yourself, wid your layin' hens; you're as full o' mischief as an egg's full o' mate--(omnes--ha, ha, ha, ha!)--Silence, boys--what are you laughin' at?--ha, ha, ha!--Paddy, can you spell Nebachodnazure for me?”
”No, sir.”
”No, nor a better scholar, Paddy, could not do that, ma bouchal; but I'll spell it for you. Silence, boys--whist, all of yez, till I spell Nebachodnazure for Paddy Magouran. Listen; and you yourself, Paddy, are one of the letthers:
A turf and a clod spells Nebachod-- A knife and a razure, spells Nebachodnazure-- Three pair of boots and five pair of shoes-- Spells Nebachodnazure, the king of the Jews.'
Now, Paddy, that's spelling Nebachodnazure by the science of Ventilation; but you'll never go that deep, Paddy.”--
”I want to go out, if you plase, sir.”
”Is that the way you ax me, you vagabone?”
”I want to go out, sir,”--(pulling down the fore lock.)
”Yes, that's something dacenter; by the sowl of Newton, that invinted fluxions, if ever you forgot to make a bow again, I'll nog the enthrils out of you--wait till the Pa.s.s comes in.”
Then comes the spelling lesson. ”Come, boys, stand up to the spelling lesson.”
”Mickey,” says one urchin, ”show me your book, till I look at my word.
I'm fifteenth.”
”Wait till I see my own.”
”Why do you crush for?”
”That's my place.”
”No, it's not.”
”Sir, spake to---------I'll tell the masther.”
”What's the matther there?”
”Sir, he won't let me into my place.”
”I'm before you.”
”No you're not.”
”I say, I am.”
”You lie, pug-face: ha! I called you pug-face, tell now if you dare.”
”Well boys, down with your pins in the book: who's king?”
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