Part 15 (1/2)
”Not quite,” repeated Andy, emphasizing the last word in a way which made G.o.dfrey color.
”What do you mean?” he said.
”What do I mane? It was only your words I repeated.”
”Then, don't trouble yourself to repeat them--do you hear?”
”Thank you; I won't.”
”You didn't tell me whose gun that is.”
”No, I didn't.”
”Very likely you stole it,” said G.o.dfrey, provoked.
”Maybe you'll go and tell the owner.”
”How can I when you haven't told me whose it is?”
”No more I did,” said Andy with apparent innocence.
”Where are you going with it?”
”Goin' out shootin'.”
”So I supposed.”
”Did you, now? Then what made you ask?” returned Andy.
”You are an impudent fellow,” said G.o.dfrey, provoked.
”I never am impudent to gentlemen,” said Andy, pointedly.
”Do you mean to say that I am not a gentleman?” demanded the other, angrily.
”Suit yourself,” said Andy, coolly.
”You're only an Irish boy.”
”Shure, I knew that before. Why can't you tell me some news? I'm an Irish boy and I'm proud of the same. I'll never go back on ould Ireland.”
”The Irish are a low set.”
”Are they now? Maybe you never heard of Burke, the great orator.”
”What of him?”
”Shure, he was an Irishman; and isn't my name Andy Burke, and wasn't he my great-grandfather?”