Part 20 (1/2)
At this moment a loud cry, followed by a stream of oaths in a shrill childish voice, pierced through the singing.
”Phat's that in all the worrld?” exclaimed Mrs. Carroll. ”Hivin preserve us, it's little Patsy. Tim, ye'll 'av to be spakin' to that child for the swearin'. Listen to the oaths av 'im. The Lord forgive 'im!”
Tim strode to the door, followed by his wife.
”Phat the blank, blank is this yellin' about? Phat d'ye mane swearin'
loike that, Patsy? Oi'll knock yer blank little head aff if Oi catch ye swearin' agin.”
”I don't care,” stormed little Patsy, quite unafraid of his father when the other children fled. ”It's that blank, blank Batcheese an' Tim there. They keep teasin' me an' Mayan all the time.”
”Let me catch yez, ye little divils!” shouted Carroll after the children, who had got off to a safe distance. ”Go on, Marion, an' sing phat ye loike. It's loike a burrd ye are, an' Oi loikes t' hear ye. An'
Patsy, too, eh?”
He took the little cripple up in his arms very gently and held him for some minutes.
”You're a big man, dad, aint ye?” said Patsy, putting his puny arm round his father's hairy neck. ”An' ye can lick the hull town, can't ye?”
”Who wuz tellin' ye that, Patsy?” asked his father, with a smile.
”I heard ye meself last week when the big row was on.”
”Ye did, be dad! Thin Oi'm thinkin' ye do be hearin' too much.”
”But ye can, dad, can't ye?” persisted the boy.
”Well, Oi'll stick to phat Oi said, anyway, Patsy boy,” replied his father.
”An' I'll be a big man like you, dad, some day, an' lick the hull town, won't I?” asked Patsy eagerly.
His father shuddered and held him close to his breast.
”I will, dad, won't I?” persisted the lad, the little face turned anxiously toward his father.
”Whisht now, laddie. Sure an' ye'll be the clivir man some day,” said the big man huskily, while his wife turned her face toward the door.
”But they said I'd niver lick anybody,” persisted Patsy. ”An' that's a blank lie, isn't it, dad?”
The man's face grew black with wrath. He poured out fierce oaths.
”Let me catch thim. Oi'll break their backs, the blank, blank little cowards! Niver ye heed thim. Ye'll be a betther man thin any av thim, Patsy avick, an' that ye will. An' they'll all be standin' bare-headed afore ye some day. But Patsy, darlin', Oi want ye to give up the swearin' and listen to Marion yonder, who'll be afther tellin' ye good things an' cliver things.”
”But, dad,” persisted the little boy, ”won't I be--”
”Hush now, Patsy,” said his father hurriedly. ”Don't ye want to go on the pony with Marion? Come on now, an' Oi'll put ye up.”
”Oh, goody, goody!” shouted little Patsy, his pale, beautiful face aglow with delight.
”Poor little manny!” groaned Carroll to his wife, looking after the pair as they rode off up the trail. ”It's not many ye'll be after lickin', except with yer tongue.”
”But, begorra,” said his wife, ”that's the lickin' that hurts, afther all. An' it's harrd tellin' what'll be comin' till the lad.”
Her husband turned without more words and went into the house. Meantime Marion and Patsy were enjoying their canter.