MRS. PATRICK MOLLOY. 159 



To change the conversation, I inquired, "Are you 

 married ? " 



"Married is it?" 



"Yes." 



" Well, thin, I am. Mrs. Molloy is what they calls 

 a fine female ; if size makes fineness, thin she is. Be- 

 gorra ! I wish I had her in Dublin to show at a pinny 

 ahead!" 



" Is she as big as the mistress down below?" 



" As big as that ould omadawn ! May I never tell 

 a lie, she'd make two of her ! " 



" You should be very happy." 



" Maybe I am, maybe I'm not ; but if I had to 

 begin agin I'd sooner have the little finger of Nancy 

 Murphy than all the Dutch froics in Africa. It's not 

 joking I am sorra a word of joke I'm saying." 



On Pat led me the matter of two miles, walking at 

 such a pace as to keep the pony in a trot. In front 

 of a large farmhouse he stopped, telling me to remain 

 where I ,was and he would go in and make inquiries. 

 He did so, and soon returned with the information that 

 the ford was impassable, and that the wagons must go 

 to the ferry. 



Just then the wagons came up, and, right or 

 wrong, Pat must stand me a drink, and "the other 

 jintlemen," meaning the drivers. So he stood it, and 

 they stood it, till time was up, and the wagons must 

 go forward, for several miles were yet to be passed 

 before the outspanning-place was reached. The last 

 saw of Pat was going towards his home his step was 

 light and springy; and the last I heard of him was 

 something or other always terminating with 

 "And my name is Pat Molloy !" 



