_ May God's blessin' and the
blessin's of all the howly Saints an' Martyrs be on ye, and would ye spare
a little copper for a poor owld sthricken crature an' I'll pray for ye this
night an' ivvery night of me life?
_Girl in Brown._ Give her a shilling, Uncle George, and tell her to pray
for Freddy _now_.
[Uncle George _does the needful_.
_Beggar-man (miraculously recovering his speech)._ Whist! Was that a
shillin' he gave ye? That makes ten ye have now, thin. Bun like a hare an'
put ut on Acrobat at the best ye can get.
_Farmer._ Clancy leads be a length.
_Dealer._ Thin 'tis a hardy rider will dare pass the owld foxey mare now,
for she'd reach out an' chew the leg off him, she's that jealous.
_Farmer._ Woof! Pat Maguire is into the wather head-first an' dhrinkin' a
bellyful, I'll warrant--which same will be a new sensation for him.
_Dealer._ It will indeed. 'Tis a wonder he wouldn't send a lad round the
course before him givin' the ditches a dash from a pocket-flask the way
he'd be in his iliment should he take a toss--the thirsty poor fella!
_Farmer.
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