"What horribly atrocious and propinquitous oration is that goin' on out there, eh!"
Barney trembled to the heels of his brogues. "Talk to him, Peg," said he, in an agitated whisper, "while I make meself scarce; don't be afeared," he added, as he stole quietly off. "A woman's voice softens him down like a sun-ray on a snowball."
"Hallo there," shouted the Squire. "Am I obligated to keep continuitously requestin' an elucidation of that rumbunctiousness outside; who's there?"
"If ye plaze sir, it's only me," replied Peggy, "wid ye honor's honorable 'tops' that wanted heel-piecin'."
"Oh! Ah!" wheezed Bulworthy. "Wait, my good woman; I'll finish dressin' with all convaynient circumlocution, and come to you."
"Good woman, indeed," thought Peggy, with a toss of her head and a chirp. "Sure an' there's oil on his tongue sense he's turned Squire," and then, with something akin to envy, she began to scan the various articles of home-ornament scattered about the, to her, magnificent parlor, soliloquizing at the same time. "Look at the chairs, stuffed seats, as I'm a sinner, wid hair, too, I'll be bound. Mahogany tables, if you plaze, all covered over wid useless curiosities an' books that nobody sees the inside ov; did anybody ever see the likes; what's this?" as her eye caught sight of a handsome cologne-bottle. "Madame must have her scints an her sweet wathers, to wash away the smell of the shop, may-be; I remimber the time when they kep' a little bit of a huxtherin' place, and all the parfume they could musther proceeded from the soap and candles, and, may-be, a red herrin' or two to give the rest a flavior."
At this moment the Squire lumbered into the room in all the majesty of a brilliant calico dressing-gown; seating himself grandly in a large arm-chair, and patronizingly waving his hand towards Peggy, in a bland and condescending tone of voice, he moderated his impatience down to the true keep-your-distance point.
"Well, ma'm," said he, "so you've brought the tops at last, after me waitin' for them a tremenjus course of time; tell that waxy conglomeration of cobblin' connubiality, Mr. Duff, your husband, that, in consequence of his haynious neglect, I have been obligated to annihilate my usual run wid the Ballinasquash hounds. What's the remuneration?"