Herminie Templeton

“ Indeed, there was not an article of furniture out of its place, and Jerry as he knelt looked round in vain for the sign of a single drop of buttermilk on the floor.
"Where's Killboggan?" he gasped, as he struggled to his feet.
"Kill who?" laughed Katie in stitches. "I've seen no Killboggan or Killhoggan or Kill anybody else, aither. But you and that bliggard Char-les should be half way to Clonmel be this time."
"Char-les, Char-les," Jerry repeated mournfully, wagging his head, "sure Charles is gone, Katie, and we'll never see the poor hayro again."
"Won't we, then," laughed Katie. ”

“ What'll I do at all, at all?"
"Faith, I dunno, Jerry, ma bouchal. It's beyant me," replied Mrs. Clancey turning to go. "But"—and a sudden thought halted her—"to-morrow is market day at Clonmel, and if that same Char-les wor my pig, I'd have him half way there before the sun stuck a leg over the mountain, and I'd sell him widout the flutther of an eyelid. By that manes ye'd shift the raysponsibility on to himself. And if Char-les is half as wise as he purtinds to be, lave him alone but he'll take care of himself." ”

“ The brave man, however, never weakened his hold, and Killboggan soon found out that this plan was useless, too; so what does the rapscallion of an enchanter do but begin backing rapidly toward the fireplace.
"Oh, murdher in Irish, this is where the spalpeen's got me," groaned poor Jerry, twisting a frightened eye over his shoulder at the turf fire.
"Keep a firm grip on him whatever happens," encouraged the invisible Killbohgan, "ye're doin' fine."
Whether Killboggan intended to seat the poor lad on the live coals will never be known. ”

“ When this dismal work was finished, the honest fellow had not enough courage left to carry him back to the cottage, there to face the accusing eyes of his children, so he slunk over to the stile in the lane and stood with his right arm thrown listlessly about the hedge post, lost in troubled contemplation of the unconscious and confiding victim who stretched himself luxuriously in the grass at his master's feet. ”

“ Well, that same pig grew and grew, fat and silky and good-natured, till it was the pride and the pleasure of the family to currycomb him, to wash him, to feed him, and to rub his fine, broad back. And when the time came for him to go the way of all pigs, Jerry's thatched roof covered as sore a hearted family as dwelt in all Ireland. However, the piteous law which compels the strong to prey upon the weak, was in this instance considered to be inexorable ”

“ Sure, pigs have feelings as well as you or I, and you wouldn't like to be kilt yourself, Mrs. Clancey, I'm thinkin'."
The unhappy personal comparison offended Mrs. Clancey's ever sensitive dignity so with head askew and tight lips she replied, "If I wor a pig, which Heaven forbid, I hope I'd be pillosopher enough to be satisfied with me station in life. Pigs were born to be kilt; how else could they be turned into things needful! 'Tis the least they can expect."
"Thrue fer ye!" apologetically sighed Jerry. ”

“ Jerry leaned heavily on the stile and gazed with unseeing eyes at the brown shawl fast disappearing in the shadows, until he was startled by two short, indignant grunts at his side. Looking quickly round he met the reproachful eyes of the pig gazing steadfastly up at him.
"Arrah don't be blaming me, Char-les, me poor lad ! Don't look at me that way! Me heart's fair broke, so it is. Haven't I raised you since you were the size of that hand? an' a sociabler, civiler mannered baste I niver saw. Musha, I wisht you were a cow, so I do; then you wouldn't be a pig an' have to be kilt. ”

“ And you can't gainsay, Char-les, but what you've got the best of good thratement."
"It's the truth ye're spakin'," nodded the pig. "And now, to prove me gratitude, I'll show you a way to fill your pockets with goold. Whenever you need a little money, just take me to the nearest fair and sell me, for the best price you can get. Then go your ways, and never fear but I'll be back to ye safe and sound be cock-crow." In his excitement over this prospect, Jerry lost sight entirely of the sheer dishonesty of the plan. ”

“ Clancey! You're sure the letther was from Amerikay?"
"Oh, faith I am; the postmasther hilt it up, an' more than a dozen of us saw the post mark."
"My but that's quare," muttered Jerry. "I have no one in Amerikay who could be afther sending me a letther barrin' me Uncle Dan, and Dan's dead an' gone. Heaven rest him, these two years. I'm bilin' to know who the letther's from, but I can't go afther it the morrow becase" (and he sighed deeply) "we've set that day for the killin' of Char-les, the pig, there. And it's a red-handed murdherer I feel meself already, Mrs. Clancey, ma'am." ”

“ He'll be here in a minute, and then good-by forever to the raynowned Killbohgan. I can do no more. I'll vanish entirely."
"Och, what a murdherin' pity," mourned Jerry, wringing his hands. "Is there no help for you?"
"There's only one poor chanst in all the worruld," moaned Charles, "but I don't think you'd be ayquil to the task. If you could manage to stuff a handful of salt into Killboggan's mouth, that'd put an ind to his powers and his parsecutions. I'd soon grow fat agin. ”