Coming,
coming; d'ye hear 'em?"
"Oh, they'll murther us. Sure if we had any of the tripe I sent
yesterday to the gauger."
"Eh! What's that you say? I declare to God here's Andy getting up.
We must do something. _Thonom an dhiaoul_, I have it. Jillen run and
bring me the leather breeches; run woman, alive! Where's the block and
the hatchet? Go up and tell 'em you're putting down the pot."
Jillen pacified the uproar in the kitchen by loud promises, and
returned to Paddy. The use of the leather breeches passed her
comprehension; but Paddy actually took up the leather breeches, tore
away the lining with great care, chopped the leather with the hatchet
on the block, and put it into the pot as tripes. Considering the
situation in which Andy and his friends were, and the appetite of the
Irish peasantry for meat in any shape--"a bone" being their _summum
bonum_--the risk was very little. If discovered, however, Paddy's
safety was much worse than doubtful, as no people in the world have a
greater horror of any unusual food. One of the most deadly modes of
revenge they can employ is to give an enemy dog's or cat's flesh; and
there have been instances where the persons who have eaten it, on
being informed of the fact, have gone mad.
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