"
This was a shot between wind and water to Paddy. His self-possession
was nearly altogether lost, and he could do no more than turn it off
by a faint laugh. But it jarred most unpleasantly on Andy's nerves.
After looking at Paddy for some time with a very ominous look, he
said, "_Yirroo Pandhrig_ of the tricks, if I thought you were going on
with any work here, my soul and my guts to the devil if I would not
cut you into garters. By the vestment I'd make a _furhurmeen_ of you."
"Is it I, Andy? That the hands may fall off me!"
But Tim Cohill made a most seasonable diversion. "Andy, when you die,
you'll be the death of one fool, any how. What do you know that wasn't
ever in Cork itself about tripes. I never ate such mate in my life;
and 'twould be good for every poor man in the County of Kerry if he
had a tub of it."
Tim's tone of authority, and the character he had got for learning,
silenced every doubt, and all laid siege to the tripes again. But
after some time, Andy was observed gazing with the most astonished
curiosity into the plate before him.
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