"Why so--what did she say?"

"Oh, Mr. Hickman, sir, the head agent, your honor; that's the go.
Throth, the same Mr. Hickman is--but, God forbid, sir, I'd spake a word
against the absent; but any way, he's a good round thrifle, one way or
the other, out of your pocket, from Jinny-warry to December."

"Darby, my good man, and most impertinent scoundrel, if you wish
to retain your present situation, never open your lips against that
excellent gentleman, Mr. Hickman. Mark my words--out you go, if I ever
discover that you mention him with disrespect."

"Well, I won't then; and God forgive me for spakin' the truth--when it's
not right."

"Did you see the Mulhollands?"

"Mr. Hickman again, sir, an' bad luck to---- Beg pardon, sir, I forgot.
Throth, sir, when I mentioned the duty work an' the new aveny, they
whistled at you."

"Whistled at me!"

"Yes, sir; an' said that Mr. Hickman tould them to give you neither duty
fowl nor duty work, but to do their own business, and let you do yours.
Ay, and 'twas the same from all the rest."

"Well," said Val, going to the window and looking abroad for a minute
or two,--"well--so much for Ballymackscud; now for its next neighbor,
Ballymackfud."