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Phil Purcel, The Pig-Driver; The Geography Of An Irish Oath; The Lianhan Shee - Traits And Stories Of The Irish Peasantry, The Works of - William Carleton, Volume Three by William Carleton
page 19 of 226 (08%)
"Hodge," replied his master, "I'se be bit--I'se heard feather talk about
un. That breed's true Hirish: but I'se try and sell 'em to Squoire Jolly
to hunt wi' as beagles, for he wants a pack. They do say all the swoine
that the deevils were put into ha' been drawn; but for my peart, I'se
sure that some on un must ha' escaped to Hireland."

Phil during the commotion excited by his knavery in Yorkshire, was
traversing the country, in order to dispose of his remaining pig; and
the manner in which he effected his first sale of it was as follows:

A gentleman was one evening standing with some laborers by the wayside
when a tattered Irishman, equipped in a pair of white dusty brogues,
stockings without feet, old patched breeches, a bag slung across his
shoulder, his coarse shirt lying open about a neck tanned by the sun
into a reddish yellow, a hat nearly the color of the shoes, and a hay
rope tied for comfort about his waist; in one hand he also held a straw
rope, that depended from the hind leg of a pig which he drove before
him; in the other was a cudgel, by the assistance of which he contrived
to limp on after it, his two shoulder-blades rising and falling
alternately with a shrugging motion that indicated great fatigue.

When he came opposite where the gentleman stood he checked the pig,
which instinctively commenced feeding upon the grass by the edge of the
road.

"Och," said he, wiping his brow with the cuff of his coat, "_mavrone
orth a muck_,* but I'm kilt wit you. Musha, Gad bless yer haner, an'
maybe ye'd buy a slip of a pig fwhrom me, that has my heart bruck, so
she has, if ever any body's heart was bruck wit the likes of her; an'
sure so there was, no doubt, or I wouldn't be as I am wid her. I'll give
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