the roads at all at all; an' faix, instead iv
gettin' betther, next mornin' it was only tin
times worse; so Jim had jist to take it asy,
an' stay wid his uncle antil such times as the
snow id melt.

Well, your honour, the evenin' Jim
Soolivan wint away, whin the dark was closin'
in, Nell Gorman, his wife, beginned to get
mighty anasy in herself whin she didn't see
him comin' back at all; an' she was gettin'
more an' more frightful in herself every
minute till the dark kem an, an' divil a
taste iv her husband was coming at all at
all.

'Oh!' says she, 'there's no use in pur-
tendin', I know he's kilt himself; he has
committed infantycide an himself,' says she,
'like a dissipated bliggard as he always
was,' says she, 'God rest his soul. Oh,
thin, isn't it me an' not you, Jim Soolivan,
that's the unforthunate woman,' says she,
'for ain't I cryin' here, an' isn't he in
heaven, the bliggard,' says she. 'Oh, voh,
voh, it's not at home comfortable with your
wife an' family that you are, Jim Soolivan,'
says she, 'but in the other world, you
aumathaun, in glory wid the saints I hope,' says
she. 'It's I that's the unforthunate famale,'