'Why so?'

'What was the matter with her shoes?'

'Nothing was the same. They was the shoes that the little pigs went to
slaap in, afore they got so big that they couldn't git in them, and
then it was her brother that used one of them same for a trunk when he
emigrated to Amenity. Arrah, now, but wasn't me own Bridget a jewel?'

'Jehosephat! I should think she was!' exclaimed Hopkins, who had
listened in amazement to this enumeration of the beauties of the
gentle Irish lass, who had won the affections of Mickey McSquizzle.
'No doubt she had a sweet disposition.'

'Indeed she had, had she; it was that of an angel, was the same. It
was niver that I staid there a night coorting the fame that she didn't
smash her shillaleh to smithereens over me head. Do yees obsarve
that?' asked Mickey, removing his hat, and displaying a scar that
extended half way across his head.

'I don't see how any one can help seeing that.'

'Well, that was the parting salute of Bridget, as I started for
Ameriky. Arrah, now, but she did the same in style.'

'That was her parting memento, was it?'

'Yes; I gave her the black eye, and she did the same fur me, and I
niver takes off me hat to scratch me head that I don't think of the
swate gal that I left at home.'