File:All on the Irish shore - Irish sketches (1910) (14779006312).jpg

Identifier: allonirishshorei00some (find matches)
Title: All on the Irish shore : Irish sketches
Year: 1910 (1910s)
Authors: Somerville, E. . (Edith none), 1858-1949 Ross, Martin, 1862-1915
Subjects:
Publisher: London New York, Bombay (etc.) : Longmans, Green, and co.
Contributing Library: University of California Libraries
Digitizing Sponsor: MSN

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gly littlecock-nosed mother ! Faith ! says I to her, Iwouldnt care if the divil himself axed it, if he giveme a half-crown and nothing to do but to be sittindown! The tale may or may not have been intended tohave a personal application, but Croppys fat scarletface and yellow moustache, bristling beneath a nosewhich he must have inherited from his mother,did not lend themselves to a landscape background,and I fell to fugitive pencil sketches of the old whitecar-horse as he grazed round us. It was thus thatI first came to notice a fact whose bearing upon ourfortunes I was far from suspecting. The old horsesharness was of dingy brown leather, with dingierbrass mountings; it had been frequently mended,in varying shades of brown, and, in remarkablecontrast to the rest of the outfit, the breeching wasof solid and well-polished black leather, with silverbuckles. It was not so much the discrepancy ofthe breeching as its respectability that jarred uponme; finally I commented upon it to Croppy.
Text Appearing After Image:
CROPPY. The Danes Breechin\ 241 His cap was tilted over the maternal nose, heglanced at me sideways from under its peak. Sure the other breechin was broke, and if thatowld shkin was to go the linth of himself without abreechin on him hed break all before him ! Therewas some fellas took him to a funeral one timewithout a breechin on him, an when he seen thehearse what did he do but to rise up in the sky. Wherein lay the moral support of a breechingin such a contingency it is hard to say. I acceptedthe fact without comment, and expressed a regretthat we had not been indulged with the entire setof black harness. Croppy measured me with his eye, grinnedbashfully, and said :— Sure its the Danes breechin we have, Miss !I daresay hed hardly get home at all if we tookany more from him ! The Deans breeching! For an instant a wildconfusion of ideas deprived me of the power ofspeech. I could only hope that Croppy had lefthim his gaiters ! Then I pulled myself together. Croppy, I said in conste

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