I never could ondherstand why in the world it was Bill fell in love wid HER,above all the girls in the country.She was not within four stone weight iv being as fat as Peg Brallaghan;and as for redness in the face,she could not hould a candle to Judy Flaherty.(Poor Judy! she was my sweetheart,the darlin',an' coorted me constant,ever antil she married a boy of the Butlers;an'it's twenty years now since she was buried under the ould white-thorn in Garbally.But that's no matther!)Well,at any rate,Molly Donovan tuck his fancy,an'that's everything!She had smooth brown hair--as smooth as silk-an' a pair iv soft coaxin'eyes--an'the whitest little teeth you ever seen;an',bedad,she was every taste as much in love wid himself as he was.
Well,now,he was raly stupid wid love: there was not a bit of fun left in him.He was good for nothin'an airth bud sittin' under bushes,smokin'tobacky,and sighin' ill you'd wonder how in the world he got wind for it all.
An',bedad,he was an illigant scholar,moreover;an',so signs,it's many's the song he made about her;an'if you'd be walkin'in the evening,a mile away from Carrickadrum,begorra you'd hear him singing out like a bull,all across the country,in her praises.
Well,ye may be sure,ould Tim Donovan and the wife was not a bit too well plased to see Bill Malowney coortin'their daughter Molly;for,do ye mind,she was the only child they had,and her fortune was thirty-five pounds,two cows,and five illigant pigs,three iron pots and a skillet,an'a trifle iv poultry in hand;and no one knew how much besides,whenever the Lord id be plased to call the ould people out of the way into glory!
So,it was not likely ould Tim Donovan id be fallin'in love wid poor Bill Malowney as aisy as the girls did;for,barrin'his beauty,an'his gun,an'his dhudheen,an' his janius,the divil a taste of property iv any sort or deion he had in the wide world!
Well,as bad as that was,Billy would not give in that her father and mother had the smallest taste iv a right to intherfare,good or bad.
'An'you're welcome to rayfuse me,'says he,'whin I ax your lave,'says he;'an'
I'll ax your lave,'says he,'whenever I want to coort yourselves,'says he;'but it's your daughter I'm coortin'at the present,' says he,'an that's all I'll say,'says he;'for I'd as soon take a doase of salts as be discoursin'ye,'says he.
So it was a rale blazin'battle betune himself and the ould people;an',begorra,there was no soart iv blaguardin'that did not pass betune them;an'they put a solemn injection on Molly again seein'him or meetin'him for the future.
But it was all iv no use.You might as well be pursuadin'the birds agin flying,or sthrivin'to coax the stars out iv the sky into your hat,as be talking common sinse to them that's fairly bothered and burstin'wid love.There's nothin'like it.
The toothache an'cholic together id compose you betther for an argyment than itself.It leaves you fit for nothin'bud nansinse.
It's stronger than whisky,for one good drop iv it will make you drunk for one year,and sick,begorra,for a dozen.
It's stronger than the say,for it'll carry you round the world an'never let you sink,in sunshine or storm;an,'begorra,it's stronger than Death himself,for it is not afeard iv him,bedad,but dares him in every shape.
But lovers has quarrels sometimes,and,begorra,when they do,you'd a'most imagine they hated one another like man and wife.An'so,signs an,Billy Malowney and Molly Donovan fell out one evening at ould Tom Dundon's wake;an'whatever came betune them,she made no more about it but just draws her cloak round her,and away wid herself and the sarvant-girl home again,as if there was not a corpse,or a fiddle,or a taste of divarsion in it.
Well,Bill Malowney follied her down the boreen,to try could he deludher her back again;but,if she was bitther before,she gave it to him in airnest when she got him alone to herself,and to that degree that he wished her safe home,short and sulky enough,an'walked back again,as mad as the devil himself,to the wake,to pay a respect to poor Tom Dundon.
Well,my dear,it was aisy seen there was something wrong avid Billy Malowney,for he paid no attintion the rest of the evening to any soart of divarsion but the whisky alone;an'every glass he'd drink it's what he'd be wishing the divil had the women,an'the worst iv bad luck to all soarts iv courting,until,at last,wid the goodness iv the sperits,an'the badness iv his temper,an'the constant flusthration iv cursin',he grew all as one as you might say almost,saving your presince,bastely drunk!
Well,who should he fall in wid,in that childish condition,as he was deploying along the road almost as straight as the letter S,an'cursin'the girls,an'roarin'for more whisky,but the recruiting-sargent iv the Welsh Confusileers.
So,cute enough,the sargent begins to convarse him,an'it was not long until he had him sitting in Murphy's public-house,wid an elegant dandy iv punch before him,an'the king's money safe an'snug in the lowest wrinkle of his breeches-pocket.
So away wid him,and the dhrums and fifes playing,an'a dozen more unforthunate bliggards just listed along with him,an' he shakin'hands wid the sargent,and swearin'agin the women every minute,until,be the time he kem to himself,begorra,he was a good ten miles on the road to Dublin,an'Molly and all behind him.
It id be no good tellin'you iv the letters he wrote to her from the barracks there,nor how she was breaking her heart to go and see him just wanst before he'd go;but the father an'mother would not allow iv it be no manes.
An'so in less time than you'd be thinkin' about it,the colonel had him polished off into it rale elegant soger,wid his gun exercise,and his bagnet exercise,and his small sword,and broad sword,and pistol and dagger,an'all the rest,an'then away wid him on boord a man-a-war to furrin parts,to fight for King George agin Bonyparty,that was great in them times.
