Ballygullion
Cód:
491_9781443752558
CHAPTER 1 INTRODUCTORY My sporting associate and occasional client, Mr. Patrick Murphy, opened the door Belfast Office about twelve inches, inched himself through the aperture, and seating himself on the extreme edge of a chair, regarded me anxiously. I had seldom seen him so serious. The humorous twinkle in his eye was quenched momentarily for the first time in our acquaintance. I suppose ye hadnt time since mornin to look intil that, he said, nodding his head towards a pile of manuscript on my desk. Im sorry to say I hid, Pat, I answered. In fact, I read it all through. An what might ye think av it he asked cautiously. I think well print it, Pat, said I. But I want to know first if its all your own. Every word av it, Misther Doyle,. he said. Who wrote it all out for you then, Pat I said. Its not in your hand surely Ye may swear that, he answered. I wasnt that long at school. Wait an Ill tell you the whole story I was strollin along the road at me aise wan Sathurday afthernoon last October, when I heard the tootin av a horn behind me. Pat, sez I to meself, Yed betther take to the ditch till that fellow gets by for the same ginthry is no ways particular who they run down, from a hen till a human bein. So I tuk in to the side av the road, an twas well I did. Round the corner wi a whizz comes a fellow on a motor bicycle, shoots clear av me be about six inches, gives a couple av bad wobbles, an round the nixt bend in a cloud av dust, lavin a stink behind him fit to throw a thrain off the lines. Bad luck to ye, an the whole breed av ye, sez I, stampin and spittin for youre the curse av dacint counthry people that the roads was made for. A bad end to you an your ould machine anyway. Twas only an idle word av mine, but ye niver seen an ill wish come sooner to roost. I wasnt more than a couple of hundhred yards furdher on till I come on him sittin in the ditch. He got up very shaky lookin as I come near him. beg your pardon, sir, sez he, very polite, but would you min
Veja mais
