Collected Stories Read Online Free PDF Page A

me, Henry,’ says I, getting out of bed, ‘the sooner you have this out with Nellie the better for all.’
    â€œâ€˜Do you tink so?’ says he a bit stupid-like.
    â€œâ€˜How long is it since you put your foot aboard the liner in Queens-town, Henry?’
    â€œâ€˜ ’Tis twinty-five years and more,’ says he.
    â€œâ€˜ ’Tis a long time not to see your own lawful wife,’ says I.
    â€œâ€˜ ’Tis,’ says he, ‘ ’tis, a long time,’ and all at wance he began to cry, with his head in his two hands.
    â€œâ€˜I knew she was a hard woman, Larry, but blast me if I ever tought she’d do the like of dat on me! Me poor ould heart is broke! And the Mollies—did I hear you say the Mollies was gone?’
    â€œâ€˜The Mollies is gone,’ says I.
    â€œâ€˜Anyting else but dat, Larry, anyting else but dat!’
    â€œâ€˜Come on away,’ says I.
    â€œSo I brought him down the road by the hand just like a child. He never said wan word till I knocked at the door, and all at wance he got fractious again. I whispered into Nellie to open the door. When she seen the man with me she nearly went through the ground.
    â€œâ€˜Who is it?’ says she.
    â€œâ€˜An old friend of yours,’ says I.
    â€œâ€˜Is it Henry?’ says she, whispering-like.
    â€œâ€˜It is Henry,’ says I.
    â€œâ€˜It is not Henry!’ bawls out me hero. ‘Well you know your poor ould Henry is dead and buried without a soul in the world to shed a tear over his corpse.’
    â€œâ€˜Henry!’ says she.
    â€œâ€˜No, blast you!’ says he with a shriek, ‘but Henry’s ghost come to ha’ant you.’
    â€œâ€˜Come in, come in the pair of ye,’ says I. ‘Why the blazes don’t ye kiss wan another like any Christian couple?”
    â€œAfter a bit of trouble I dragged him inside.
    â€œâ€˜Ah, you hard-hearted woman!’ says he moaning, with his two paws out before him like a departed spirit. ‘Ah, you cruel, wicked woman! What did you do to your poor ould husband?’
    â€œâ€˜Help me to undress him, Nellie,’ says I. ‘Sit down there on the bed, Henry, and let me unlace your boots.’
    â€œSo I pushed him back on the bed, but, when I tried to get at his boots, he began to kick his feet up in the air, laughing like a kid.
    â€œâ€˜I’m dead, dead, dead, dead,’ says he.
    â€œâ€˜Let me get at him, Larry,’ says Nellie in her own determined way, so, begod, she lifted his leg that high he couldn’t kick without falling over, and in two minits she had his boots and stockings off. Then I got off his coat, loosened his braces and held him back in the bed while she pulled his trousers down. At that he began to come to himself a bit.
    â€œâ€˜Show it to her! Show it to her!’ says he, getting hot and making a dive for his clothes.
    â€œâ€˜Show what to her?’ says I.
    â€œâ€˜Me charge sheet. Give it to me, Larry. There you are, you jade of hell! Seven and six-pence I paid for it to clear me character.’
    â€œâ€˜Get into bed, sobersides,’ says I.
    â€œâ€˜I wo’ not go into bed!’
    â€œâ€˜And there’s an old nightshirt all ready,’ says Nellie.
    â€œâ€˜I don’t want no nightshirt. I’ll take no charity from any wan of ye. I wants me character back, me character that ye took on me.’
    â€œâ€˜Take off his shirt, Larry,’ says she.
    â€œSo I pulled the old stinking shirt up over his gray pate, and in a tick of the clock she had his nightshirt on.
    â€œâ€˜Now, Nellie,’ says I, ‘I’ll be going. There’s nothing more I can do for you.’
    â€œâ€˜Thanks, Larry, thanks,’ says she. ‘You’re the best friend we ever had. There’s nothing else you can do. He’ll be asleep in a minit, don’t I know him