ABSTRACT
BRIDGET.— You seem well pleased to be handling the money, Peter. PETER.— Indeed, I wish I'd had the luck to get a hundred pounds, or
you the day I married you but a flock of hens and you feeding them, and a few lambs and you driving them to the market at Ballina. (She is vexed, and bangs a jug on the dresser.) I f I brought no fortune I worked it out in my bones, laying down the baby-Michael, that is standing there now, on a stook of straw, while I dug the potatoes, and never asking big dresses or anything, but to be working.
