MRS. FENNESSEY (_enters, stands in front of the bed and
looks at Patcha_)
And might I ask what's the matter with you?
PATCHA
Oh, I don't exactly know, at all. I have a queer
shaky feelin' runnin' down the spine and all over
me. It must be the 'fluenza or maybe appendicitis,
I'm thinkin'.
MRS. FENNESSEY
Well, if that's the case, you'll get up this very instant
and clear out of my house, for I don't want a sick
man on my hands. And you that didn't pay me a
farthin' of rent for this last six weeks.
PATCHA
Didn't I promise to pay you a week over and above
when I'd get a job? And this is the gratitute you're
showin' me now for my kindness.
MRS. FENNESSEY
What a lot of good your promises would do for any
one. I want my rent, and you can keep your promises.
PATCHA
Is it the way you'd be after turnin' a sick man from
your door a cold freezin' day like this? And the snow
thirty inches thick on the Galtee Mountains, and the
air itself nearly frozen hard.
MRS. FENNESSEY
'Tis you're the nice sick man, indeed, with muscles
on you like a statue or a prize fighter, and an appetite
like an elephant. God knows then, you should
be ashamed of yourself for nearly eating me out of
house and home, and I a poor widow dependin' on
the likes of you for a livin.
Pages:
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103