The Argosy — page 66: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

Larry's Ghost. 53 for love ov her, her words would have no effect ; an’ she didn’t scowld him, for she had the wisdom to know that in this way she would lose his love, an’ so lose her influence over him. “Tt wor three months afther their marriage, an’ Larry had gone down one evenin’ till ould Dinnis Ryan’s wake, an’ Rose sat her lone by the fire, thinkin’. As good luck would have it, Mike Terry, Rose’s only brother, dhrapped in; an’ seein’ her lone, and lookin’ sarious like, he fell till tazin’ her on bein’ onhappy; at the same time, knowin’ nightly, rogue that he wor, that she wor the envy ov ivery woman about. ‘““¢ Now, Mike,’ sez Rose, ‘lave off yer jokin’, for it’s jokin’ ye are; shure ye know I wouldn’t change lot wid a Queen,’ an’ Rose give her head a pretty little toss that made Mike say—‘ Well, by me sowl, I think a Queen would be willin’ till change lot wid you /’ for ye see for rale, natural born beauty, Rose couldn't be bate. ‘““¢ Have done wid yer blarney, an’ listen till what I’m goin’ till say,’ sez Rose. ‘ Mike,’ sezshe, ‘ I’ve got an idea in me head.’ ‘““ Have ye, now?’ sez Mike. ‘Well, don’t burden yersilf long wid it, me dear, for a woman’s head is a poor place for anything ov the kind.’ | “Ves, I have an idea,’ sez she, ‘an’ it came till me as I wor sittin’ here me lone, just afore yecamein. Yeknow, Mike, I’m the blissedest wife that iver wor born, except in the matter ov one thing ; an’ that is, Larry’s habit ov bein’ over fond ov a dhrap ov the craythure. An’ this one thing is zverything to me, Mike; for shure don’t I know there’s been many a gay-sailin’ vessel wrecked by one bit ov arock ; an’ many’s the woman, betther desarvin’ nor me, has begun her married life in smiles, an’ ended it in tears; an’ all for that ove thing. Now, Mike, listen; I’ve a plan in me mind, an’ I'll carry it out, an’ cure Larry, or die ov a broken heart in the ind. Ye see, Mike, ye wor always good at thricks an’ sich like; an’ what I want is, that ye’ll get yersilf up like a ghost, an’ meet Larry to-night afther he laves Ryan’s. Ye’re till mate him this side Craig Hill, where the road narrows off at the turn; an’ I lave it till yer own smartness to give him a fright. For mind ye, Mike, it’s a frzght I want him to have; a fright that’ll bring him till his rason, an’ do him good for the rest ov his days. For I’m convinced this is the only thratement that'll cure him. Though he’s as bould as a lion about iverything else, he’s as feard as death ov a ghost.’ “Now, if iver Mike Terry loved anybody, it was his sister; an’ he would have tuck his right hand off for her happiness; an’, moreover, bein’ greatly given till fun and deviltry, it wor a rich thrate for him to play off this trick on poor Larry. So he lost no time, but kissin’ Rose, he hurried off home, to plan how he would do. “Tt was ten o'clock whin he left, an’ Rose put fresh turf on the fire, an’ took her knittin’ to while away the time, for Larry would not be back till midnight. The little kitten was fast asleep on the hearth, CORMIE OOO SS (C(O)