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Carleton, William, 1794-1869

"The Black Baronet; or, The Chronicles Of Ballytrain The Works of William Carleton, Volume One"

"
"Faith," said the other, "I don't know whether I am or not. I have
only your word for it--and no man's willin' to give a bad character of
himself--but if you will keep the shop here for a minute or two, I'll
soon be able to tell whether it's Father M'Mahon'a hand-write or not."
So saying, he deliberately locked both tills of the counter--to wit,
those which contained the silver and coppers--then, surveying the
stranger with a look of suspicion--a look, by the way, that, after
having made his cash safe, had now something of the triumph and
confidence of security in it, he withdrew to a little backroom, that
was divided from the shop by a partition of boards and a glass door, to
which there was a red curtain.
"It is betther," said the impudent old sinner, alluding to the cash in
the tills, "to greet over it than greet afther it--just keep the shop
for a couple of minutes, and then we'll undherstand one another, may be.
There's a great many skamers going in this world."
Having entered the little room in question, he suddenly popped out his
head and asked:
"Could you weigh a stone or a half stone of praties, if they were called
for? But, never mind--you'd be apt to give down weight--I'll come out
and do it myself, if they're wanted;" saying which, he drew the red
curtain aside, in order the better, as it would seem, to keep a watchful
eye upon the other.


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