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25 Cards in this Set
- Front
- Back
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FOXLOVE: Immediately. Here Tim, Tim.
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TIM: Coming, sir, coming.
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FOXLOVE: He is exactly suited for our purpose, a genuine Irishman, full of fun, humour, and impudence. Here, Tim, Tim, I say.
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TIM: Aisy, sir, aisy, and I'll be wid you in the twinkling of a cat's tail.
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FOXLOVE: Confound the fellow. Tim, Tim.
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TIM: Here I am, your honour.
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FOXLOVE: At last, sir.
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TIM: Politeness bates duty, sir. Sarve the ladies before all the world.
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JULIA: Nay, dear Foxlove, we ourselves know how hard it is to part.
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TIM: Wisha long life to you; may be you're not a jewel of the first salt water, and it's yourself I'd like for a master, and no mistake.
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FOXLOVE: Now, Tim, we want your assistance.
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TIM: Sure it's yours before you ax it.
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FOXLOVE: I am aware you are a clever intelligent fellow, Tim.
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TIM: Be my faith, the thruest sentiment you ever utthered.
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FOXLOVE: You will then consent to what I shall name to you?
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TIM: Faith, that will I, before you name it, at all, at all.
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JULIA: Farewell, dear Foxlove. Heaven grant you success. And, Tim, remember the happiness of my future life depends on you.
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TIM: You happiness--make yourself aisy, my darlin--depend on me, I'd go through fire and wather for you. Tim Rafferty, Tim Rafferty, your soul, now be after showing the univarse what an edification you've had:--whatever your scheme is I'm wid you, and, by the piper that played before Moses, if I don't teach them what an Irishman can do, may I never set eyes on Ould Ireland again, or obtain my own dear little Norah for life.
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MR. BULLFINCH: I presume I have the pleasure of seeing Mr. McCarthy?
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TIM: And its right you are for once in your life, as the man said when St. Paul's clock struck thirteen. I presume you're ould Bullfinch?
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MR. BULLFINCH: At your service; very happy to see you, sir, by the blood of the Bullfinches, you are right welcome.
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TIM: Tip us your fist, my tulip, and its myself that's glad to see you, old gintleman, and may live to know each other till we die and ever so long afterwards.
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MR. BULLFINCH: My dear sir, really your shake is so very cordial--by the blood of the Bullfinches my hand is almost off--but allow me to ask, how is you worthy father?
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TIM: By my soul he's in mighty good health, in as fine a state of preservation as any ould gintleman can expect to be. He's been dead these twenty years.
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MR. BULLFINCH: You bring me letters from him, I suppose.
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TIM: I'd be troubled to do that. And is it letters, sir; by the powers, when I set out you wouldn't have known me from Dennis O'Dogherty, the postman; but you see, sir, I had an idea.
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MR. BULLFINCH: A good one, I've no doubt.
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TIM: And its right you are then; for when I looked at the bundle of letters, what's the use, says I to myself, of carrying you across the sea; devil a word said they; so I took the liberty of opening the dirty blackguards; so its by word of mouth you'll be getting all the news of my respectable ould father. And, by the powers of Moll Kelly, my idea beats the penny postage, both in cheapness and convenience.
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MR. BULLFINCH: Rather an off hand way, I must say. Well, letters, or no letters, you are welcome.
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TIM: And ain't I after knowing I am. So I'll be making myself as much at home as Paddy that took all his meals and slept in the drawing-room. Here, John, you rascal--be after getting my room ready; learn the way of the house; take pattern by me, make yourself aisy and comfortable. Kiss the cook; unbuzzum yourself to the housemaid; and shew the how we do it in Ould Ireland--you devil.
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MR. BULLFINCH: A quiet, unassuming man:--what different eyes father's see with.
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TIM: Now, ould gintleman, where's this lovely intended of mine. Och! I'm in a biling state, as the man said when he fell into the copper; I'm in a favor of love.
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FOXLOVE: Capital, Tim, Capital! Do but continue, and I have no doubt he will soon have had enough of his Irish engagement.
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TIM: Never fear, Captain, never fear; lave me alone for sarving him out. I'll be giving him a touch of the schoolmaster of Ballywhop'em, who flogged his scholars before breakfast to give them an appetite for dinner.
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FOXLOVE: Do your best; if you succeed you know your reward.
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TIM: Twenty pounds, and Norah for life. If woman money won't make a man do his best, by my faith, I should say he's good for nothing at all, at all.
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FOXLOVE: I don't think he'll find us out.
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TIM: Silence, agra, here they are.
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MR. BULLFINCH: Allow me, sir, to introduce my daughter to you. Julia, Mr. McCarthy, Mr. McCarthy, Miss Bullfinch.
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TIM: Now, it's myself that's mighty proud and happy to see you, my darlin; by the powers, you're a rose, with the colour of the tulip.
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JULIA: Really, Mr. McCarthy.
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TIM: I know what you'd be after saying, my darlin; but I'll be stopping it; and there's only one way of stopping a woman's mouth; so, by your leave, I'll be stealing a kiss.
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FOXLOVE: Be quiet. How dare you, sir?
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TIM: John, be aisy; what's come over you. Won't I salute my wife that is to be, for the honour of Ould Ireland?
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FOXLOVE: At your peril, sir.
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TIM: I must do it, it's nathural. Arrah, my darling, it's beauty you are, and no mistake. By this and by that, my heart's like a red hot pratie, with the skin on; and it's yourself I'll live wid till I die, and then never lave you.
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FOXLOVE: Confound the fellow. He shall answer for this liberty.
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TIM: By my soul, it's as reviving as the ould gintleman's elixir, that made everybody young again; therefore, as the doctors say, the dose to be repeated immadiately.
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FOXLOVE: I'll stand this no longer. I'll have no more of this, sir.
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TIM: What do you mean, you dirty spalpeen; do you forget who I am? Leave the room, sir.
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