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THE SEVEN SHANTIES.
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cabin or hut about here where I could rest for an hour or two, and change my clothes? I see that the wheel is off the carriage, so I cannot proceed to the tavern."

"Yes, sure," said Larry, "plenty of them, barring Jemmy Brady's and mine. Jemmy has seven childer and I have five,—too much noise for your honour, I'm thinking, and the mud is almost as thick on the floor of my shanty as it is here, your honour—but if you'll step a bit this way, I'll take you to Sally M'Curdy's."

The gentleman asked if this Sally M'Curdy had any children. Larry said that she had not—that she was a lone woman. "She's left with one grand-daughter," said he, "Norah—you'll may be have heard of little Norie, yer honour, for she is very smart at her latters, and can read and write too, and she's very quiet and very mindful of her grandmother."

Both Jemmy and Larry had the instinctive feeling, that this widow's shanty bade fairer for comfort than any other in the range, and they were hastening forward to show the way and to prepare her for the guest, when he discovered that he had sprained his ancle, and could not move.

"What now is to be done," said he, impatiently, "I cannot lift my foot from the ground, and the pain is becoming intolerable."

"Och, hub-bub-boo," said Larry, "what is better to be done than to carry your honour on our hands, crossed this fashion. I've carried a bigger man nor you in this way, in play even." So he called lazy Jemmy to him, who scratched his head and sighed, to think of the heavy weight they were to carry. He crossed hands with Larry, the stranger seated himself, and in this awkward, singular way, with much vexation of spirit, he was taken to Sally M'Curdy's shanty.

"Here is a good ould gentleman what's lame,"