universal languagè; and there's not a woman in the world, be she fish or lady, that does not understand it.
The Merrow did not seem much displeaşed at this mode of conversation; and, making an end of her whining all at once-"Man, "says she, looking up in Dick's face, "Man, will you eat me?"
"By all the red petticoats and cheek aprons between Dingle and Tralee,” cried Dick, jumping up in amazement, "I'd as soon eat myself, my jewel! Is it I eat you my pet?"
"Man," said the Merrow, “what will you do with me, if you won't eat me?"
Dick's thoughts were running on a wife: he saw at the first glimpse that she was handsome; but since she spoke, and spoke too like any real woman, he was fairly in love with her. 'Twas the neat way she called him man, that settled the matter entirely.
"Fish," says Dick, trying to speak to her after her own short fashion; "fish,” says he, “here's my word, fresh and fasting, for you this blessed morning, that I'll make you mistress Fitzgerald before all the world, and that's what I'll do."
“Never say the word twice," says she, "I'm ready and willing to be yours, mister Fitzgerald; but stop if you please, 'till I twist up my hair.”
It was sometime before she had settled it entirely to her liking; for she guessed, I suppose, that she was going among strangers, where she would be looked at. When that was done, the Merrow
