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This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 530 pages of information about The Kellys and the O'Kellys.

“And what will you do when you’re married, Frank?” said Blake; “for I’m beginning to think the symptoms are strong, and you’ll hardly get out of it now.”

“Do! why, I suppose I’ll do much the same as others—­have two children, and live happy ever afterwards.”

“I dare say you’re right about the two children, only you might say two dozen; but as to the living happy, that’s more problematical.  What do you mean to eat and drink?”

“Eggs—­potatoes and bacon—­buttermilk, and potheen [21].  It’s odd if I can’t get plenty of them in Mayo, if I’ve nothing better.”

     [FOOTNOTE 21:  pootheen—­illegal (untaxed) whiskey, “moonshine”]

“I suppose you will, Frank; but bacon won’t go down well after venison; and a course of claret is a bad preparative for potheen punch.  You’re not the man to live, with a family, on a small income, and what the d——­l you’ll do I don’t know.  You’ll fortify Kelly’s Court—­that’ll be the first step.”

“Is it against the Repealers?”

“Faith, no; you’ll join them, of course:  but against the sub-sheriff, and his officers—­an army much more likely to crown their enterprises with success.”

“You seem to forget, Dot, that, after all, I’m marrying a girl with quite as large a fortune as I had any right to expect.”

“The limit to your expectations was only in your own modesty; the less you had a right—­in the common parlance—­to expect, the more you wanted, and the more you ought to have looked for.  Say that Miss Wyndham’s fortune clears a thousand a year of your property, you would never be able to get along on what you’d have.  No; I’ll tell you what you’ll do.  You’ll shut up Kelly’s Court, raise the rents, take a moderate house in London; and Lord Cashel, when his party are in, will get you made a court stick of, and you’ll lead just such a life as your grandfather.  If it’s not very glorious, at any rate it’s a useful kind of life.  I hope Miss Wyndham will like it.  You’ll have to christen your children Ernest and Albert, and that sort of thing; that’s the worst of it; and you’ll never be let to sit down, and that’s a bore.  But you’ve strong legs.  It would never do for me.  I could never stand out a long tragedy in Drury Lane, with my neck in a stiff white choker, and my toes screwed into tight dress boots.  I’d sooner be a porter myself, for he can go to bed when the day’s over.”

“You’re very witty, Dot; but you know I’m the last man in Ireland, not excepting yourself, to put up with that kind of thing.  Whatever I may have to live on, I shall live in my own country, and on my own property.”

“Very well; if you won’t be a gold stick, there’s the other alternative:  fortify Kelly’s Court, and prepare for the sheriff’s officers.  Of the two, there’s certainly more fun in it; and you can go out with the harriers on a Sunday afternoon, and live like a ’ra’al O’Kelly of the ould times’;—­only the punch’ll kill you in about ten years.”

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