You shall know what I mean by that hereafter."
While this was going on up stairs Bowles, his eyes protruding, and in a
state of great alarm, entered the kitchen, where Bridget, the cook, and
Kitty, the chambermaid were at work, and stammered out: "Der don't be no
weddin' in dis house to-day--peers to me--no how. Quid mortibus,
portendibus--my missus am most dead."
"To the pots wid yeer latin, ye nager," said Bridget, seizing the tongs
and holding them threatingly over his head. "To the pots wid yeer latin,
ye nager. Spake so a dacent woman can understand what ye mane." To
appease Bridget's wrath and save his head, Bowles condescended to use
plain English in describing what had happened up stairs.
"Much good may the faint do the big, auld woman," said Bridget, with an
air of indifference. "The divel takes a mighty good care of his own."
"Quid--mortibus--portendibus," repeated Bowles, as Bridget ran to the
door with the tongs upraised, causing him to beat a hasty retreat.
"Bad luck to such a nager!" exclaimed Bridget, as Bowles shut the door.
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