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Wiggin, Kate Douglas Smith, 1856-1923

"Penelope's Irish Experiences"

"I wouldn't stop to fool with the door-
knob till I dropped you this," she said. "Oonah, you go and wash
your hands clean, and help Miss Peabody into it,--and mind you start
the lacing right at the top; and you, Peter, run down to Rooney's
and get the donkey and the cart, and bring 'em back with you,--and
don't you let the grass grow under your feet neither!"
There was literally no other mode of conveyance within miles, and
time was precious. Salemina wrapped herself in Francesca's long
black cloak, and climbed into the cart. Dinnis hauls turf in it,
takes a sack of potatoes or a pig to market in it, and the stubborn
little ass, blind of one eye, has never in his wholly elective
course of existence taken up the subject of speed.
It was eight o'clock when Benella mounted the seat beside Salemina,
and gave the donkey a preliminary touch of the stick.
"Be aisy wid him," cautioned Peter. "He's a very arch donkey for a
lady to be dhrivin', and mebbe he'd lay down and not get up for
you."
"Arrah! shut yer mouth, Pether. Give him a couple of belts anondher
the hind leg, melady, and that'll put the fear o' God in him!" said
Dinnis.
"I'd rather not go at all," urged Salemina timidly; "it's too late,
and too extraordinary."
"I'm not going to have it on my conscience to make you lose this
dinner-party,--not if I have to carry you on my back the whole way,"
said Benella doggedly; "and this donkey won't lay down with me
more'n once,--I can tell him that right at the start.


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