Mrs. O'Brien had only
a little of it--just the bit of a soft brogue that comes from Dublin,
where she had lived for a long time. The most of the others had a good
deal more. But as I go on with the story from here, I see no use in
trying to write the brogue. It is hard to spell and confusing to read.
If you do not know what a good Irish brogue is, you would never learn
from any attempt of mine to spell it out for you; and if you do know
what it is, you can put it in for yourself. I may have to try to write
a little of it now and then, for there is some Irish that does not
look like Irish when it is written in English, but I shall use as
little of it after this as I can. Naggeneen is back by this time.
Naggeneen sauntered into the hall where the King and the Queen and all
the company were waiting for him, with his hands in his pockets, quite
as if he had been out for a quiet stroll and had come back because he
was tired of it. "Well," said the King, "did you see the King of All
Ireland?"
"I saw him with my good-looking eyes," Naggeneen answered.
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