No
porther. An' himsilf looked natural--as fine a corpse as iver Gavin laid
out. Gavin tould me so himsilf. He was as pr-roud iv McGuire as if he
ownded him; fetched half th' town in to look at him an' give ivery wan
iv thim his ca-ards. He near frightened ol' man Dugan into a faint.
'Misther Dugan, how old a-are ye?' 'Sivinty-five, thanks be,' says
Dugan. 'Thin,' says Gavin, 'take wan iv me ca-ards,' he says. 'I hope
ye'll not forget me,' he says.
"'Twas there I got th' lah grip. Lasteways 'tis me opinion iv it, though
th' docther says I swallowed a bug. It don't seem right, Jawn, f'r th'
McGuires is a clane fam'ly, but th' docther says a bug got into me
system. 'What sort iv bug?' says I. 'A lah grip bug,' he says. 'Yez have
Mickrobes in ye'er lung,'he says. 'What's thim?' says I. 'Thims th' lah
grip bugs,' says he. 'Ye took wan in an' warmed it,' he says, 'an' it
has growed an' multiplied till ye'er system does be full iv thim,' he
says, 'millions iv thim,' he says, 'ma-archin' an' counthermarchin'
through ye.' 'Glory be to th' saints,' says I.
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