An' the bit of rose
ribbon round her waist, hanging down behind--now I ask y'r anner, is it
like a wumman at all? See the face of her, with the little snappin' eyes
an' the yellow beak of a nose, an' the sunset in her cheeks that's put on
wid a painter's brush! Look at her trippin' about! Floatin'--shure,
that's what she's doin'! If you listened hard, you'd hear her buzzin'.
It's the truth I tell ye. D'ye follow me?"
The Young Doctor liked talking to Patsy Kernaghan better than to any
other person in Askatoon. He was always sure to be stimulated by a new
point of view, but he never failed to provoke Kernaghan by scepticism.
"One wild bird from 'Pernambukoko' does not make a zoological garden,
Patsy," he said with an air of dissent.
"Well, that's true for you, Doctor dear," answered Kernaghan, "but this
gardin's got a bunch of specimens for all that. Listen to me now. Did ye
ever notice the likeness between the faces of people and of animals an'
things that fly? You never did? Well, be thinkin' of it now. Ivry man and
wumman here at Tralee looks like an animal or a bird in a zoolyogical
gardin. Shure, there's no likeness between anny two of them; it's as if
they was gathered from ivry corner of the wide wurruld. There's a
Mongolian in the kitchen an' slitherin' about outside, doin' the things
that's part for man and part for wumman. Li Choo they call him.
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