'Not on ye'er life,' says Flaherty. 'Get
out iv here, or I'll make th' ghost iv a ghost out iv ye. I can lick
anny dead man that iver lived,' he said.
"With that th' ghost iv O'Grady made a pass at him, an' they clinched
an' rowled on th' flure. Now a ghost is no aisy mark f'r anny man, an'
O'Grady's ghost was as sthrong as a cow. It had Flaherty down on th'
flure an' was feedin' him with a book they call th' 'Christyan
Martyrs,' whin Mrs. O'Grady put a bottle in Flaherty's hands. 'What's
this?' says Flaherty. 'Howly wather,' says Mrs. O'Grady. 'Sprinkle it
on him,' says Mrs. O'Grady. 'Woman,' says th' tailor between th'
chapter iv th' book, 'this is no time f'r miracles,' he says. An' he
give O'Grady's ghost a treminjous wallop on th' head. Now, whether it
was th' wather or th' wallop, I'll not tell ye; but, annyhow, th'
ghost give wan yell an' disappeared. An' th' very next Sundah, whin
Father Kelly wint into th' pulpit at th' gospel, he read th' names iv
Roger Kickham Flaherty an' Mary Ann O'Grady."
"Did the ghost ever come back?" asked Mr.
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