Mearbhall (tuilleadh)
Bewilderment (continued)
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“Á! A dheartháirín!” adeir sé. “Ná tóg orm é. Tá mé leathmharbh le uaigneas ó d’imigh mo dheirfiúr dhá bhliain ó shoin.”“Tuigim,” adeir mé. “In ainm Dé, ná tog ormsa ach an oiread an drochfhocal a labhair mé.”
“Ní thógfad a stór,” adúirt an fear. “Tá’s agam nach le oilbhéas a ghearr tú amach an focal taodach.”
“Go deimhin, ní hea,” adeir mé féin, “is iomaí uair a sciorann cúpla focal mímhúinte thar an teanga i nganfhios don intinn.”
“Oh! little brother!“ he said, “Don’t take it out on me. I’ve been half dead with loneliness since my sister left two years ago.”
“I understand,” I said. “In God’s name, don’t hold any of the bad words I said against me either.”
“I wouldn’t take it, my dear,” said the man. “I know it was not from viciousness that you cut out the word ‘impulsive’.”
“Indeed, no,” I said myself, “many times a few rude words slip over the tongue without the mind knowing.”
uaigneas Loneliness, solitude m oilbhéas Evil habit; mischievousness, unruliness;
crossness, viciousnessm taodach = taghdach Fitful, impulsive, quick-tempered; changeable, capricious iomaí many sciorr Slip, slide, slither, skid mímhúinte Unmannerly, rude, ill-bred