As I was going over the Cork and Kerry mountains, I saw Captain Farrell. He was smoking his pipe, his purse full of coins hanging off his belt. My eyes glittering, I went up to him, and said, "Good morning, Captain, fancy meeting you here."
"Molly," he said, looking me square in the bosom, "I didn't expect to see you here, and so early. What brings you out today?"
"Me," I said, "I'm just carrying some whiskey home to my Daddy-O," I showed him the gallon jug of whiskey, "would you like a sip to get you started for the day, Captain?" I batted my eyes at him.
"He makes YOU carry that gallon jug while he loafs 'round," Captain Farrell's eyebrows shot up, as he took the jug from me and helped himself to a swig of whiskey, "'tis a real oaf you got there, Molly."
"Don't I know it, Captain Farrell," I said, taking the jug back, "fancies himself a highway man. Robbing from the rich to give to the poor and all that. But really all he does is laze about and not look for work."
"You oughta get rid of him, Molly," Captain Farrell said, "get yourself a proper man," again, he looked me square in the bosom.
"But he gets cross something awful every time I throw him out," I complained, "downright angry, " I took the Captain's arm, "walk me home, Captain, I've an idea how to get rid of him for good, but I need your help. I can't do it alone, see." I batted my eyes at him and leaned in close.
The idea I had was for my would-be highwayman of a Daddy-O to come upon Captain Farrell counting his money, steal it, and then come home to me. Thinking he got away with this theft, Daddy-O would get drunk to celebrate, and when he was good and drunk, Captain Farrell would burst into the house and kill him for the theft, thereby getting rid of him FOR ME. And then, I explained to Captain Farrell, I would be free to take a new fellow. And since Captain Farrell had gotten rid of Daddy-O for me, it would only be natural that HE SHOULD be that new fellow. Captain Farrell liked this plan, and why wouldn't he. It got him my bosom that he'd been staring at the whole way home.
I arrived at home and plopped the jug of whiskey on the table. "Guess who I saw," I told Daddy-O, who was just then coming awake, having smelled whiskey.
"Seamus O'Rourke," he guessed, "fat as anything and headed to breakfast somewhere."
"No," I laughed, "that tub of lard is probably on his third lunch by now. I saw Captain Farrell, with a fat purse hanging off his belt. Headed for the Cork & Kerry mountains he was. Get up, Daddy-O, he was alone."