to let that boy stand there with his face hanging out for the want of a
lemonade?
Uncle Pat says,Wha? and Uncle Pa Keating gets impatient. Christ,
hes dragging your feckin papers all over Limerick and you cantOh,
never mind.Timmy, give the child a lemonade. Frankie, dont you have
a raincoat at home?
No, Uncle Pa.
Youre not supposed to be out in this weather. Youre drenched
entirely.Who sent you out in this muck?
Grandma said I had to help Uncle Pat because of his bad leg.
Course she did, the oul bitch, but dont tell them I said that.
Uncle Pat is struggling off the seat and gathering up his papers.
Come on, tis gettin dark.
He hobbles along the streets calling, Anna Lie Sweets Lie, which
doesnt sound a bit like Limerick Leader and it doesnt matter because
everyone knows this is Ab Sheehan that was dropped on his head. Here,
Ab, give us a Leader, hows your poor leg, keep the change an get your-
self a fag for tis an awful feckin night to be out sellin the feckin papers.
Tanks, says Ab, my uncle.Tanks, tanks, tanks, and its hard to keep up
with him on the streets bad as his leg is.He says,How many Leaders have
you under your oxter?
One, Uncle Pat.
Take that Leader in to Mr. Timoney. He owes me for a fortnight
now. Get that money an theres a tip. Hes a good man for the tip an
dont be shovin it in your pocket like your cousin Gerry. Shoved it in
his pocket, the little bugger.
I bang on the door with the knocker and theres a great howl from
a dog so big he makes the door shake.A mans voice says, Macushla, quit
the bloody racket or Ill give you a good fong in the arse for yourself.
The racket stops, the door opens and the man is there, white hair, thick
glasses, white sweater, a stick in his hand. He says,Who is it? Who do we
have?
The paper, Mr.Timoney.
We dont have Ab Sheehan here, do we?
Im his nephew, sir.
Is it Gerry Sheehan we have here?
No, sir. Im Frank McCourt.
Another nephew? Does he make them? Is there a little nephew fac-
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