[{"node":{"title":"Hanna226","Collections":"Part Three","Contributor":"Linen Hall Library","Coverage":"1951","Creator":"Linen Hall Library","Date":"Thursday, April 7, 2016","Format":"TIFF","Identifier":"Hanna226","Item Description":"Manuscript","Keywords":"Kipper, Boots","Language":"English","Path":"https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/content/hanna226","Publisher":"Linen Hall Library","Relation":"Linen Hall Library","Rights":"Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike CC BY-NC-SA","Scanned image":{"src":"https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/sites/default/files/Hanna226_0.jpg","alt":""},"Source":"LHL Archive","Transcript":"\ufeff219\n\nChapter Seven\n\nFar away, on a neighbouring hill, a cock clapt\nhis fiery wings and lifted his trumpet to the sky. In\nthe bog below Knocknadreemally a cow crooned patiently.\nA bronze shape stirred in a corner of Petie Sampson?s\nkitchen, shook itself, stepped into the middle of the\nfloor and stretched its long body. The prying light\nthat filtered through the window glowed on the warm\ncolouring of the dog and lit up the miserable kitchen,\nwith its spider-linked roots and dusty jars. The dog\ntrotted over to the sofa and nosed Petie where he lay\nin his cocoon of blankets. The old man turned over\nmuttering but didnt rise until Kipper (the seventh in\na line of Irish setters of that name) laid his forepaws\nover his chest with a resounding thump. Petie shook him\noff. \"Damn-it-skin, you're a right pest,\" he mumbled.\nAfter a few seconds of groaning, stretching and scratching\nhis belly under his shirt, he lowered his bent naked legs\nto the floor. still scratching himself he hobbled across\nthe earth floor to the chair where he had thrown his\ntrousers the night before.\n\nHe drew' them on, and a pair of socks as stiff as\nboards, and clumped into his boots. His toilet was as\nbrief and simple as his dog's - a rubbing of his eyes\nwith a soiled cloth and phelgmy spittle shot into the\nback of the smouldering fire, and he was ready for\nbreakfast and the day's work. He drew the bolt of the\ndoor and went out to relieve himself at the gable of\nthe house. When he came in again he prodded the fire,\nthrew a fresh turf on it, and pushed the porridge-pot\nand the soot-crusted kettle into the embers. When a\n","Type":"Text"}}]