The summer holidays had come at last and I couldn\u2019t wait to get out on the farm. Jimmy Comerton had commandeered three of the men to help him dip the two hundred and fifty sheep we had at the time. It was a messy job. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
One man would toss a sheep in one end of the dip and two more would drag it out the other. Two men were required at the far end, as the saturated wool would weigh a ton and the sheep needed help to clamber out of the water. Once out, they would start shaking frantically in an effort to shed the water, drenching anyone within a three-yard radius. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Fortunately, it was a warm day and everyone was in their shirtsleeves \u2013 and oilskins – enjoying the tepid Irish sun. There was an audible sigh of relief, however, when we saw my mother arrive with tea and sandwiches. We dropped everything and headed for some hay bales in the shed opposite. Sandwiches were grabbed but the tea ignored in favour of the stout that had been poorly concealed at the bottom of the basket.\u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n\n
That morning my father had been into Ross to see Dr Quighan about an annoying cough he couldn\u2019t shake off. So, the conversation inevitably came round to doctors and quacks, which, in Jimmy Comerton\u2019s eyes, were one and the same. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThat was a terrible risk you were takin\u2019 now, Boss,\u201d says Jimmy, popping the top of a bottle of stout.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cOh, why\u2019s that, Jimmy?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cGoin\u2019 to see that quack Quighan. Sure, you\u2019d go in with a thorn in your finger and come out missin\u2019 a limb. He\u2019d as lief amputate your hand as take out the thorn. With that cough you have, you could have come away with only one lung.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI wouldn\u2019t go near the fucker,\u201d says Mylsey Murphy, the pigman who had been requisitioned into helping Jimmy. Mylsey had a weak arm and leg, which meant he walked with a hobbly-wobbly lopsided lope. \u201cWhen I was on\u2019y six, didn\u2019t me mother take me into Ross to see Quighan. In those days, we had to take the ass and car. It took us about three hours to get there and then we had to sit another hour or two in the waitin\u2019 room. That was terrible hardship for a six-year-old lad, I can tell you. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Anyway, Quighan\u2019s receptionist finally calls us in and me and me mother stands there opposite his desk while your man spends five minutes writin\u2019 in a big ledger. Finally, he raises his head, takes one look at me and says, \u2018Jesus, you\u2019re one miserable looking fucker, aren\u2019t you?\u2019 He got up and told me to strip. I was as thin as a sprong handle back then. No matter what I ate, I couldn\u2019t keep the flesh on me. \u2018Christ!\u2019 says he, a look of horror on his face. \u2018Where did they salvage you from? Auschwitz?\u2019\u00a0 He thought this hilarious and fell into fits of laughter. He took out his stethoscope, anyway, and held it to me bare chest. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
A second later, his face went into contortions. \u2018I can\u2019t hear a fucking thing. Is he alive or only pretending? If so, he must have a heart the size of a midge?\u2019 \u2018He\u2019s always been a bit wake, Doctor,\u2019 says me mother. \u2018Weak? Is that what you call it? Moribund is more like it.\u2019 \u2018What\u2019s that now, Doctor?\u2019 says me mam. \u2018Well, I can tell you it\u2019s not good.\u2019 \u2018Is it serious, Doctor?\u2019 \u2018All I can say, M\u2019am, is that it\u2019s in the hands of the Lord whether he lives or dies. I\u2019ll prescribe a bit of ould medicine for him but the state he\u2019s in he\u2019ll be lucky to make it to his next birthday.\u2019 \u2018What can I do, Doctor?\u2019 \u2018Pray to God that he goes nice and gentle.\u2019 Anyway, he scribbled out a prescription, shoved it into me mother\u2019s hand and straightway lit up a cigarette.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWell, you\u2019re still goin\u2019 strong, Mylsey,\u201d says Jimmy.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cNo thanks to that fucker Quighan, I can tell ye.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThere was a time when only the worst doctors would end up in a small country town like Ross. Did I ever tell ye about a doctor by the name of Brian Muldoon?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cOh, Jes\u2019, wasn\u2019t he a terrible man for the drink.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cFor the life of him he couldn\u2019t function sober. If he could look ye straight in the eye and was able to stand straight, ye needed to watch out. You wouldn\u2019t know what he\u2019d stick into you, nor what poison he\u2019d dose ye with. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Once, after visitin\u2019 him when he was sober, I went into the Chemist\u2019s and handed Cory the prescription. He took one look at it and says, \u2018Ah, this must be from the sober Muldoon. If I were to give you this, you\u2019d die a very prolonged and painful death. But I think I know what he\u2019s getting at.\u2019 Now, if he was drunk you were fine.\u00a0 He\u2019d laugh and joke and give you a thorough examination without a word of slander out of him. A perfect bedside manner, you could say.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cDo ye remember, Boss, the time when Mick fell and cracked his skull on the side of the harrow and ye took him to Muldoon?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cCould I ever forget? It was past midday so Muldoon was already two sheets in the wind. He took one look at Mick and said, \u2018I know you. You\u2019re one of the Roches from that dirty back lane where all the babbies come from.\u2019 \u2018No,\u2019 said Mick. \u2018The name\u2019s Kehoe.\u2019 \u2018All right, Roche. I\u2019m going to stitch you up. Now, I don\u2019t want any squealing out of you. It\u2019s not good for my nerves.\u2019 Mick told me afterwards he was in agony because Muldoon didn\u2019t use any anaesthetic. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Mick didn\u2019t dare make a sound, though. When he\u2019d finished, the doctor put a net cap over Mick\u2019s head. \u2018Now, Roche,\u2019 he says, admiring his handwork, \u2018that is not for cosmetic purposes.\u2019 He found this uproariously funny and was still chuckling away to himself when we left the room. But, as Jimmy said, when he\u2019d had a few to drink he was an excellent doctor.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cOh, back then, Boss, \u2018twas a terrible job bein\u2019 a doctor. You\u2019d be called out at all hours of the day and night and in all weathers too, all for a few rotten eggs or a mangy ould chicken or a lump of salty bacon. Sure, the people had no money in them days. They lived from hand to mouth, so to speak.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u00a0\u201cI\u2019ll never forget the time ould Quighan was called out to Paddy Byrne\u2019s place,\u201d said Mylsey \u201cThe ould fella was on his death bed. There was nothin\u2019 much anyone could do for him. Anyway, all Meg Byrne had in the house was a salmon. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Oh, a lovely big salmon it was too. Now, how Paddy Byrne come by it, I don\u2019t know. Anyway, Quighan was delighted. He loved salmon. So, Meg wrapped it up in greaseproof paper and gave it the doctor on his way out. Halfway home, Quighan got a whiff of the salmon on the back seat. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
He thought it smelt a bit high but put no pass on it. When he got home, he proudly presents Josey with the salmon, thinkin\u2019 she\u2019d be thrilled. But when she saw the fish, she nearly threw it back in his face. \u2018What in God\u2019s name do you expect me to do with that, Quighan? Sure, I wouldn\u2019t give it to a starvin\u2019 cat.\u2019 They say Josey Quighan gave him a fair ould latherin\u2019 after that. \u2018You go out in the pourin\u2019 rain,\u2019 says she, \u2018travel halfway across the country and you come home with a stinkin\u2019 fish. Well, you can go to bed with an empty stomach now and maybe that\u2019ll knock a bit of sense into you, so you won\u2019t come home emptyhanded again.\u2019 Oh, she was a cranky ould biddy was Josey Quighan. He was well rid of her when she died.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cNow,\u201d says Jimmy, getting comfortable between two bales of hay. \u201cI\u2019m goin\u2019 to tell yez a story you may not know. Do your remember Nanny Burrows that did live next to the Ballagh bridge?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cOh, aye,\u201d said Mylsey. \u201cI remember Nanny well.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n
<\/strong>\u201cWell, Nanny Burrows was better than any doctor and she never took a penny piece from no one. You wouldn\u2019t credit the number of people she cured.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cDidn\u2019t they say she was a witch?\u201d said Mylsey.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cAh, Father Malachy branded her a witch \u2018cos she didn\u2019t go to mass of a Sunday but she was no more of a witch than I am. I wouldn\u2019t be surprised if the doctors didn\u2019t put Malachy up to it \u2018cos she was takin\u2019 away their business. No. Nanny Burrows wouldn\u2019t hurt a fly. And when I say wouldn\u2019t hurt a fly, I mean it. Sure, one summer\u2019s evenin\u2019 we were sittin\u2019 by the river, Nanny and meself. She\u2019d given me a glass of her cherry brandy. Oh, she was very fond of the cherry brandy. She made it herself out of the cherries she had in the garden. As you can imagine, the place was hummin\u2019 with all sorts of insects; midges, bees, flies, you name it. Well, a fly was hell bent on taking a sup of me cherry brandy. So, I went to squash it between me hands. But Nanny lets out a shriek as if I was about to murder someone. \u2018Jimmy Comerton,\u2019 says she. \u2018Don\u2019t you dare! That fly has just as much a right to this space as you have. If we don\u2019t respect nature, it won\u2019t respect us.\u2019 Some said she wouldn\u2019t even kill a spider. There were others too who said she kept them to use in her potions, but I wouldn\u2019t credit that. You see, Nanny had great knowledge of botany. All the cures and potions she knew had been passed down from mother to daughter for generations. You\u2019d see her wanderin\u2019 the ditches and along the river bank all hours of the day and night in search of weeds and grasses that she\u2019d use in her potions. The whole house was full of jars with liquids of all hues. To be honest with you now, they looked more like what you\u2019d take to the microbiologist than somethin\u2019 you\u2019d dose yourself with, but anyway. Did ye ever go into her place, Mylsey?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cI did not. If it was dark we\u2019d take another route home and if it was day we\u2019d make sure to pass on the opposite side of the bridge.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cAh, Nanny was a harmless ould soul. I often went up there to see that she and the lad was all right.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cDidn\u2019t she have a boy that was not all there?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cAh, Donal was a grand lad. He\u2019d come up to ye and put his arms around ye and give ye a rare big hug, as if ye were his long-lost uncle. He was what they call a mongoloid.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cDown Syndrome,\u201d corrected my father.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cThe very same. Nanny could have put him in a home, but she wouldn\u2019t do anythin\u2019 like that. She said, \u2018I love that boy more than anythin\u2019 in the world.\u2019 Donal went everywhere with her, helpin\u2019 her look for all those plants. Nanny had taught him how to read and he could write a bit too. He didn\u2019t speak all that clear but he could talk the hind legs off a dunkey, if you gave him half a chance. Oh, Nanny and Donal were very close but she had a terrible fear that she\u2019d die before him. Now, the mongoloids, or as the Boss calls \u2018em, the Down Syndrome people, don\u2019t live all that long as a rule. They\u2019re very prone to illnesses. But Nanny was in her forties when she had him and she was goin\u2019 on eighty-five at the time. I don\u2019t know what happened to Mr. Burrows. Some said he died. Others said that he scarpered as soon as he clapped eyes on Donal. Anyway, Nanny and Donal were as happy as Larry together.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cAs you can imagine they got lots of visitors from all over, people who had tried doctors and got no results, or simply people who believed in the old medicine. Anyway, one day a grand car pulled up outside Nanny Burrows\u2019 humble abode \u2013 a Bentley I think it was – and out got a very glamorous lady, all in purple silks and shiny furs. The chauffeur got out too and escorted her to the front door. \u2018Is this the residence of Mrs.Nanny Burrows?\u2019 the chauffeur calls out in a haughty voice. \u2018It is,\u2019 says Donal, jumpin\u2019 up from behind a tree. The chauffeur gave him a quare look or two and says, \u2018Is Nanny here?\u2019 \u2018Mammy,\u2019 shouts Donal. \u2018Some grand people are wantin\u2019 ye.\u2019 Well, it turned out anyway that the lovely lady was a famous actress from Dublin. She was in all the great plays of the time and in a good many films too. Apparently, she had been diagnosed with breast cancer. Now we know that that can be a killer if you don\u2019t have a \u2026what\u2019s that called now, Boss?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cMastectomy.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cThe very same. Now bein\u2019 a celebrity and all, she was loath to have her breast removed for fear it would ruin her career. She had a fine pair, so they say, that were the envy of many a young lady of the time. Somehow she\u2019d heard of Nanny Burrows\u2019 miraculous cures, so she thought she\u2019d give it a go. Now, Nanny didn\u2019t want to give her false hopes. So, she says, \u2018I can\u2019t guarantee you\u2019ll get better.\u2019 \u2018But they told me you have cured cancer.\u2019 \u2018Tis true that some have got cured but I\u2019m no miracle worker.\u2019 \u2018Well, I\u2019ll be honest with you, Nanny. I\u2019d sooner die than lose my breasts.\u2019 \u2018You can always wear a falsy,\u2019 says Nanny. \u2018Falsy!\u2019 yelled the grand lady, makin\u2019 Donal jump up in fright. \u2018What\u2019s a falsy, Mammy?\u2019 says Donal, thinkin\u2019 that it must be somethin\u2019 terrible altogether. \u2018Don\u2019t worry yourself, Donal. It\u2019s just somethin\u2019 some women wear.\u2019 \u2018Not me,\u2019 says the grand lady emphatically. \u2018Now, when can we start treatment?\u2019 \u2018Are you absolutely sure? I don\u2019t want you blamin\u2019 me if it don\u2019t work.\u2019 \u2018No, I won\u2019t. In fact, I\u2019ll grant any wish you want, if I get rid of the cancer.\u2019\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cWell, they started the treatment, anyway. And, \u2018clare to God, about a year later, didn\u2019t the doctors give her a clean bill of health. Oh, she was over the moon. Now, you might think she\u2019d forget all about her promise to Nanny, but she didn\u2019t. She was a woman of her word. One Sunday afternoon the Bentley pulled up outside Nanny\u2019s cottage. Nanny was makin\u2019 some potion or other in the kitchen but she sat down by the fire anyway with the lovely lady. Nanny wet the tay and they began talkin\u2019. \u2018I owe you my life and my career, Nanny, and I\u2019ve come to carry out my promise. I said that I\u2019d give you anything you wanted. I know you won\u2019t take money, so what is it that I can do for you?\u2019 It appears that Nanny didn\u2019t have to think long. \u2018I\u2019m eighty-six years old and Donal is goin\u2019 on fifty. I don\u2019t know which of us will go first but if I do I want you to look after Donal for me.\u2019 \u2018Is that all?\u2019 says the grand lady. \u2018I could get you a new house in the town.\u2019 \u2018A house in town. Now what would I do with that? A town is a sterile place. Where would I find what I need for my potions?\u2019 \u2018Well, can I do up this place? A fridge? A cooker? A television?\u2019 \u2018Now what would I do with a fridge. Don\u2019t I have a larder that do be ten times bigger than a fridge? I don\u2019t need a cooker either. Sure, I cooks everything on the open fire. And a television, ha! They says it do nothin\u2019 but soften the brain.\u2019 \u2018So, all you want from me is to look after Donal, if you should pass before him?\u2019 \u2018That\u2019s right.\u2019\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cSo, the lovely lady left her address and phone number and went away back to Dublin. And, sure enough, about four or five years later, didn\u2019t Nanny get a bad flu that turned to pneumonia. She refused to go into hospital because she was sure they\u2019d dose her with all sorts of poisons, but her own potions were not strong enough to cure her. And late one evenin\u2019 Donal comes runnin\u2019 into Maguire\u2019s yard shoutin\u2019, \u2018Come, come, me Mammy is chokin\u2019.\u2019 Well, that was the end of Nanny Burrows. By the time Maggie Maguire got to the cottage, Nanny had stopped breathin\u2019 altogether. You should have heard the wailin\u2019 out of Donal. You could damn near hear him all the way to the Rock.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cSo, what was to become of Donal? Because as sure as hell he couldn\u2019t live by himself and no one was inclined to take him in. There was talk of puttin\u2019 him in a home run by the nuns but then I remembered Nanny tellin\u2019 me about the grand lady from Dublin who had promised to look after him. We found her address and phone number but the phone was dead and no one replied to the letters we sent to Dublin. Somehow, though, I thought the message would get through to her. So, I says, \u2018We can make a roster so that someone passes by the cottage every day and makes sure Donal is fed and kept warm until the grand lady gets one of the letters we\u2019re after sendin\u2019 her.\u2019 So, that\u2019s what we did. Donal remained in the cottage but he spent a lot of time in the houses all round. He seemed happy enough but I and some others were terrible afraid he\u2019d forget to put the guard in front of the fire one night and he and the cottage would go up in smoke.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cAnyway, as luck would have it, didn\u2019t the Bentley turn up one day at the Burrows\u2019s cottage. The lovely lady was distraught when she found out that Nanny had passed away. Maggie Maguire was over at the cottage at the time givin\u2019 Donal the bit of dinner. \u2018We tried to get in touch with you,\u2019 says Maggie. \u2018Yes, yes, I\u2019m sorry. I live in London now.\u2019 \u2018So, you got our letter, anyway?\u2019 \u2018No, I didn\u2019t. It must have got lost.\u2019 \u2018So, what brought you down then?\u2019 \u2018The cancer has come back. In the other breast this time. Without Nanny\u2019s medicine I\u2019m going to have to have a mastectomy.\u2019 \u2018I\u2019m sorry,\u2019 says Maggie. \u2018Nanny didn\u2019t have a daughter to pass on her knowledge to.\u2019 \u2018But she had a son,\u2019 said Donal. They all laughed. \u2018I know, Donal. She had a son and a lovely son too, but she didn\u2019t have a daughter to pass the knowledge down to.\u2019 \u2018But she had a son,\u2019 repeated Donal. They thought there was no point trying to explain to him that all the potions Nanny had on the shelves in every room in the cottage were useless if they didn\u2019t know what each one was for. \u2018I\u2019m sorry,\u2019 says Maggie to the grand lady. \u2018You\u2019ll have to rely on conventional medicine.\u2019 Then, Donal shouts out, \u2018Falsy!\u2019 They looked around at Donal wondering what he was gettin\u2019 at. \u2018No falsy!\u2019 Then, the grand lady clicked. \u2018I know what he\u2019s saying. Women who have had a mastectomy wear a breast substitute, what Nanny referred to as a falsy.\u2019 \u2018No falsy,\u2019 says Donal, lookin\u2019 very disturbed. \u2018What do you mean, Donal?\u2019 says Maggie gently. \u2018That one,\u2019 says Donal goin\u2019 over to one of the shelves, pickin\u2019 off a jar and handin\u2019 it to the grand lady. \u2018Drink that and you won\u2019t have to wear a falsy,\u2019 says Donal. \u2018You mean that\u2019s the medicine your mother gave me?\u2019 \u2018Yes.\u2019 \u2018Are you quite sure now, Donal?\u2019 says Maggie. \u2018We don\u2019t want to poison this lovely lady.\u2019 \u2018Of course, I\u2019m sure.\u2019 \u2018All right, but will one jar be enough?\u2019 The lovely lady looked worried. \u2018I took it for about a year. I must have used about ten jars. One is not enough. What can I do?\u2019 Donal\u2019s face burst into a broad smile. \u2018Nanny didn\u2019t have a daughter but she had a son.\u2019 They both looked at Donal in dismay, not understandin\u2019 what he was tryin\u2019 to say. \u2018And so?\u2019 says Maggie. \u2018So, I have the knowledge!\u2019 says Donal, clappin\u2019 his hands like a child. \u2018I can make more jars. I can make that many,\u2019 says he, holdin\u2019 up ten fingers.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cAnyway, after Donal had had the bit of grub, they sent him up to Maguire\u2019s farm to help with the cows. He loved the cows and could milk them too. Oh, he was a grand milker. When he was gone, the two women sat by the fire and discussed the situation. \u2018I honestly don\u2019t think we can trust Donal,\u2019 says Maggie. \u2018He might end up poisonin\u2019 you.\u2019 The grand lady thought for a bit. \u2018I don\u2019t think I have much choice. I would far sooner trust Nanny\u2019s potion than do chemotherapy. My hair would fall out and goodness knows what it would do to the rest of my body. And there\u2019s no guarantee that it will work either. No, I\u2019ve decided. I\u2019m going to take a chance on Donal.\u2019 And that\u2019s what she did. Sure, Donal had seen his mother make up those potions thousands of time. He knew exactly how to do it.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cSo, it was agreed that the grand lady would pay someone to live permanently with Donal. Sure, you remember Kitty Murphy, who was widowed young and her sons went off to England to become navvies. Well, she was only too happy to move into the cottage and look after Donal, and get paid for it too. So, Donal had a mission in life now. He spent most days searching the hedgerows for the ingredients for the grand lady\u2019s potion. It took him a whole week, so Kitty said, to make just one jar. Anyway, after a year or so, didn\u2019t the doctors declare that the cancer had gone, just as it had the previous time. The Bentley once again was seen parked outside the Burrows\u2019s cottage. The grand lady got out, her cheeks all rosy with health. When she saw Donal she ran up to him and threw her arms around him and they hugged for a good ten minutes, so Kitty said. Well, she offered Donal everythin\u2019 under the sun but like his mother he said he didn\u2019t want nothin\u2019. \u2018All I want is Kitty,\u2019 says Donal. \u2018I love Kitty. Kitty\u2019s my little woman.\u2019 They all laughed at this. Kitty didn\u2019t mind at all bein\u2019 called Donal\u2019s little woman. She knew he was harmless.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cDonal lived for another six years. Many people wouldn\u2019t trust him with the potions. Others would and I\u2019m damn sure he cured a good many. Donal died just like his mother with a bad dose of the flu. Kitty called the ambulance but it was too late. He\u2019d stopped breathin\u2019 by the time they reached Wexford town. Well, there wasn\u2019t one person in Shannagh that wasn\u2019t in mournin\u2019 for the next good while. The grand lady came down and wasn\u2019t she very tearful throughout the ceremony. Oh, there wasn\u2019t another man or woman in the whole townland that got a better send-off. The church was so packed many people had to stand out in the rain during the service. Oh, Donal was very much loved. Sure, he was in and out of every house, always laugin\u2019 and smilin\u2019 and wantin\u2019 to hug you. \u2018Twas a very sad day when Donal died. And, worst of all, the recipes for all them potions and cures died with him. Once, a good while ago now, I says to this doctor I met at the Shannagh show, I says, \u2018Now, if you quacks had any sense in you, you\u2019d go up to the Burrows\u2019s cottage, take away some of them jars and see why they can cure cancer when you boys with all your edication and noledge can\u2019t.\u2019 Well, do ye know what he says to me? He says, \u2018That\u2019s nothing but gobbledygook.\u2019 \u2018Now, what do you mean by that?\u201d says I. \u2018Nonsense.\u2019 \u2018Well, let me tell you, Sir,\u2019 says I. \u2018There was no mumbo jumbo out of Nanny Burrows. She never slagged the doctors like they slagged her.\u2019 Innocent until proven guilty, isn\u2019t that what they say. Well, until someone proves the opposite I\u2019d as soon call the likes of Quighan and Muldoon quacks as I would Nanny Burrows. What I know for a fact anyway, she never killed no one, but I wouldn\u2019t like to say the same for them quacks of doctors.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cWell, I suppose we\u2019ll never know now,\u2019 said my father.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cAnd more\u2019s the pity,\u2019 said Jimmy, nodding his head. \u201cTell me now, Boss. Did Quighan give you a prescription?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cYes, he did. He recommended a cough mixture. Cory said it should do the trick.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cNext time, Boss, save yourself a journey. I could give you the name of a cough mixture that always works for me. Though I wouldn\u2019t say it\u2019s as good as anythin\u2019 Nanny Burrows could have given ye.\u201d <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" The summer holidays had come at last and I couldn\u2019t wait to get out on the farm. Jimmy Comerton had commandeered three of the men to help him dip the two hundred and fifty sheep we had at the time. It was a messy job. One man would toss a sheep in one end of […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[14,2],"tags":[15],"class_list":["post-568","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-fiction","category-issue-1","tag-fiction"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/akpatamag.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/568","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/akpatamag.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/akpatamag.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/akpatamag.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/akpatamag.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=568"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/akpatamag.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/568\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/akpatamag.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=568"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/akpatamag.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=568"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/akpatamag.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=568"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}