That the dead might rise

When Eddie Maguire first got the job of digging graves and tending the lawns up in the cemetery, he was more than content to be well off-side from snooping Dole men, busybody neighbours and sarcastic so-called ‘mates’. 

But nothing works out the way it’s planned. Word got out and every ‘doggie’ man diverted from his usual dog-walking route to pass by with his words of wisdom.

‘Fine job ye have, now, Eddie!’ says Dickie Rodgers, glancing over the low wall.

‘It is, that!’ agreed Eddie. ‘You don’t have till s’arch for yer peace and quiet here!’

Dickie’s eyebrow rose a shade. Irony was not one of Eddie’s strong points. Some one must be coaching him, the Big Man concluded.

‘Never had so many men and women under me!’ Eddie delivered with aplomb and almost as an aside.

‘Not a lot ‘a craic outta them?’ asked Dickie.

‘Not a word,’ reassured Maguire.

‘An’ devil the one, I’ll houl’,’ says the Church Street man, ‘would rise up to help ye!’

‘An’ the first that does,’ concluded Eddie, ‘Can have the job for themselves’,

and he turned and re-applied himself to his task.

It was the first time he had bettered the other,

and didn’t it make him feel good?



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