human
Ah, then, 'tis Frank--Frank O'Mahony, said she.
gpt
Shure I nursed your mother, avourneen, on my knee. But 'tis no wondher the boys didn't know you, for your own mother wouldn't know you with the wet clay of the mountain plastered over your face, and 'tis you are welcome, Frank avourneen, in daylight or in dark, and shure no true Rapparee need close the doore again your father's son.
human
Frank, my boy, said he,