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"I dare say we'll get at the lord by an' by" says Ryan, untouched. "Go yer ways, will ye? an' quick too. Maybe if ye thry me too far, ye'll learn to rue this night." "Of the last time I heard any one sing," returns he, slowly. "I was comparing that singer very unfavorably with you. Your voice is so unlike what one usually hears in drawing-rooms." "Oh, is that their name?—a pretty one too—if—er—somewhat difficult," says Lady Lilias, courteously. "Well as I was saying, in spite of their tails, they really are quite pretty.".

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"But you said you knew the entire locality,—couldn't be puzzled within a radius of thirty miles. How far are we from home?" "I'm ready now, miss, if you are," says Mickey from the background, with the utmost bonhommie, and in a tone that implies he is quite willing not to be ready, if it so pleases her, for another five minutes or so, or even, if necessary, to efface himself altogether. He is a stalwart young Hibernian, with rough hair and an honest face, and gray eyes, merry and cunning, and so many freckles that he looks like a turkey-egg. The old woman outside called to them, "Friends, is it smoking in there now?" "I have the book that contains it at Coolnagurtheen," he says, somewhat subdued. "Shall I bring it to you?".