on you, so I will—Oh, be the powers of pewther, ’tis me own dear Father Cassidy!” he cried.
Father Cassidy, as an answer, raiched for a handful of mud, which he aimed and flung so fair an’ thrue that three days afther Darby was still pulling bits of it from his hair.
“I have a whip I’ll keep private for your own two foine legs!” cried his Riverence; “I’ll taich you to tell lies to the counthry-side about your being with the fairies, and for deludherin’ your own poor wife. I came down this night to eggspose you. But now that’s the laste I’ll do to you!”
“Faith,” says Darby, “if I was with the fairies, ’tis no less than you are this minute, an’ if you eggspose me, I’ll eggspose you!” With that Darby up and tould what was the cause of the whole botheration.
His Riverence, afther the telling, waited not a minute, but kicked the spurs into Terror, and the brave horse headed once more for shore. ’Twas no use. The poor baste turned at last with a cry and floundhered back agin into the mire.
“You’ll not be able to get out, Father acushla,” says Darby, “till you promise fair an’ firm not to
