"Here I am once more, thank St. Dennis," said he, as he placed his foot on the outward steps.
"Ho! Ho! man o' th' leather," again fell on his afflicted ear. He turned about instantly, and about a yard from him beheld a ragged, dirty, one-eyed, lop-winged, grey-pated rogue of a magpie!
The bird cocked up his only eye in the face of Darby with such good-humoured effrontery, that, maimed and jaded as he was, he could not refrain from bursting out into a loud 'Ho! Ho! Ho!'
"Ho! Ho! Ho!" quoth the magpie, turning about and hopping away on a leg and a wing.
"I'll have you, my man, and keep you in token of this night's adventure, if I die for't," said Darby, recrossing the threshold. A long and well supported chace put Mag in turn to his shifts. 'Twas in vain that he shrieked, "Oho! man o' th' leather—leather—leather—man o' th' leather!" The Carrickman was resolute, and after an hour's hard running, Mag reluctantly betook himself to a hole in the garret wall. Darby was close upon him, and thrust his hand into the cavity before the bird's tail had disappeared. Judge of his surprise, when, instead of the pie, he pulled forth a well-remembered little bag of his own, containing the exact price of the Cashelman's leather. He now recollected that the bargain had been struck, and the money paid in the presence of the bird. "It's as clear as the sun at noon," said he,
