much occupied with his work to speak, and as for me it took all my time to keep on the rocking and swaying car, and to hold my hat and mackintosh so as to shield myself, as well as I could, from the pelting storm. Andy seemed to be above all considerations of personal comfort. He turned up his coat collar, that was all; and soon he was as shiny as my own waterproof rug. Indeed, altogether, he seemed quite as well off as I was, or even better, for we were both as wet as we could be, and whilst I was painfully endeavouring to keep off the rain he was free from all responsibility and anxiety of endeavour whatever.
At length, as we entered on a long straight stretch of level road, he turned to me and said:—
"Yer 'an'r it's no kind iv use dhrivin' like this all the way to Carnaclif. This shtorm 'll go on for hours. I know thim well up in these mountains, wid' a nor'-aist wind blowin'. Wouldn't it be betther for us to get shelther for a bit?"
"Of course it would," said I. "Try it at once! Where can you go?"
"There's a place nigh at hand, yer 'an'r, the Widdy Kelligan's sheebeen, at the cross-roads of Glennashaughlin. It's quite contagious. Gee-up! ye ould corncrake! hurry up to Widdy Kelligan's."
It seemed almost as if the mare understood him and shared his wishes, for she started with increased speed down a laneway that opened out a little on our left. In a few minutes we reached the cross-roads, and also
