"Larry wanted to show himself off as the great man o' the day, an' says he, goin' over an' shakin' Maire's hand:
"'You done it the best I ever saw! There's not the beatin' o' you on Ireland's ground. Have you the pound, Mrs. Lanigan?' says he, in a lower tone o' voice, but plenty of us heard him all the same.
"Maire shook his hand, an' Larry was feelin' proud of himself, when she just looked him straight in the face, an' grinned like a monkey an' put out her tongue down to her chin, an' says she, at the top of her voice:
"'Bow-wow, Larry Boylan! Bow-wow!'
"An' with that she made a run through the crowd, an' away home with her, an' Charley after her as fast as he could trot, an' the poor man ashamed of his life. If ever any man got laughed at that man was Larry Boylan. He couldn't go out anywhere, to fair or market or meetin' for long an' long after, but every gossoon in the country'd shout 'Bow-wow' at him till they'd have him ragin'. An' that's what old Maire said to him to-day, that Andy Murtagh was tellin' us about, an' it's thinkin' o' the law case made Larry so mad."
And as Ned M'Grane closed the door of the forge after we had left we heard him laugh softly to himself.
[HOW JOHNNIE GOT HIS DEGREE]
The forge in Balnagore was a sort of library of reference to all the young fellows of the district. No matter what information was sought for regarding events of importance that had occurred in Ireland during the past couple of hundred years (we had not much access to books down there) the one and only thought of the seeker after knowledge was to repair at once, or as soon as his work was finished, to the smithy in which Ned M'Grane reigned, and to ask the same Ned a few questions on the matter which puzzled himself; and Ned, to his credit let me say it, was never, in my recollection, found wanting on any such occasion. His mind was a well-stocked storehouse of local and national history, as well as of humour, which he was ever willing to impart to "the risin' generation," as he called us.