'Master Phil! Tare-an'-ages! are you a friend of Master Phil's? Arrah, why didn't you tell me that before? Why didn't you mintion his name to me? Och! isn't myself proud this evening to be with a friend of the Captain's. See now, what's your name?'
'Hinton,' said I.
'Ay, but your Christian name?'
'They who know me best call me Jack Hinton.'
'Musha! but I'd like to call you Jack Hinton just for this once. Now, will you do one thing for me?'
'To be sure, Joe; what is it?'
'Make them give me a half-pint to drink your health and the Captain's; for, faix, you must be the right sort, or he wouldn't keep company with you. It's just like yesterday to me the day I met him, down at Bishop's Loch. The hounds came to a check, and a hailstorm came on, and all the gentlemen went into a little shebeen house for shelter. I was standing outside, as it may be here, when Master Phil saw me. “Come in, Joe,” says he; “you 're the best company, and the pleasantest fellow over a mug of egg-nip.” And may I never! if he didn't make me sit down fornint him at a little table, and drink two quarts of as beautiful flip as ever I tasted. And Master Phil has a horse here, ye tell me—what's his name?'
'That, Joe, I am afraid I can't pronounce for you; it's rather beyond my English tongue; but I know that his colour's grey, and that he has one cropped ear.'
'That's Moddiridderoo!' shouted Joe, as throwing my portmanteau to the ground, he seated himself leisurely on it, and seemed lost in meditation.
'Begorra,' said he at length, 'he chose a good-tempered one, when he was about it! there never was such a horse foaled in them parts. Ye heard what he did to Mr. Shea, the man that bred him? He threw him over a wall, and then jumped after him; and if it wasn't that his guardian-angel made his leather breeches so strong, he'd have ate him up entirely! Sure, there's no one can ride him barrin' the man I was talkin' of.'