“You forget, sir,” said the young gentleman referred to, “that I was on an English-bred mare, and she doesn't understand these fences.”
“Faith, she wasn't worse off, in that respect, than the man on her back,” said old Conolly, with a hearty chuckle. “If to look before you leap be wisdom, you ought to be the shrewdest fellow in the country.”
“Beecham, I believe, keeps a good place in Northamptonshire,” said his father, half proudly.
“Another argument in favor of the Union, I suppose,” whispered a guest in Conolly's ear.
“Well, well,” sighed the old squire, “when I was a young man, we 'd have thought of bringing over a dromedary from Asia as soon as an English horse to cross the country with.”
“Dick French was the only one I ever heard of backing a dromedary,” said a fat old farmer-like man, from the end of the table.
“How was that, Martin?” said Daly, with a look that showed he either knew the story or anticipated something good.
“And by all accounts, it 's the devil to ride,” resumed the old fellow; “now it's the head down and the loins up, and then a roll to one side, and then to the other, and a twist in the small of your back, as if it were coming in two. Oh, by the good day! Dick gave me as bad as a stitch in the side just telling me about it.”
“But where did he get his experience, Martin? I never heard of it before,” said Daly.
“He was a fortnight in Egypt, sir,” said the old farmer. “He was in a frigate, or a man-of-war of one kind or another, off—the devil a one o' me knows well where it was, but there was a consul there, a son of one of his father's tenants—indeed, ould French got him the place from the Government—and when he found out that Dick was on board the ship, what does he do but writes him an invitation to pass a week or ten days with him at his house, and that he 'd show him some sport. 'We 've elegant hunting,' says he; 'not foxes or hares, but a big bird, bigger nor a goose, they call—'By my conscience, I 'll forget my own name next, for I heard Dick tell the story at least twenty times.”