“He's a Ballyvourney man, isn't he?”
“He is sir,” replied Wylie, with the gravity of a judge.
Another temptation crossed Sir Marmaduke's mind, but he withstood it, and went on—
“The mountain has then been divided as I ordered, has it?”
“Yes, sir; the lines were all marked out before Saturday.”
“Well, I suppose the people were pleased to know, that they have, each, their own separate pasturage?”
“Indeed, and, sir, I won't tell you a lie—they are not; they'd rather it was the ould way still.”
“What, have I taken all this trouble for nothing then?—is it possible that they'd rather have their cattle straying wild about the country, than see them grazing peaceably on their own land?”
“That's just it, sir; for, you see, when they had the mountain among them, they fed on what they could get; one, had maybe a flock of goats, another, maybe a sheep or two, a heifer, an ass, or a bullsheen.
“A what?”