There were slices of bacon in it and slices of beef; there were ten sausages in it and the biggest half of a loaf—these, with a small flat bottle full of rum and two pairs of stockings, made up the parcel.
"Put the sausages in a pan," said Patsy, "and share them round and we'll eat them."
Mary did put them on the pan, and when they were cooked she shared them round, and they were fairly eaten.
After breakfast the pipes were lit, but they rose almost immediately to continue the journey.
"This evening," said Finaun, "we will be saying good-bye."
"Aye," said Mac Cann, "I'm sorry you're going, for we had a good time together."
The ass took his instructions, and they went down the road. Their places were now as they had always been—Finaun and Eileen Ni Cooley and Mary Mac Cann went with the ass, and there was no lack of conversation in that assembly, for sometimes they talked to one another and sometimes they talked to the ass, but the donkey listened no matter who was being talked to, and not a person objected to him.
Patsy and Caeltia marched sturdily at the tailboard, and they were close in talk.
Behind them Art was ranging aimlessly, and lilting snatches of song. He did not know the entire of any song but he knew verses of many, and he was able to relate the tunes of these so harmoniously, with such gradual slipping of theme into theme, that twenty minutes of his varied lilting could appear like one consecutive piece of music.
"That lad has a great ear," said Patsy. "He could make his fortune at the music."