Mac Cann roused himself.
"We are here for the night; that rain won't stop as long as there's a drop left in its can."
"I'll slip down to the cart and bring back whatever food is in it. I left every thing covered and I don't think they'll be too wet."
"Do that," said her father.
"There's a big bottle rolled up in a sack," he continued; "it's in a bucket at the front of the cart by the right shaft, and there's a little sup of whisky in the big bottle."
"I'll bring that too."
"You're a good girl," said he.
"What will I do with the ass this night?" said Mary.
"Hit him a kick," said her father.