And he gave himself a shove, so that he raised his shoulders above the wall. A brave big pair they were, too, but they were only just held up on crutches. Hughie could balance himself upon them, and get about, as handy as you please. But he was dead of his two legs.
“Oh, Hughie...!” says Heffernan, pretty stiff, “well, and what do you want here?”
“Och, nothing in life....”
“Take it then, and let you be off about your business!” says Mickey as quick as a flash for once; and he that was proud when he had it said!
Hughie had a most notorious tongue himself, but he knew when to keep it quiet, and he thought it as good to appear very mild and down in himself now, so he said, “My business! sure, what word is that to say to a poor old fellah on crutches! Not like you, Mr. Heffernan, that’ll be off to the fair of Balloch to-morrow morning, bright and early, with them grand fine calves of yours. The price they’ll go! There isn’t the peel of them in Ardenoo!”
“Do you tell me that?” says Heffernan, that a child could cheat.
“That’s what they do be telling me,” says Hughie. He could build a nest in your ear, he was that cunning. He thought he saw a chance of getting to the fair himself, and a night’s lodging as well, if he managed right.
“I wish to goodness I could get them there, so,” says Mickey, “and hasn’t one to drive them for me!”
“Would I do?” says Hughie.
Heffernan looked at him up and down.