“But the beast will do harm to you. Here, off you get! The Lord preserve us, never did I see such a sight in the whole course of my life!”
As he spoke, the farmer, who was a big, burly man, lifted Peggy to the ground, drove the bulls to the other side of the field, and taking the girl’s hand led her into a narrow lane which happened to be an approach to his own house.
“For the Lord’s sake tell me what you have been doing with my bull!” he exclaimed.
“Why thin, it’s only a ride I was takin’ on him,” said Peggy.
“A ride on a bull! Wherever were you riz, girl?”
“In Ireland, sure, yer honour; we ain’t afeard of bulls in Ould Ireland.”
“So I should say. You’re an uncommonly brave lass, you might have been killed.”
“Not me. ’Tain’t any animal under the sun as ’u’d injure me. I’ve a heart inside of me, ye see, to love thim all.”
The man looked at her attentively. “Whoever be you?” he said. “Your face is strange to me.”
“Ah well, and that’s likely enough. I’m Peggy Desmond. I come from a cabin in Ireland, County Kerry, as pretty a spot as ye could find on the face of the globe.”