“Masther Frank.”
“Go ahead, Barney.”
“Av coorse it sames out o’ place to talk of such thrifling matthers, whin we’re enjoying such illegant rows an’ ructions, but thin I’m only a man afther all, and be me sowl I have a stummick.”
“And that ‘stummick’ is hungry?”
“It is that.”
“Well, I don’t mind confessing that I am in the same condition,” said Frank. “I could eat a horse, shoes and all.”
“Unless the animal was a sthame horse,” said Barney, with a grin.
“Exactly,” said Frank. “See yonder, there’s a little grove. We’ll stop there, cool off all my wheels, attend to everything, so as to have the concern in the best traveling order, and get away with a square meal. I guess by the look of the place that we shall find a little spring of beautiful fresh water bubbling up there.”
“Arrah, and it’s meself that loikes beautiful fresh wather,” said Barney; “that is, wid the whisky in, av coorse. Faith, it’s only haythens that would think o’ drinkin’ beautiful fresh wather widout a wee shmall dhrop o’ poteen to flavor wid.”
In a few moments they were at the grove, a beautiful shady little spot of about a half acre in extent, furnished with several tall trees, a lot of bushes, and a bubbling clear spring.