"So are ours, and I could afford silk still less than you could; but my men presented me with these sleeves and this cap, and I shall wear them."
"Of course, of course, Lennon. But I cannot say much for the color; blue would have looked much better; and, perhaps, have been more appropriate."
"I left that for the girls to wear in their bonnets," replied Lennon, sarcastically. He knew that Winny Cavana's holiday bonnet was trimmed with blue, and thought it not unlikely that Murdock knew it also.
They then shook hands, but it was more formal than cordial; and Murdock took a half-crown from his pocket. He was determined to be down on Emon-a-knock's poverty, for a penny would have done as well; and he said, "Shall I call, or will you?"
"The challenger generally 'skies,' and the other calls," he replied.
"Here then!" said Murdock, standing out into a clear spot, and curling the half-crown into the air, eighteen or twenty feet above their heads.
"Head," cried Lennon; and head it was.
It was the usual method on such occasions for the leader who won the toss to throw the ball with all his force as high into the air as possible, and, as a matter of course, as far toward his opponent's goal as he could. The height into the air was as a token to his friends to cheer, and the direction toward his opponent's goal was considered the great advantage of having won the toss.
This was, however, the first occasion in the annals of hurling where this latter point had been questioned. Emon-a-knock and Phil M'Dermott were both experienced hurlers; and previous to their having taken the high bank in such style, from the field outside the common, they had stepped aside from their men, and discussed the matter thus:
"Phil, I hope we'll win the toss," said Emon.