“I wouldn’t either,” said I, and I went on. Soon I was at Mr. H.’s house, which is near the road, and as I had an invitation from the hotelkeeper to attend a ball on the 22d, I thought I would call and ask Miss Annie to go to the ball with me. I met the old gentleman at the corner of the house.
“Good evening, Mr. H.,” said I.
“Good evening, Mr. S.,” said he.
“Is Miss Annie at home?”
“Is she engaged?”
“Is it engaged, ye say, sir? Faith, an’ I can’t tell ye, sir, but she kissed Mr. Maguire last evening as if she had not seen the loikes ov him, an’ it’s engaged I believed they are, sir.”
Just then there was a man going by on the road, and I said that I wanted to speak to him, and I ran through the gate, but I did not want to speak to anyone at that moment.
I came on, and at the bridge I noticed a sign, “Whoop Up.” I could not imagine what it meant. Thinking it was a menagerie, I entered. A man with a bloody nose met me at the door, and another stood in the opposite corner with a black eye, and both were panting as if exhausted.
“Who owns this place,” I asked the man with the bloody nose.