Phaeton, who appeared to be thinking deeply, only smiled, and said nothing. At last he exclaimed:
"I have it, Patsy! Come with me."
They went off together, and Phaeton hunted up an old boot, the leg of which he drove full of shingle-nails, driving them from the inside outward. Then he filled it with stones and sand, and sewed the top together. Then he found a piece of rope, and tied one end to the straps.
"There, Patsy," said he, "tie the other end of the rope to one of the hooks on the car, and take the boot in with you. When you are going fast enough, throw it out for a drag. I don't believe a streak of lightning could make very good headway, if it had to pull that thing along on the ground after it."
Patsy, Berny, and Lukey tried it, but were thrown into the brook as before. Phaeton said the true remedy was, more old boots; and they added one after another, till they had a cluster of seven, which acted as an effectual drag, and completely tamed the spirit of the machine, after which it soon became the most popular institution in Dublin. Patsy said seven was one of the lucky numbers.
To return to the printing business. When I was about to sit down at the tea-table, that evening, Mother exclaimed:
"What in the world ails your hands?"
I looked at them. Some of my fingers were more red than blue, some were more blue than red, and some about equally red and blue. I said I guessed Patsy Rafferty's visiting-cards were what ailed my hands.
"Well, I wish you'd wash your hands of Patsy Rafferty's visiting-cards," said she.
"Can't do it with any such slimpsy water as we have here," said I.