"Blow, I tell you!"
"The trumpet is choked, sir."
"There will be a trumpeter choked, soon," said O'Grady, gripping him by the neck-handkerchief, with his knuckles ready to twist into his throat. "By this and that I'll strangle you, if you don't play this minute, you humbugger."
"By the Blessed Virgin, I'm not humbiggin' your honour," stammered the trumpeter with the little breath O'Grady left him.
Scatterbrain, seeing O'Grady's fury, and fearful of its consequences, had alighted from the carriage and came to the rescue, suggesting to the infuriated Squire that what the man said might be true. O'Grady said he knew better, that the blackguard was a notorious joker, and having indulged in a jest in the first instance, was now only lying to save himself from punishment; furthermore, swearing that if he did not play that minute he'd throw him into the ditch.
With great difficulty O'Grady was prevailed upon to give up the gripe of the trumpeter's throat; and the poor breathless wretch, handing the instrument to the clarionet-player, appealed to him if it were possible to play on it. The clarionet-player said he could not tell, for he did not understand the trumpet.
"You see there!" cried O'Grady. "You see he's humbugging, and the clarionet-player is an honest man."
"An honest man!" exclaimed the trumpeter, turning fiercely on the clarionet-player. "He's the biggest villain unhanged for sthrivin' to get me murthered, and refusin' the evidence for me!" The man's eyes flashed fury as he spoke, and throwing his trumpet down, "Mooney!—by jakers, you're no man!" Clenching his fist as he spoke, he made a rush on the clarionet-player, and planted a hit on his mouth with such vigour, that he rolled in the dust; and when he rose, it was with such an upper lip that his clarionet-playing was evidently finished for the next week certainly.
Now the fifer was the clarionet-player's brother; and he, turning on the trumpeter, roared—
"Bad luck to you!—you did not sthrek him fair!"