“There's nothing like looking your part,” said Dick.
“Well, I may as well complete my attire,” said Murtough, so he lay down in the road and took a roll in the mud; “that will do,” said he; “and now, Dick, go back to Barny and the mountain dew, while I storm the camp of the Philistines. I think in a couple of hours you may be on the look-out for me; I'll signal you from the window, so now good bye;” and Murphy, leading the mare, proceeded to the inn, while Dick, with a parting “Luck to you, my boy,” turned back to the cottage of Barny.
The coach had set down six inside and ten out passengers (all voters) about ten minutes before Murphy marched up to the inn door, leading the black mare, and calling “ostler” most lustily. His call being answered for “the beast,” “the man” next demanded attention; and the landlord wondered all the wonders he could cram into a short speech, at seeing Misther Murphy, sure, at such a time; and the sonsy landlady, too, was all lamentations for his illigant coat and his poor eye, sure, all ruined with the mud:—and what was it at all? an upset, was it? oh, wirra! and wasn't it lucky he wasn't killed, and they without a spare bed to lay him out dacent if he was—sure, wouldn't it be horrid for his body to be only on sthraw in the barn, instead of the best feather-bed in the house; and, indeed, he'd be welcome to it, only the gintlemen from town had them all engaged.
“Well, dead or alive, I must stay here to-night, Mrs. Kelly, at all events.”
“And what will you do for a bed?”
“A shake down in the parlour, or a stretch on a sofa, will do; my gig is stuck fast in a ditch—my mare tired—ten miles from home—cold night, and my knee hurt.” Murphy limped as he spoke.
“Oh! your poor knee,” said Mrs. Kelly; “I'll put a dhrop o' whisky and brown paper on it, sure—”
“And what gentlemen are these, Mrs. Kelly, who have so filled your house?”
“Gintlemen that came by the coach a while agone, and supping in the parlour now, sure.”
“Would you give my compliments, and ask would they allow me, under the present peculiar circumstances, to join them? and in the meantime, send somebody down the road to take the cushions out of my gig; for there is no use in attempting to get the gig out till morning.”