"Straight ahead."
"Och, but I'd rather the heaviest wheeling that ever was invinted, sooner nor this little slide of a place. — Here we go! — Och, stop us! — Och, but the little carriage has taken me to itself intirely. It was all I could do to run ahint and keep up wid the same. Would there be much more of the hills to go down, yer honour, the way we're going?"
"I don't know. Keep in the middle of the street."
"Sure I'm blessed if I can keep any place!" said Michael, whose movements were truly so erratic and uncertain that Winthrop's mood of thoughtfulness was more than once run down by them. — "The trunk's too weighty for me, yer honour, — it will have its own way and me after it — here we go! — Och, it wouldn't turn out if it was for an angel itself. Maybe yer honour wouldn't go ahead and stop it?"
"No chance, I'm afraid," said Winthrop, whose mouth was twitching at the trot of the Irishman's feet after the wheelbarrow.
"Och, but we'll never get down there!" he said as he paused at the top of a long slope. "Then I never knew before what a hard time the carriage has to go after the horses! We'll never get down there, yer honour?"
"Never's a great word, Michael."
"It is, sir!"
"I think you can get down there if you try."
"Very well, sir! — I suppose I will."