"Why, his house is barricaded like a jail, and he has dogs enough to bait all the bulls in the country."
"No matter; just send me the blister for him, and I'll engage I'll stick it on him."
"Very well, squire; you shall have the blister as soon as it can be got ready. I'll tell you whenever you may send over to me for it, and your messenger shall have it hot and warm for him. Good-b'ye, squire."
"Good-b'ye, Murphy!—lose no time."
"In the twinkling of a bed-post. Are you going to Tom Durfy's steeple-chase?"
"I'm not sure."
"I've a bet on it. Did you see the Widow Flanagan lately? You didn'? They say Tom's pushing it strong there. The widow has money, you know, and Tom does it all for the love o' God; for you know, squire, there are two things God hates,—a coward and a poor man. Now, Tom's no coward; and, that he may be sure of the love o' God on the other score, he's making up to the widow; and, as he's a slashing fellow, she's nothing loth, and, for fear of any one cutting him out, Tom keeps as sharp a look-out after her as she does after him. He's fierce on it, and looks pistols at any one that attempts putting his comether on the widow, while she looks "as soon as you plaze," as plain as an optical lecture can enlighten the heart of man: in short, Tom's all ram's horns, and the widow all sheep's eyes. Good-b'ye, squire!" And Murtough put spurs to his horse and cantered down the avenue, singing.
Andy was sent over to Murtough Murphy's for the law process at the appointed time; and, as he had to pass through the village, Mrs. Egan desired him to call at the apothecary's for some medicine that was prescribed for one of the children.
"What'll I ax for, ma'am?"
"I'd be sorry to trust to you, Andy, for remembering. Here's the prescription; take great care of it, and Mr. M'Grane will give you something to bring back; and mind, if it's a powder, don't let it get wet as you did the sugar the other day."