"Did you kill any more dogs lately, Andy?"
"Faith, you're too hard on me, sir: sure I never killed but one dog, and that was an accident——"
"An accident!—D—n your impudence, you thief! Do you think, if you killed one of the pack on purpose, we wouldn't cut the very heart out o' you with our hunting-whips?"
"Faith, I wouldn't doubt you, sir: but, sure, how could I help that divil of a mare runnin' away wid me, and thramplin' the dogs?"
"Why didn't you hold her, you thief?"
"Hould her, indeed!—you just might as well expect to stop fire among flax as that one."
"Well, be off with you now, Andy, and take care of what I gave you for the squire."
"Oh, never fear, sir," said Andy, as he turned his horse's head homeward. He stopped at the apothecary's in the village to execute his commission for "misthis." On telling the son of Galen that he wanted some physic "for one o' the childre up at the big house," the dispenser of the healing art asked what physic he wanted.
"Faith, I dunna what physic."
"What's the matter with the child?"