"Sure, now, that is a sad misfortune," commented Mr. McSway; "and how much do ye want me to pay for the cow?"
"Oi want tin dollars, and oi want it roight now."
"Faith, you're er bit loively, Mr. O'Farrel. But didn't oi understand that yez sold the cow's hide an' tallow down ter the village? How much did yez get for the baste?"
"Yis, oi did, an' oi got tin dollars an' fifty cints for it, Mr. McSway."
"Well, then, accordin' to that, yez owe me fifty cints; so pay it roight now, if you plaze, Mr. O'Farrel."
Probably it will not astonish the reader to know that before the excited and very much muddled O'Farrel recovered himself he paid the fifty cents; but even to this day he has failed to satisfy himself whether he owed the money to McSway or not.
A LIKELY STATEMENT.
"I guess I know why they never speak of George Washington as Washington the Great," observed Polly. "It's because there wasn't never any other Washington to compare him with."