“O, anybody will tell you; inquire for ould Sol Donnel, the yarrib man, and you'll soon find me out.”
“But 'suppose I shouldn't wish it to be known that I called on you?”
“Eh?” said the old villain, giving him another significant grin that once more projected the fang; “well, maybe you wouldn't. If you want my sarvices then, come to the cottage that's built agin the church-yard wall, on the north side; and if you don't wish to be seen, why you can come about midnight, when every one's asleep.”
“What's this you say your name is?”
“Sol Donnel.”
“What do you mean by Sol?”
He turned up his red eyes in astonishment, and exclaimed:
“Well, now, to think that, a larned man as you must be shouldn't know what Sol means! Well, the ignorance of you great people is unknown. Don't you know—but you don't—oughn't you know, then, that Sol means Solomon, who was the wisest many and the biggest blaggard that ever lived! Faith, if I had lived in his day he'd be a poor customer to me, bekaise he had no shame in him; but indeed, the doin's that goes on now in holes and corners among ourselves was no shame in his time. That's a fine bay horse you ride; would you like to have him dappled? A dappled bay, you know, is always a great beauty.”
“And could you dapple him?
“Ay, as sure as you ride him.”