“Well! toss your bull yourself, and let me have your hog.”
“I won't do that, either; for I couldn't risk my money.”
“What! do you suspect me?”
“Far from it; but, as there's grass here, we might lose it, you know.”
“But I'll be responsible; and you can't doubt my honour.”
“Not a bit; but—what's as bad,—I doubt your means. If I lost my bull, and you couldn't give me another if you would, that's the same thing to me as if you wouldn't give me another if you could,—don't you see?”
“Well, I've another plan: and I think it must plaze you:—did you ever throw a summerset?”
“I tried once, but didn't succeed.”
“That's just my own case; so we're even, and it don't matter which does it. Now hark to this, Thady; you'll throw your summerset as well as you can, and while you're throwing it. I'll cry 'head' or 'tail,' just which I like: if I say 'tail,' and you I'll on your head, it's you that wins.”
“No, Michael; you must toss yourself; for I've no tail to my coat, and you have.”