The child could not refrain from giggling, miserable as she evidently was, at the scene; and Darby looked alternately at her and his leg, when he withdrew it from the pot again, in so droll a manner, that the little girl burst into a fit of laughter, which the Irishman, very good-naturedly, subdued, or rather, smothered with kisses.
“Well, my pretty little maid!” said he; “and where have you come from, agrah! eh?”
“Oh! a long—long way; it's farther than I thought it was when I began.”
“And what do you want at the revel?”
“I mustn't tell you.”
“Eh, then! why not, eh?”
“If I was to tell you why I mustn't, you'd know what I wanted at the revel.”
“And where's your stockings and shoes? Have you put them in your pocket, as the girls do in Ireland?”
“No, indeed;—I wore them out yesterday.”
“And how far have you walked barefoot?”