A word was enough--they immediately set off; and the others, not wishing
that Mat's wife should witness the mode of his conveyance, proceeded
home, for it was now dusk. The plan succeeded admirably; and in a short
time the wife and children, mounted behind the "boys" on the horses,
were on the way after them to Findramore.

The reader is already aware of the plan they had adopted for translating
Mat; but, as it was extremely original, I will explain it somewhat more
fully. The moment the schoolmaster was intoxicated to the necessary
point--that is to say, totally helpless and insensible--they opened the
sack and put him in, heels foremost, tying it in such a way about his
neck as might prevent his head from getting into it: thus avoiding the
danger of suffocation. The sack, with Mat at full length in it, was then
fixed to the pin of the straddle, so that he was in an erect posture
during the whole journey. A creel was then hung at the other side, in
which was placed a large stone, of sufficient weight to preserve an
equilibrium; and, to prevent any accident, a droll fellow sat astride
behind the straddle, amusing himself and the rest by breaking jokes upon
the novelty of Mat's situation.

"Well, Mat, _ma bouchal_, how duv ye like your sitivation? I believe,
for all your larnin', the Findramore boys have sacked you at last!"


[Illustration: PAGE 831-- The Findramore boys have sacked you at last]


"Ay!" exclaimed another, "he is sacked at last, in spite of his
Matthew-maticks."