in order to be enjoyed. The neighbors, men, women, and children, ran
out to be spectators; the laborers suspended their work to enjoy it,
assembling on such eminences as commanded a full view of the pursuit.

"Bravo, boys--success, masther; lie into him--where's your huntin' horn,
Mr. Kavanagh?--he'll bate yez if ye don't take the wind of him.
Well done, Callaghan, keep up yer heart, yer sowl, and you'll do it
asy--you're gaining' on them, _ma bouchal_--the masther's down, you
gallows clip, an' there's none but the scholars afther ye--he's safe."

"Not he; I'll hould a naggin, the poor scholar has him; don't you see,
he's close at his heels?"

"_Done_, by my song--they'll never come up wid him; listen to their
leather crackers and cord-a-roys, as their knees bang agin one another.
Hark forrit, boy's; hark forrit! huz-zaw, you thieves, huzzaw!"

"Your beagles is well winded, Mr. Kava-nagh, and gives good tongue."

"Well, masther, you had your chase for nothin', I see."

"Mr. Kavanagh," another would observe, "I didn't think you war so
stiff in the hams, as to let the gorsoon bate you that way--your wind's
failin', sir."

The schoolmaster was abroad then, and never was the "march of
intellect" at once so rapid and unsuccessful.

During the summer season, it was the usual practice for the scholars
to transfer their paper, slates, and books to the green which lay