"Did ever ye see the like of that now? Ah, ha!

'The streets were so wide,
and the lanes were so narry,
He brought his wife home
on a little wheelbarry,'"

sung a voice with an accent which made Ben drop his load and push back
his hat, to see Pat's red head looking over the fence.

To have his enemy behold him then and there was the last bitter drop
in poor Ben's cup of humiliation. A shrill approving whistle from the
hill was some comfort, however, and gave him spirit to help Bab out
with composure, though his hands were blistered and he had hardly
breath enough to issue the command:

"Go along home, and don't mind him."

"Nice childer, ye are, runnin' off this way, settin' the women
disthracted, and me wastin' me time comin' after ye when I'd be
milkin' airly so I'd get a bit of pleasure the day," grumbled Pat,
coming up to untie the Duke, whose Roman nose Ben had already
recognized, as well as the roomy chaise standing before the door.

"Did Billy tell you about us?" asked Bab, gladly following toward this
welcome refuge.

"Faith he did, and the Squire sint me to fetch ye home quiet and aisy.
When ye found me, I'd jist stopped here to borry a light for me pipe.
Up wid ye, b'y, and not be wastin' me time stramashin' afther a