"Indeed!"

"Nothing of the kind; I only came--to be away from home."

"Oh! I perceive."

"You're quite out there," said my companion, misinterpreting my meaning.
"It wasn't any thing of that kind. I don't owe sixpence. I was laughed
out of Ireland--that's all, though that same is bad enough."

"Laughed out of it!"

"Just so--and little you know of Ireland if that surprises you."

After acknowledging that such an event was perfectly possible, from what
I myself had seen of that country, I obtained the following very brief
account of my companion's reasons for foreign travel:

"Well, sir," began he, "it is about four months since I brought up to
Dublin from Galway a little chesnut mare, with cropped ears and a short
tail, square-jointed, and rather low--just what you'd call a smart hack
for going to cover with--a lively thing on the road with a light weight.
Nobody ever suspected that she was a clean bred thing--own sister to
Jenny, that won the Corinthians, and ran second to Giles for the
Riddlesworth--but so she was, and a better bred mare never leaped the
pound in Ballinasloe. Well, I brought her to Dublin, and used to ride
her out two or three times a week, making little matches sometimes to
trot--and, for a thorough bred, she was a clipper at trotting--to trot
a mile or so on the grass--another day to gallop the length of the nine