Plymouth advertiser. [volume] (Plymouth, Ohio) 1853-1988, 1854-08-12


swallowed sogor's ramrod, 'tisn't
slraighter I'd ha' been
! And the result was, that, not approx.
ing of the widows discipline, you ran
away and lef, her 2
Sure. sir, twas aisier done nor that.
Her first husband, betlher luck to him 1
say, saved me the thIouble o that
Her first husband What, had she
another husband living q
oh yis one Michael Conolly, a say
farm man, that was reported dead but
he came back one day, an resthored
him his wife and chi!der. Oh, but twas
proud man | was to be free again
( With these explanations our converse,
ton for the time terminated but, some
days afterwards, colt, of no great value,
looking rather sluggish and heavy, |
! h h,ught | would test MasIe. Peters USE
fuineSs about the stables, as sent for him
10 the house, Peter, said |, do you think
could trust you to give the black flly a
warm mash this evening! As he stared
at me for minute or two without reply
ing, repe ated the question,
is it mash, sir?' said he. :Sure I'd
like to be plasin' yer honor, any way, an
that's no lie.'
'As he spoke, however, fancied | saw
a strange sort Of puzzled expression fit
across his face but taking it for granted
he knew what meant, paid no fur,he.
attention to il. The conversation whic
followed Immediately after, by one of
those singular coircidences which SO fre.
quently happen in life, turning upon The
subject Of horses, tended still more to i'm
press me with that belief. Now don't
laugh, Urban for, though perceive by
your quizzicaI look tina, you are acquaint.
ed with my Irish friend, even you cannot
possibly have any conception Of the man
ner in which the affair terminated.'
In some egregious blunder, Sanley.
III bo bound But pray, proceed with
your narrative.'
peter stood for some time crushing his
hat uneasily between his bands, and occa.
sonaIly shifting the weight Of his guuut
person from one foot to another, until |
began to entertain faint suspicion that
perhaps he had not exactly understood me
after all SO SAID to him. "A warm
bran mash for the black flly; you will
no, forget it. hope, Malro ney?
Och, It's an Elegant mimory hev, >
said he, AN nlver word dhrops from
yer honor's lip but I'll be bound to houd
it as fast as the lobster did Neal NJ
Gowk.'
How was that, Peter ? said l.
'Bedad, sir, but tits quare sthory,'
said he, bursting out into one Of his rich
laughs. you see, sir, there wasn't q
handler boy in the mauher of horse flesh
in al the county Of Galway than Neal
MGowk. Ayeh but twas he that had
the keen eye for bit of the raal blood
An SO the rich genthry all the country
round pathronized him, and called him
Misther NGowk, an trated him to bit
an a sup; and maybe they sometimes
crossed his hands wild silver and goold
besides. Deed, sir, twas mighty atfec-
donate they wor wild him. Twas al
ways 'Ihe top o. the mornin' to ye,
Misther Neal or 'Tis glad | am to see
ye, Mister M'Gowk ~ For they enther-
lained respect for his scieniifcal acquire
ments in the matther of horses that was
beutiiul to see. Whiniver they wanted
to buy splendid hunther, or span OF
fine horses for my lady, OR pony about
the size of q month-ould calf for the
chiIder, who but Neal M'Gowk must
ride wild them to the fairs, an the mar.
kes, an discoorse upon the qualities of
the bastes? By a mysterious gift he
could tell their ages, too
THAT is not at all difficult, said I, q
little contemptuously. ANY fool can tell
that by looking at their teeth
'Tis of Irish horses am spakin yeI
honor responded Peter. with an air Of
the utmost simplicity. s..s "
Il know of no difference between Irish
and American horses in that respect,
said | laughing. .........
'Oh, but did ever hear the likes O.
that = exclaimed Peter. Sure it doesn't
become poor boy to impache your hon
or's larnin'; but'--here he cast queer,
sidelo1g glance at me from under his half
closed .lids--'there isn't an ould maid
wild all her silks, an her satins, an hel
bright, sparklin' jewels, that does be more
fractious about havin' her age tould than
an Irish horse s"
1t was almost impossible to resist this
but managed to restrain my disposition
to burst out in hearty roar. and merely
said, "Poh Poh! Have.done with your
nonsense, Mulrooney, and 60 on with
your story" .. a...
"Sure enough twas by the teeth, sir
that he tould the age of horse for why
would be teliin' yer honor lie about ii
But twas only the coaxin' way he hat
that pu the comether on the jealous baste
and persuaded il TO open its mouth"
"Ah. know; you Irish are fam ,u'
for barney"
"Deed, sir, that's true, any way" sait
Peter. "Well, Neal was but a poo
cray,her, after all for, by rason OF tn,
oapt ru collNnu;po xp;d hin, ho hac,n ..