He had not gone, however, within two miles of the mountains, when he met Mogue on His way home, carrying M'Carthy's, or rather John Purcel's double gun, and other shooting gear.
"Why, Mogue," said he, "how does this come?
Where's Mr.M'Carthy from you ?" "Oh! that I may never sin--but sure I know I will--for I'm a great sinner--God forgive me!--but anyhow, that I may never sin, if I'm worth the washin'! Oh! Jerry, darlin', sick a killin' day as we had I never passed, an' I'm well accustomed to the mountains.

Sure, now, Jerry, if you have one spunk of common charity in your composition, you'll take me up on your back and carry me home, otherwise I'll lie down on the road, and either die at wanst or sleep it out till mornin'." "But that's not tellin' me where you left Mr.M'Carthy," replied Jerry, whose apprehensions were not at all lessened by this indirect and circuitous answer.

"Where is he, and what has become of him ?" "Of all the mists that ever riz out o' the airth, or fell from the blessed heavens above as--glory be to the name of God! we had it on the mountains this whole day.

Why, now, Jerry, a happy death to me, but you might cut it with a knife, at the very least, an' how we got through it, I'm sure, barrin' the Providence of God, I dunna.

But indeed we're far from bein' worthy of the care He takes of us." While speaking, he had, as an illustration of his fatigue, taken his seat upon the grassy ditch, which bounded in the road, and altogether enacted the part of a man completely broken down by over-exertion.
"But, Mogue, my pious creature, you're not tellin' us where you left--" "Why, then, salvation to you, for one Jerry, do you think it's ait him I did?
Sound asleep in Frank Finnerty's I left him, where he'll be well taken care of.