and they see'd he warn't the man
to handle 'old Bull-Dog.' I used to call my rifle Bull-Dog, cause she
always bit afore she barked.

"Pat threw one foot out astarn, like a skullin' oar, and then bent
forrards like a hoop, and fetched the rifle slowly up to the line, and
shot to the right eye. Chee, chee, chee, went the squirrel. He see'd it
was wrong. 'By the powers!' sais Pat, 'this is a left-handed boot,' and
he brought the gun to the other shoulder, and then shot to his left eye.
'Fegs!' sais Pat, 'this gun was made for a squint eye, for I can't get
a right strait sight of the critter, either side.' So I fixt it for him
and told him which eye to sight by. 'An excellent gun entirely,' sais
Pat, 'but it tante made like the rifles we have.'

"Ain't they strange critters, them Irish, Squire? That feller never
handled a rifle afore in all his born days; but unless it was to a
priest, he wouldn't confess that much for the world. They are as bad as
the English that way; they always pretend they know every thing.

"'Come, Pat,' sais I, 'blaze away now.' Back goes the hind leg agin, up
bends the back, and Bull-Dog rises slowly to his shoulder; and then he
stared, and stared, until his arm shook like palsy. Chee, chee, chee,
went the squirrel agin, louder than ever, as much as to say, 'Why the
plague don't you fire? I'm not a goin' to stand here all day, for you
this way,' and then throwin' his tail over his back, he jumped on to the
next branch.

"'By the piper that played before Moses!' sais Pat, 'I'll stop your
chee, chee, cheein' for you, you chatterin' spalpeen of a devil, you'.
So he ups with the rifle agin, takes a fair aim at him, shuts both eyes,
turns his head round, and fires; and "Bull-Dog," findin' he didn't know
how to hold her tight to the shoulder, got mad, and kicked him head over
heels, on the broad of his back. Pat got up, a makin' awful wry faces,
and began to limp, to show how lame his shoulder was, and to rub his
arm, to see if he had one left, and the squirrel ran about the tree
hoppin' mad, hollerin' out as loud as it could scream, chee, chee, chee.

"'Oh bad luck to you,' sais Pat, 'if you had a been at t'other eend of
the gun,' and he rubbed his shoulder agin, and cried like a baby, 'you
wouldn't have said chee, chee, chee, that way, I know.'

"Now when your gun, Squire, was a knockin' over Blue-nose, and makin' a
proper fool of him, and a knockin' over Jonathan, and a spilin' of his
bran-new cl