and plump
they went into the river, where each formed his own ring, and executed
some comical "scenes in the circle," which were suddenly changed to
evolutions on the "flying cord" that Dinny Dowling threw to the
performers, which became suddenly converted into a "tight rope" as he
dragged the _voltigeurs_ out of the water; and for fear their blood
might be chilled by the accident, he gave them an enormous thrashing
with a _dry_ end of the rope, just to restore circulation; and his
exertions, had they been witnessed, would have charmed the Humane
Society.

As for the horse, his legs stuck through the bridge, as though he had
been put in a _chiroplast_, and he went playing away on the water with
considerable execution, as if he were accompanying himself in the song
which he was squealing at the top of his voice. Half the saws, hatchets,
ropes, and poles in the parish were put in requisition immediately, and
the horse's first lesson in _chiroplastic_ exercise was performed
with no other loss than some skin and a good deal of hair. Of course
Andy did not venture on taking Owny's horse home; so the miller sent him
to his owner, with an account of the accident. Andy for years kept out
of Owny na Coppal's way; and at any time that his presence was
troublesome, the inconvenienced party had only to say, "Isn't that Owny
na Coppal coming this way?" and Andy fled for his life.

When Andy grew up to be what in country parlance is called "a brave lump
of a boy," his mother thought he was old enough to do something for
himself; so she took him one day along with her to the squire's, and
waited outside the door, loitering up and down the yard behind the
house, among a crowd of beggars and great lazy dogs, that were thrusting
their heads into every iron pot that stood outside the kitchen door,
until chance might give her "a sight o' the squire afore he wint out, or
afore he wint in;" and after spending her entire day in this idle way,
at last the squire made his appearance, and Judy presented her son, who
kept scraping his foot, and pulling his forelock, that stuck out like a
piece of ragged thatch from his forehead, making his obeisance to the
squire, while his mother was sounding his praises for being the
"handiest craythur alive--and so willin'--nothin' comes wrong to him."

[Illustration: Andy's introduction to the Squire]

"I suppose the English of all this is, you want me to take him?" said
the squire.

"Throth, an' your