by in this happy state of ignorance, named Owen
Doyle, or, as he was familiarly called, _Owny na Coppal_, or, "Owen of
the Horses," because he bred many of these animals, and sold them at the
neighbouring fairs; and Andy one day offered his services to Owny when
he was in want of some one to drive up a horse to his house from a
distant "bottom," as low grounds by a river-side are called in Ireland.

"Oh, he's wild, Andy, and you'd never be able to ketch him," said Owny.

"Troth, an' I'll engage I'll ketch him if you'll let me go. I never
seen the horse I couldn't ketch, sir," said Andy.

"Why, you little spridhogue, if he took to runnin' over the long bottom,
it 'ud be more than a day's work for you to folly him."

"Oh, but he won't run."

"Why won't he run?"

"Bekaze I won't make him run."

"How can you help it?"

"I'll soother him."

"Well, you're a willin' brat, anyhow; and so go on, and God speed you!"
said Owny.

"Just gi' me a wisp o' hay an' a han'ful iv oats," said Andy, "if I
should have to coax him."

"Sartinly," said Owny, who entered the stable and came forth with the
articles required by Andy, and a halter for the horse also.

"Now, take care," said Owny, "that you are able to ride that horse if
you get on him."

"Oh, never fear, sir. I can ride owld Lanty Gubbins' mule betther nor
any o' the boys on the common, and he couldn't throw me th' other day,
though he kicked the shoes av him."

"After that you may ride anything," said Owny; and indeed it was true;
for Lanty's mule, which fed on the common, being ridden slily by all
the young vagabonds in the neighbourhood, had become such an adept in
the art of getting rid of his troublesome customers that it might well
be considered a feat to stick on him.

"Now take great care of him, Andy, my boy," said the farmer.

"Don't be afeared, sir," said Andy, who started on his errand in that
peculiar pace which is elegantly called a "sweep's trot;" and as the
river lay between Owny Doyle's and the bottom, and was too deep for
Andy to ford at that season, he went round by Dinny Dowling's mill,
where a small wooden bridge crossed the stream.

Here he thought he might as well secure the assistance of Paudeen, the
miller's son, to help him in catching the horse; so he looked about the
place until he found him, and telling him the errand on which he was
going, said, "If you like to come wid me, we can both have a ride."
This was temptation sufficient