Page:History of the yellow dwarf.pdf/21

21 "And what’ll we do when she’s gone?” says Mick, sorrowfully.

“Never a know I knew, Mick; but sure God won’t lave us without him, Mick; and you know how good he has been to us many a time when our backs have been sore enough at thothe [sic] wall.”—“Och! you are always that way, Molly, and I believe you are right after all, so I won't be sorry for selling the cow.”

Mick drove his cow slowly along the road, and through the stream which crosses it, under the old walls of Mourne.

After six long miles he camocame [sic] to the top of a hill— Bottle-hill ’tis called now, but that was not the namoname [sic] of it then, and just there a man overtook him. “Good morrow,” says he. “Good morrow, kindly,” says Mick, looking at the stranger, who was a little man,—you’d almost call him a dwarf.

“Where are you going with the cow, honest man?”

“To the fair of Cork, then,” answered Mick, trembling at his shrill and piercing voice.

“AroAre [sic] you going to sell her?" said he.

“Why then, what else am I going for?”

“Will you sell her to me?”

Mick started—he was afraid to have anything to do with him, and more afraid to say no.

“What’ll you give for her?” at last says Mick.

“I’ll tell you what, I’ll give you this bottle,” said the little one, pulling it out.

Mick, in spite of his terror, could not help laughing.

“Laugh if you will,” said the little man, “but I tell you this bottle is better than all the money you will get for thothe [sic] cow in Cork.”

Mick laughed again. “Why then,” says he, “do you think I am such a fool as to give my good cow for a bottle—and an empty one too? indeed, then, I won’t.”

“You had better give me the cow, and take thothe [sic] bottle—you’ll not be sorry for it.”

“Why, then, and what would Molly say? I’d never hear thothe [sic] end of it; and how would I pay thothe [sic] rint?”

“I tell you this bottlobottle [sic] is better to you than money; take it, and give me the cow. I ask you for the last time, Mick Purcell.”

Mick started.