Arthur O'Leary: His Wanderings And Ponderings In Many Lands. Charles James Lever

beside ‘Paul’ on the appointed spot, the centre of an admiring circle, who, whatever their misgivings as to his boasted skill, had only one opinion about his shapes and qualities.

      “ ‘Splendid forehand’—‘what legs’—‘look at his quarters’—‘and so deep in the heart’—were the exclamations heard on every side—till a rosy-cheeked fat little fellow growing impatient at the delay, cried out—

      “ ‘Come, Mr. O’Kelly, mount if you please, and come along.’

      “I tightened my girth—sprang into the saddle—my only care being, to keep my toes in as straight a line as I could, with my feet. Before we proceeded half a mile, I saw Tim seated on a stile, scratching his head in a very knowing manner; upon which, I rode out from the party, and looking intently at the furze cover in front, called out—

      “ ‘Keep back the dogs there—call them off—hush, not a word.’

      “The hounds were called in, the party reined back their horses, and all sat silent spectators of my movements.

      “When suddenly I touched ‘Paul’ in both flanks, down he dropped, like a parish clerk, stiff and motionless as a statue.

      “ ‘What’s that?’ cried two or three behind.

      “ ‘He’s setting, said I, in a whisper.

      “ ‘What is it, though?’ said one.

      “ ‘A hare!’ said I, and at the same instant I shouted to lay on the dogs, and tipping Paul’s ears, forward I went. Out bolted puss, and away we started across the country, I leading, and taking all before me.

      “We killed in half an hour, and found ourselves not far from the first cover; my friend Tim, being as before in advance, making the same signal as at first. The same performance was now repeated. ‘Paul’ went through his part to perfection; and notwithstanding the losses, a general cheer saluted us as we sprung to our legs, and dashed after the dogs.

      “Of course I didn’t spare him: everything now depended on my sustaining our united fame; and there was nothing too high or too wide for me, that morning.

      “ ‘What will you take for him, Mr. O’Kelly?’ was the question of each man, as he came up to the last field.

      “ ‘Would you like any further proof?’ said I. ‘Is any gentleman dissatisfied?’

      “A general ‘No’ was the answer; and again the offers were received from every quarter, while they produced the bank-notes, and settled their bets. It was no part of my game, however, to sell him; the trick might be discovered before I left the country, and if so, there wouldn’t be a whole bone remaining in my skin.

      “My refusal evidently heightened both my value and his, and I sincerely believe there was no story I could tell, on our ride back to town, which would not have met credence that morning; and, indeed, to do myself justice, I tried my popularity to its utmost.

      “By way of a short cut back, as the fair was to begin at noon, we took a different route, which led across some grass fields, and a small river. In traversing this, I unfortunately was in the middle of some miraculous anecdote, and entirely forgot my pony and his acquirements; and as he stopped to drink, without thinking of what I was doing, with the common instinct of a rider, I touched him with the spur. Scarcely had the rowel reached his side, when down he fell, sending me head foremost over his neck into the water. For a second or two the strength of the current carried me along, and it was only after a devil of a scramble I gained my legs, and reached the bank wet through, and heartily ashamed of myself.

      “ ‘Eh, O’Kelly, what the deuce was that?’ cried one of the party, as a roar of laughter broke from amongst them.

      “ ‘Ah!’ said I, mournfully,’ I wasn’t quick enough/

      “ ‘Quick enough!’ cried they. ‘Egad, I never saw anything like it. Why, man, you were shot off like an arrow.’

      “ ‘Leaped off, if you please,’ said I, with an air of an offended dignity—‘leaped off—didn’t you see it?’

      “ ‘See what?’

      “ ‘The salmon, to be sure. A twelve-pounder, as sure as my name’s O’Kelly. He “set” it.’

      “ ‘Set a salmon!’ shouted twenty voices in a breath. ‘The thing’s impossible.’

      “ ‘Would you like a bet on it?’ asked I drily.

      “ ‘No, no—damn it; no more bets; but surely——’

      “ ‘Too provoking, after all,’ muttered I, ‘to have lost so fine a fish, and get such a ducking’; and with that I mounted my barb, and, waving my hand, wished them a good-bye, and galloped into Killaloe.

      “This story I have only related, because, insignificant as it was, it became in a manner the pivot of my then fate in life. The jockey at once made me an offer of partnership in his traffic, displaying before me the numerous advantages of such a proposal. I was a disengaged man—my prospects not peculiarly brilliant—the state of my exchequer by no means encouraging the favourite nostrum of a return to cash payments, and so I acceded, and entered at once upon my new profession with all the enthusiasm I was always able to command, no matter what line of life solicited my adoption.

      “But it’s near one o’clock, and so now, Mr. O’Leary, if you’ve no objection, we’ll have a grill and a glass of Madeira, and then, if you can keep awake an hour or so longer, I’ll try and finish my adventures.”