The first part of two of this story of heroism and despair in an Ireland stricken by calamities.
r, whose hurried air betrayed that they had only just risen from bed.
"You're all very late to-day," cried the young lady. "You should have been in the stables an hour ago. Where 's Brand?"
"He 's gone into the fair, miss, with a lot of hoggets," said a little old fellow with a rabbit-skin cap, and a most unmistakable groom formation about the knees and ankles.
"Look to the mare, Barny," said she, jumping off; "and remind me, if I forget it, to fine you all, for not having fed and watered before six o'clock. Yes, I 'll do it; I said so once before, and you 'll see I 'll keep my word. Is it because my uncle goes a few weeks to the seaside, that you are to neglect your duty? Hackett, I shall want to see the colts presently; go round to the straw-yard and wait till I come; and, Graft, let us have a look at the garden, for my aunt is quite provoked at the flowers you have been sending her lately."
All this was said rapidly, and in a tone that evidently was not meant to admit of reply;