. Legends and stories of Ireland . swingin boord to it, that the dogsmight go in or out, accordin as it plazed them ; andby dad, the fox came in, as I tould you, through the-hole in the door, as bould as a ram, and walked overto the fire, and sat down forninst it. Now, it was mighty provokin that all the dogswas out—they wor rovin about the wood, you see,lookin for to ketch rabbits to ate, or some other mis-chief, and it so happened that there wasnt as muchas one individyial dog in the place; and by gor, Illgo bail the fox knew that right well, before he puthis nose inside the rangers lodge. ^
. Legends and stories of Ireland . swingin boord to it, that the dogsmight go in or out, accordin as it plazed them ; andby dad, the fox came in, as I tould you, through the-hole in the door, as bould as a ram, and walked overto the fire, and sat down forninst it. Now, it was mighty provokin that all the dogswas out—they wor rovin about the wood, you see,lookin for to ketch rabbits to ate, or some other mis-chief, and it so happened that there wasnt as muchas one individyial dog in the place; and by gor, Illgo bail the fox knew that right well, before he puthis nose inside the rangers lodge. ^ Well, the ranger was in hopes some o the dogsid come home and ketch the chap, and he was loathto stir hand or fut himself, afeard o freghtenin awaythe fox ; but, by gor, he could hardly keep his tempecat all, at all, whin he seen the fox take his pipe afFo the hob, where he left it afore he wint to bed, andputtin the bowl o the pipe into the fire to kindle it—(its as thrue as Im here)—he began-to smoke for- PADDY THE SPORT. PADDY THE SPORT. 199 ninst the fire, as nathral as any other man you everseen. ^ *■ Musha, bad luck to your impidince, you longtailed blackguard, says the ranger, and is it smok-in my pipe you are ? Oh thin, by this and by that,if,I had my gun convaynient to me, its fire andsmoke of another sort, and what you wouldnt bar-gain for, Id give you, says he. But still he wasloath to stir, hopin the dogs id come home; and bygor, my fine fellow, says he to the fox, if one o thedogs comes home, saltpethre wouldnt save you, andthats a sthrong pickle. So, with that, he watched antil the fox wasntmhidin him, but was busy shakin the cindhers outo the pipe, whin he was done wid it, and so theranger thought he was goin to go immediantly afthergettin an air o the fire and a shaugh o the pipe ;and so says he, faiks, my lad, I wont let you goso aisy as all that, as cunnin as you think yourself;and with that, he made a dart out o bed, and runover to the door, and got
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