Ravenshoe. By Henry Kingsley.

78 RAVENSHOE..
"But the falcon grew old,
And the nest it grew cold,
And the carrion birds they grew bolder;
So the jackdaws and crows,
Underneath his own nose,'Gave both the young falcons cold shoulder.'"
" Bedad," said the good-natured Irishman, "some one got hot
shoulder to-day. Are n't ye ashamed of yourself, singing such
ribaldry, and all the servants hearing ye? "
"Capital song, Father; only one verse more."
"The elder was quelled,
But the younger rebelled;
So he spread his wide wings and fled over the sea.
Said the jackdaws and crows,' He'11 be hanged, I suppose,
But what in the deuce does that matter to we?'"
There was something in the wild, bitter tone in which he sang
the last verse that made Father Tiernay smoke his cigar in
silence, as they sauntered across the yard, till Charles began
again.
" Not a word of applause for my poor impromptu song? -Hang
it, I'd have applauded anything you sang."
" Don't be so reckless and bitter, Mr. Ravenshoe," said Tiernay,
laying his hand on his shoulder. "I can feel for you, though
there is so little in common between us. You might lead a happy,
peaceful life if you were to come over to us; which you will do,
if I know anything of my trade, in the same day that the sun
turns pea-green. Allons, as we used to say over the water; let
us continue our travels."
"' Reckless! I am not reckless. The jolly old world is very
wide, and I am young and strong. There will be a wrench when
the tooth comes out; but it will soon be over, and the toothache
will be cured."
Tiernay remained silent a moment, and then, in an absent
manner, sang this line, in a sweet, low voice: —
" For the girl of my heart that I'11 never see more."
"She must cast in her lot with me," said Charles. " Ay, and
she will do it, too. She will follow me to the world's end, sir.
Are you a judge of horses? What a question to ask of an
Irishman! Here are the stables."
The lads were bedding down, and all the great building was
alive with the clattering of busy feet and the neighing of horses.
The great Ravenshoe stud was being tucked up for the night;
and over that two thousand pounds' worth of horse-flesh at least
six thousand pounds' worth of fuss was being made, under the
superintendence of the stud-groom, MIr. Dickson.