I suppose ye expect next year to see me throttin' around with a leather collar an' a brass tag on me neck. If me tax isn't paid th' bachelor wagon'll come over an' th' bachelor catcher'll lassoo me an' take me to th' pound an' I'll be kept there three days an' thin, if still unclaimed, I'll be dhrowned onless th' pound keeper takes a fancy to me. Ye'll niver see it, me boy. No, Sir.
'Begorrah, but it's the ould divil, hitched to his throttin 'waging, wid his ould wife howlding the reins! exclaimed Mickey, who had scarcely removed his eyes from the singular object. 'That there critter in the wagon is a man, said Hopkins, looking as intently in the same direction.