the hay and the straw?” 61

61

“I’ve been gettin’ some from Faulkner of Arranakilty, sor, and some from Doyle of Bally-brack.”

“Don’t you grow any horse food on the estate?”

“We don’t grow no corn, sor.”

“Well, hay and straw?”

“You can’t get straw, sor, widout you grow corn.”

“I know that—but how about hay—surely you grow lots of grass?”

“We graze the grass, sor.”

“Do you let the grazing?”

“Well, sor, it’s this way; the masther was never very shtrict about the grazin’; we puts some of the horses out to grass, ourselves, and we lets poor folk have a bit of grazin’ now and then for their cattle, though master was never after makin’ money from the estate—”

“Just so. Have you the receipted bills for the fodder during the last six months?”

“Yes, sor. The master always sent me wid the money to pay the bills.”

“You have got the receipts?”

“The which, sor?”

“The bills receipted.”

“Bills, sure, what’s the good of keepin’ bills, sor, when the money’s paid. I b’lave they’re somewhere in an ould crock in the stable, at laste that’s where I saw thim last.”

“Well,” said Pinckney, “you can fetch them for me to-morrow morning, and now let’s talk about the garden.”

Rafferty, not knowing what Pinckney might discover 62 and so being unable to lie with confidence, had a very bad quarter of an hour over the garden.

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