"It was true enough as he said, for I found the stone every minute
going from under me. I had no choice; so thinks I to myself, faint
heart never won fair lady, and this is fair persuadance. 'I thank your
honour,' says I, 'for the loan of your civility; and I'll take your
kind offer.' I therefore mounted upon the back of the eagle, and held
him tight enough by the throat, and up he flew in the air like a lark.
Little I knew the trick he was going to serve me. Up--up--up, God
knows how far up he flew. 'Why then,' said I to him--thinking he did
not know the right road home--very civilly, because why? I was in his
power entirely; 'sir,' says I, 'please your honour's glory, and with
humble submission to your better judgment, if you'd fly down a bit,
you're now just over my cabin, and I could be put down there, and many
thanks to your worship.'
"'_Arrah_, Dan,' said he, 'do you think me a fool? Look down in the next
field, and don't you see two men and a gun? By my word it would be no
joke to be shot this way, to oblige a drunken blackguard that I picked
up off of a _could_ stone in a bog.' 'Bother you,' said I to myself, but
I did not speak out, for where was the use? Well, sir, up he kept,
flying, flying, and I asking him every minute to fly down, and all to no
use. 'Where in the world are you going, sir?' says I to him. 'Hold your
tongue, Dan,' says he: 'mind your own business, and don't be interfering
with the business of other people.' 'Faith, this is my business, I
think,' says I. 'Be quiet, Dan,' says he: so I said no more.
"At last where should we come to, but to the moon itself. Now you can't
see it from this, but there is, or there was in my time, a reaping-hook
sticking out of the side of the moon, this way (drawing the figure thus
[Illustration] on the ground with the end of his stick).
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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