"Well, yer honor, then, for them as had money to buy, the fair was good enough; but for them as had money to get, it was as bad as them that wor afore it, and as them as is likely to come afther it." "Were the boys in it, Pat?" "They wor, yer honor, the most of 'em." "Well, Pat?" "Oh, they wor just there, that's all." "Tim Brady should have got the top price for that oats of his, Pat." "Maybe he might, Masther Thady." "What did he get? there should be twelve barrels there." "Eleven, or thereabouts, yer honor." "Did he sell it all, yesterday?" "Divil a grain, then, at all at all, he took to the fair yesterday." "Bad manners to him, and why didn't he? why he owes" (and Thady turned over the old book) "five half years this gale, and there's no use gammoning; father must get the money off the land, or Flannelly will help himself." "I knows, Masther Thady; I knows all about it. Tim has between five and six acres, and he owes twenty-two pound tin; his oats is worth, maybe, five pound fifteen,--from that to six pound, and his cow about six pound more; that's all Tim has, barring the brats and the mother of them. An' he knows right well, yer honor, if he brings you the price of the oats, you wouldn't let him off that way; for the cow should folly the oats, as is nathural; the cabin would be saized next; so Tim ses, if you choose to take the corn yourself, you can do so;--well an' good, and save him the throuble of bringin' it to Mohill." "Did the widow Reynolds sell her pig?" "She did, yer honor, for two pound tin." "And she owes seven pound. And Dan Coulahan--" "Dan didn't cut the oats, good or bad." "I'll cut it for him, then. Was ould Tierney there?" "He war, yer honor; and I was tellin' him yer honor 'id be wantin' the money this week, an' I axed him to stip up o' Friday mornin'; an', sis I, 'Misthur Tierney'--for since he made out the mare and the ould car, it's Misthur Tierney he goes by--'it's a fine saison any way for the corn,' sis I, 'the Lord be praised; an' the hay all saved on thim illigant bottoms of yours, Misthur Tierney. The masther was glad to hear the cocks was all up afore the heavy rain was come.' 'Well, Pat,' sis he, 'I'll be at Ballycloran o' Friday, plase God, but it's little I'll have with me but myself; an' if the masthur likes the corn an' the hay, he may just take them av' it's plazin' to him, for the divil a cock or grain will I sell, an' the prices so bad.'" "Obstinate ould fool! why, Pat, he must have the money." "Money, to be shure he has the money, Misthur Thady; but maybe he'd be the bigger fool if he gave it to your father." "Do the boys mane to say they won't pay the rent at all?" "They mane to say they can't; an' it's nearly thrue for them." "Was Joe Reynolds at the fair, Pat?" "He wor not; that's to say, he wor not at the fair, but I seen him in the evening, with the other boys from Drumleesh, at Mrs. Mulready's."