was mighty well of Redmond to talk and boast of beating ushers and
farmers' boys, but to fight an Englishman was a very different
matter.

Then she fell to talk of the invasion, and of military matters in
general; of King Frederick (who was called, in those days, the
Protestant hero), of Monsieur Thurot and his fleet, of Monsieur
Conflans and his squadron, of Minorca, how it was attacked, and
where it was; we both agreed it must be in America, and hoped the
French might be soundly beaten there.

I sighed after a while (for I was beginning to melt), and said how
much I longed to be a soldier; on which Nora recurred to her
infallible 'Ah! now, would you leave me, then? But, sure, you're not
big enough for anything more than a little drummer.' To which I
replied, by swearing that a soldier I would be, and a general too.

As we were chattering in this silly way, we came to a place that has
ever since gone by the name of Redmond's Leap Bridge. It was an old
high bridge, over a stream sufficiently deep and rocky, and as the
mare Daisy with her double load was crossing this bridge, Miss Nora,
giving a loose to her imagination, and still harping on the military
theme (I would lay a wager that she was thinking of Captain Quin)--
Miss Nora said, 'Suppose now, Redmond, you, who are such a hero, was
passing over the bridge, and the inimy on the other side?'

'I'd draw my sword, and cut my way through them.'

'What, with me on the pillion? Would you kill poor me?' (This young
lady was perpetually speaking of 'poor me!')