"
Their bodies were refreshed and spirits hopeful in proportion. They did
not converse much; seemed to be taken up with noting the country, as
though comparing it with some memoranda retained in recollection only.
They were evidently strangers to that locality, for they relied for
direction upon milestones and the sign-posts that appeared at intersecting
roads. At last, when they had passed over about ten miles, they came to an
Irishman beating rock by the roadside.
The oldest of the travelers was accustomed to read the countenance, for he
was bred a lawyer, and gave up a large practice in criminal courts to join
the army. He observed a shrewdness in the Irishman's countenance that he
thought might possibly be of service; but it was a delicate matter to get
at in those times, when one might well be afraid often of the members of
one's own household.
"Good morning," he finally said.
"Good morning to ye," the Irishman responded without raising his eyes from
his rock pile.
"Have you heard the news?" was next asked.
"Faith, an' so much of it flies here and there, if a mon lets all of it
roost, 'twill stale his pace of mind like the thaving crows stale his
corn.
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