ANDY COTTER. IJ 



lore, such as a recognition of the better known 

 constellations. There was not much of the 

 Chaldean shepherd in Andy, but he had ac- 

 quired his taste for star learning through a 

 hedge schoolmaster, whose academy was cal- 

 culated for studies in the open, and who held 

 a night class for those who had not the leisure 

 to take instructions from him during the day. 

 As we trudged homewards, Andy suddenly 

 halted to call attention to the whistle of duck* 

 and proposes a return for half an hour or so to 

 Murphy's Bog on chance of a shot. This 

 proposition is by no means cheerfully received. 

 Mrs. Cotter has placed a candle in the window 

 of Monarrogue cabin, and as the kindly taper 

 shines a welcome from the black bulk of the 

 hill, the notion of a retrograde march to 

 Murphy's Bog mayhap to catch the ague, or 

 behold the ghostly warriors stalking their ap- 

 pointed vigil does not recommend itself to 

 the exhausted and hungry sportsman. At 

 Monarrogue the fowler has his car in waiting 

 and ready to convey him from the bleak 

 wilderness, after a farewell from Andy and his 

 partner, and a wish expressed from the former 



