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 THE LIBRARY OF THE 
 
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UNIVERSITY OF N.C. AT CHAPEL HILL 
 
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PR 429 
 
 HANDY ANDY: is 
 
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 A TALE OF IRISH LIFE. 
 
 SAMUEL LOVER, ESQ. 
 
 AUTHOR OP 
 
 RORY O'MORE," "THE GRIDIRON," "BARNY O'REIEDON," ta ire. 
 
 {TtocntB^jFour ^lustrations on J&leel. 
 
 RY THE AUTHOR 
 
 LONDON : 
 IT. G. BOHN, YORK STREET, COVENT GARDEN. 
 
 1340. 
 
CLAY, PRINTER, BREAD STREET MIL. 
 
ADDRESS. 
 
 I have been accused, in certain quarters, of giving flattering 
 portraits of my countrymen. Against this charge, I may plead 
 that, being a portrait-painter by profession, the habit of taking 
 the best view of my subject, so long prevalent in my eye, has 
 gone deeper, and influenced my mind : — and if to paint one's 
 country in its gracious aspect has been a weakness, at least, to 
 use the words of an illustrious compatriot, 
 
 " the failing leans to virtue's side." 
 
 I am disinclined, however, to believe myself an offender in this 
 particular. That I love my country dearly, I acknowledge, and 
 I am sure every Englishman will respect me the more for loving 
 mine, when he is, with justice, so proud of his — but I repeat my 
 disbelief that I overrate my own. 
 
 The present volume, I hope, will disarm any cavil from old 
 quarters on the score of national prejudice. The hero is a blun- 
 dering servant. No English or any other gentleman would like 
 him in his service ; but still he has some redeeming natural 
 traits : he is not made either a brute or a villain, yet his " twelve 
 months' character," given in the successive numbers of this 
 volume, would not get him a place upon advertisement, either 
 in " The Times" or " The Chronicle." So far am I clear of 
 the charge of national prejudice as regards the hero of the fol- 
 lowing pages. 
 
 In the subordinate personages, the reader will see two 
 " Squires" of a different type — good and bad: there are such 
 in all countries. And, as a tale cannot get on without villains, 
 
IV ADDRESS. 
 
 I have given some touches of villainy, quite sufficient to prove my 
 belief in Irish villains, though I do not wish it to be believed 
 the Irish are all villains. 
 
 I confess I have attempted a slight sketch, in one of the persons 
 represented, of a gentleman and a patriot ; — and I conceive there 
 is a strong relationship between the two. He loves the land 
 that bore him — and so did most of the great spirits recorded in 
 history. His own mental cultivation, while it yields him per- 
 sonal enjoyment, teaches him not to treat with contumely 
 inferior men. Though he has courage to protect his honour, 
 he is not deficient in conscience to feel for the consequences ; 
 and when opportunity offers the means of amende, it is embraced. 
 In a word, I wish it to be believed that, while there are knaves, 
 and fools, and villains in Ireland, as in other parts of the world, 
 honest, intelligent, and noble spirits are there as well. 
 
 I cannot conclude without offering my sincere thanks for the 
 cordial manner in which my serial offering has been received by 
 the public and noticed by the critical press, whose valuable 
 columns have been so often opened to it in quotation ; and, 
 when it is considered how large an amount of intellect is 
 employed in this particular department of literature, the highest 
 names might be proud of such recognition. 
 
 SAMUEL LOVER. 
 
 Charles Street, Berners Street.. London. 
 December \st, 18i2. 
 
NOTICE. 
 
 Kind Reader, 
 
 A few short papers, under the title of this little venture, 
 appeared, at intervals, in Bentley's Miscellany. 
 Frequent inquiries have been made 
 
 " Why Handy Andy was not continued V 
 
 and, indeed, I myself regretted the abandonment of what I thought 
 a fruitful subject for fun and whimsicality, though, from various 
 causes, needless to particularize here, the papers were discontinued ; 
 still, from time to time, recurred the question, " why Handy Andy 
 was not continued ?" and the frequency of the demand has produced 
 the supply. 
 
 Ancient custom declares "we should begin at the beginning," 
 therefore, a short reprint is unavoidable in the first number ; but, 
 Avhile fairness to the public demands this acknowledgment, justice to 
 myself requires me to state, that much revision and the introduction 
 of fresh matter has taken place, with a view to the development 
 of story and character necessary to a sustained work ; for the first 
 paper of Handy Andy was written without any intention of con- 
 tinuation, and required the amendments and additions I have men- 
 tioned. The reprint cannot affect those who have not read the 
 beginning of Andy's adventures ; and those who have, and wish to 
 know more, will, it is hoped, shim over the first number to refresh 
 their memories, and lead them well into the second. If, after all 
 this explanation, there be any who object to the partial reprint, 
 I answer, in the words of the well-known old saying, 
 
 " Sure has nt an Irishman lave to spake twice?" 
 
 Samuel Lover. 
 
Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 
 in 2012 with funding from 
 
 University of North Carolina at Chapel Hil 
 
 http://archive.org/details/handyandytaleofilove 
 
HANDY ANDY. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Andy Rooney was a fellow who had the most singularly ingenious 
 knack of doing everything the wrong way; disappointment waited on all 
 affairs in which he bore a part, and destruction was at his fingers' ends : 
 so the nickname the neighbours stuck upon him was Handy Andy, 
 and the jeering jingle pleased them. 
 
 Andy's entrance into this world was quite in character with his after 
 achievements, for he was nearly the death of his mother. She survived, 
 however, to have herself clawed almost to death while her darling babby 
 was in arms, for he would not take his nourishment from the parent 
 fount unless he had one of his little red fists twisted into his mother's 
 hair, which he dragged till he made her roar ; while he diverted the 
 pain by scratching her till the blood came, with the other. Nevertheless 
 she swore he was " the loveliest and sweetest craythur the sun ever 
 shined upon;" and when he was able to run about and wield a little 
 stick, and smash everything breakable belonging to her, she only praised 
 his precocious powers, and used to ask, " Did ever any one see a darlin' 
 of his age handle a stick so bowld as he did ?" 
 
 Andy grew up in mischief and the admiration of his mammy ; but, to 
 do him justice, he never meant harm in the course of his life, and was 
 most anxious to offer his services on all occasions to those who would 
 accept them ; but they were only the persons who had not already proved 
 Andy's peculiar powers. 
 
 There was a farmer hard by in this happy state of ignorance, named 
 Owen Doyle, or, as he was familiarly called, Owny na Coppal, or, 
 " Owen of the Horses," because he bred many of these animals, and 
 sold them at the neighbouring fairs ; and Andy one day offered his 
 services to Owny when he w r as in want of some one to drive up a horse 
 to his house from a distant " bottom," as low grounds by a river side 
 are always called in Ireland. 
 
 " Oh, he's wild, Andy, and you'd never be able to ketch him," said 
 Owny. 
 
 " Throth, an' I'll engage I'll ketch him if you'll let me go. I never 
 seen the horse I couldn't ketch, sir," said Andy. 
 
 " Why, you little spridhogue, if he took to runnin' over the long 
 bottom, it 'ud be more than a day's work for you to folly him." 
 
 b 2 
 
4 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 " Oh, but he won't run." 
 
 " Why won't he run ? " 
 
 " Bekaze I won't make him run." 
 
 " How can you help it ? " 
 
 " I'll soother him." 
 
 " Well, you're a willin' brat, anyhow ; and so go, and God speed you! 
 said Owny. 
 
 " Just gi' me a wisp o' hay an' a han'ful iv oats," said Andy, " if I 
 should have to coax him." 
 
 " Sartinly," said Owny, who entered the stable and came forth 
 with the articles required by Andy, and a halter for the horse 
 also. 
 
 " Now, take care," said Owny, " that you're able to ride that horse 
 if you get on him." 
 
 " Oh never fear, sir. I can ride owld Lanty Gubbins's mule betther 
 nor any o' the other boys on the common, and he couldn't throw me 
 th' other day, though he kicked the shoes av him." 
 
 " After that you may ride anything," said Owny : and indeed it was 
 true ; for Lanty's mule, which fed on the common, being ridden slily by 
 all the young vagabonds in the neighbourhood, had become such an 
 adept in the art of getting rid of his troublesome customers, that it might 
 be well considered a feat to stick on him. 
 
 " Now, take grate care of him, Andy, my boy," said the farmer. 
 
 " Don't be afeard, sir," said Andy, who started on his errand in that 
 peculiar pace which is elegantly called a " sweep's trot;" and as the 
 river lay between Owny Doyle's and the bottom, and was too deep for 
 Andy to ford at that season, he went round by Dinny Dowling's mill, 
 where a small wooden bridge crossed the stream. 
 
 Here he thought he might as well secure the assistance of Paudeen, 
 the miller's son, to help him in catching the horse ; so he looked about 
 the place until he found him, and, telling him the errand on which he 
 was going, said, " If you like to come wid me, we can both have a ride." 
 This was temptation sufficient for Paudeen, and the boys proceeded 
 together to the bottom, and they were not long in securing the horse. 
 When they had got the halter over his head, " Now," said Andy, " give 
 me a lift on him ;" and accordingly, by Paudeen's catching Andy's left 
 foot in both his hands clasped together in the fashion of a stirrup, he hoisted 
 his friend on the horse's back ; and, as soon as he was secure there, 
 Master Paudeen, by the aid of Andy's hand, contrived to scramble up 
 after him ; upon which Andy applied his heels to the horse's side 
 with many vigorous kicks, and crying "hurrup!" at the same time, 
 endeavoured to stimulate Owny's steed into something of a pace as he 
 turned his head towards the mill. 
 
 " Sure aren't you going to crass the river?" said Paudeen. 
 
 " No, I'm going to lave you at home." 
 
 " Oh, I'd rather go up to Owny's, and its the shortest way acrass the 
 river." 
 
 " Yes, but I don't like." 
 
 11 Is it afeard you are ?" said Paudeen. 
 
 " Not I, indeed," said Andy; though it was really the fact, for the 
 
Handy andy. 5 
 
 •width of the stream startled him ; " but Owny towld me to take grate 
 care o' the baste, and I'm loth to wet his feet." 
 
 " Go 'long wid you, you fool! what harm would it do him? Sure he's 
 neither sugar nor salt, that he'd melt." 
 
 " Well, I won't anyhow," said Andy, who by this time had got the 
 horse into a good high trot, that shook every word of argument out of 
 Paudeen's body ; besides, it was as much as the boys could do to keep 
 their seats on Owny's Bucephalus, who was not long in reaching the 
 miller's bridge. Here voice and halter were employed to pull him in, 
 that he might cross the narrow wooden structure at a quiet pace. But 
 whether his double load had given him the idea of double exertion, or 
 that the pair of legs on each side sticking into his flanks, (and perhaps 
 the horse was ticklish) made him go the faster, we know not ; but the 
 horse charged the bridge as if an Enniskilliner were on his back, and an 
 enemy before him ; and in two minutes his hoofs clattered like thunder 
 on the bridge, that did not bend beneath him. No, it did not bend, but 
 it broke ; proving the falsehood of the boast, " I may break, but I won't 
 bend ;" for, after all, the really strong may bend, and be as strong as 
 ever : it is the unsound, that has only the seeming of strength, which 
 breaks at last when it resists too long. 
 
 Surprising was the spin the young equestrians took over the ears of 
 the horse, enough to make all the artists of Astley's envious ; and plump 
 they went into the river, where each formed his own ring, and executed 
 some comical " scenes in the circle," which were suddenly changed to 
 evolutions on the " flying cord" that Dinny Dowling threw the per- 
 formers, which became suddenly converted into a " tight rope" as he 
 dragged the voltigeurs out of the w r ater ; and for fear their blood might 
 be chilled by the accident, he gave them both an enormous thrashing 
 with the dry end of the rope, just to restore circulation ; and his ex- 
 ertions, had they been witnessed, would have charmed the Humane 
 Society. 
 
 As for the horse, his legs stuck through the bridge, as though he had 
 been put in a chiroplast, and he went playing away on the water with 
 considerable execution, as if he were accompanying himself in the song 
 which he was squealing at the top o p his voice. Half the saws, hatchets, 
 ropes, and poles in the parish were put in requisition immediately ; and 
 the horse's first lesson in chir aplastic exercise was performed with no 
 other loss than some skin and a good deal of hair. Of course Andy did 
 not venture on taking Owny's horse home ; so the miller sent him to 
 his owner with an account of the accident. Andy for years kept out of 
 Owny na Coppal's way ; and at any time that his presence was trouble- 
 some, the inconvenienced party had only to say, " Isn't that Owny na 
 Coppal coming this way?" and Andy fled for his life. 
 
 When Andy grew up to be what in country parlance is called " a 
 brave lump of a boy," his mother thought he was old enough to do 
 something for himself; so she took him one day along with her to the 
 squire's, and waited outside the door, loitering up and down the yard 
 behind the house, among a crowd of beggars and great lazy dogs that 
 were thrusting their heads into every iron pot that stood outside the 
 kitchen door, until chance might give her " a sight o' the squire afore 
 
6 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 he wint out or afore he wint in ;" and, after spending her entire day in 
 this idle way, at last the squire made his appearance, and Judy presented 
 her son, who kept scraping his foot, and pulling his forelock, that stuck 
 out like a piece of ragged thatch from his forehead, making his obeisance 
 to the squire, while his mother was sounding his praises for being the 
 " handiest craythur alive — and so willin' — nothin' comes wrong to him." 
 
 " I suppose the English of all this is, you want me to take him ?" 
 said the squire. 
 
 " Throth, an' your honour, that's just it — if your honour would be 
 plazed." 
 
 "What can he do?" 
 
 " Anything, your honour." 
 
 " That means nothing, I suppose," said the squire. 
 
 " Oh, no, sir. Everything, I mane, that you would desire him to 
 do." 
 
 To every one of these assurances on his mother's part, Andy made a 
 bow and a scrape. 
 * " Can he take care of horses ?" 
 
 " The best of care, sir," said the mother ; while the miller, who was 
 standing behind the squire waiting for orders, made a grimace at Andy, 
 who was obliged to cram his face into his hat to hide the laugh, which 
 he could hardly smother from being heard, as well as seen. 
 
 " Let him come, then, and help in the stables, and we'll see what he 
 can do." 
 
 " May the Lord — " 
 
 " That'll do — there, now go." 
 
 " Oh, sure, but I'll pray for you, and — " 
 
 " Will you go ?" 
 
 " And may angels make you honour's bed this blessed night, I 
 pray ?" 
 
 " If you don't go, your son shan't come." 
 
 Judy and her hopeful boy turned to the right about in double-quick 
 time, and hurried down the avenue. 
 
 The next day Andy was duly installed into his office of stable-helper ; 
 and, as he was a good rider, he was soon made whipper-in to the hounds, 
 as there was a want of such a functionary in the establishment ;■ and 
 Andy's boldness in this capacity made him soon a favourite with the 
 squire, who was one of those rollicking boys on the pattern of the old 
 school, who scorned the attentions of a regular valet, and let any one 
 that chance threw in his way bring him his boots, or his hot water for 
 shaving, or his coat, whenever it ivas brushed. One morning, Andy, 
 who was very often the attendant on such occasions, came to his room 
 with hot water. He tapped at the door. 
 
 " Who's that ?" said the squire, who was but just risen, and did 
 not know but it might be one of the women servants. 
 
 " It's me, sir." 
 
 " Oh— Andy ! Come in." 
 
 " Here's the hot wather, sir," said Andy, bearing an enormous tin can. 
 
 " Why, what the d — 1 brings that tin can here ? You might as well 
 bring the stable-bucket." 
 
HANDY ANDY. 7 
 
 " I beg your pardon, sir," said Andy, retreating. In two minutes 
 more Andy came back, and, tapping at the door, put in his head cau- 
 tiously, and said, " the maids in the kitchen, your honour, says there's 
 not so much hot wather ready." 
 
 " Did I not see it a moment since in your hands ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir ; but that's not nigh the full o' the stable-bucket." 
 
 " Go along, you stupid thief! and get me some hot water directly." 
 
 11 Will the can do, sir ?" 
 
 " Ay, anything, so you make haste." 
 
 Off posted Andy, and back he came with the can. 
 
 " Where'll I put it, sir ?" 
 
 " Throw this out," said the squire, handing Andy a jug containing 
 some cold water, meaning the jug to be replenished with the hot. 
 
 Andy took the jug, and the window of the room being open, he very 
 deliberately threw the jug out. The squire stared with wonder, and at 
 last said, 
 
 " What did you do that for?" 
 
 " Sure you towld me to throw it out, sir." 
 
 " Go out of this, you thick-headed villain !" said the squire, throwing 
 his boots at Andy's head, along with some very neat curses. Andy re- 
 treated, and thought himself a very ill-used person. 
 
 Though Andy's regular business was " whipper-in," yet he was 
 liable to be called on for the performance of various other duties : he 
 sometimes attended at table when the number of guests required that all 
 the subs should be put in requisition, or rode on some distant errand 
 for " the mistress," or drove out the nurse and children on the jaunting- 
 car ; and many were the mistakes, delays, or accidents arising from 
 Handy Andy's interference in such matters ; — but, as they were seldom 
 serious, and generally laughable, they never cost him the loss of his 
 place, or the squire's favour, who rather enjoyed Andy's blunders. 
 
 The first time Andy was admitted into the mysteries of the dining- 
 room, great was his wonder. The butler took him in to give him some 
 previous instructions, and Andy was so lost in admiration at the sight 
 of the assembled glass and plate, that he stood with his mouth and eyes 
 wide open, and scarcely heard a word that was said to him. After the 
 head man had been dinning his instructions into him for some time, he 
 said he might go, until his attendance was required. But Andy moved 
 not ; he stood with his eyes fixed by a sort of fascination on some 
 object that seemed to rivet them with the same unaccountable influence 
 which the rattle-snake exercises over its victim. 
 
 " What are you looking at?" said the butler. 
 
 " Them things, sir," said Andy, pointing to some silver forks. 
 
 " Is it the forks ?" said the butler. 
 
 " Oh no, sir ! I know what forks is very well ; but I never seen them 
 things afore." 
 
 " What things do you mean ? " 
 
 " These things, sir," said Andy, taking up one of the silver forks, 
 and turning it round and round in his hand in utter astonishment, while 
 the butler grinned at his ignorance, and enjoyed his own superior 
 knowledge. 
 
8 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 " Well !" said Andy, after a long pause, " the divil be from me if 
 ever I seen a silver spoon split that way before!" 
 
 The butler laughed a horse-laugh, and made a standing joke of 
 Andy's split spoon ; but time and experience made Andy less impressed 
 with wonder at the show of plate and glass, and the split spoons became 
 familiar as 'household words' to him ; yet still there were things in the 
 duties of table attendance beyond Andy's comprehension, — he used to 
 .hand cold plates for fish, and hot plates for jelly, &c. But ' one 
 day,' as Zanga says, — ' one day ' he was thrown off his centre in a re- 
 markable degree by a bottle of soda-water. 
 
 It was when that combustible was first introduced into Ireland 
 as a dinner beverage that the occurrence took place, and Andy 
 had the luck to be the person to whom a gentleman applied for some 
 soda-water. 
 
 " Sir?" said Andy. 
 
 " Soda-water," said the guest, in that subdued tone in which people 
 are apt to name their wants at a dinner-table. 
 
 Andy went to the butler. " Mr. Morgan, there's a gintle- 
 man " 
 
 " Let me alone, will you ?" said Mr. Morgan. 
 
 Andy manoeuvred round him a little longer, and again essayed to be 
 heard. 
 
 " Mr. Morgan!" 
 
 " Don't you see I'm as busy as I can be ! Can't you do it yourself!" 
 
 " I dunna what he wants." 
 
 " Well, go and ax him," said Mr. Morgan. 
 
 Andy went off as he was bidden, and came behind the thirsty gentle- 
 man's chair, with " I beg your pardon, sir." 
 
 " Well !" said the gentleman. 
 
 " I beg your pardon, sir ; but what's this you ax'd me for ?" 
 
 " Soda-water." 
 
 " What, sir?" 
 
 " Soda-water : but, perhaps, you have not any." 
 
 " Oh, there's plenty in the house, sir ! Would you like it hot, sir !" 
 
 The gentleman laughed, and, supposing the new fashion was not 
 understood in the present company, said, " Never mind." 
 
 But Andy was too anxious to please, to be so satisfied, and again 
 applied to Mr. Morgan. 
 
 " Sir !" said he. 
 
 " Bad luck to you ! can't you let me alone ?" 
 
 " There's a gintleman wants some soap and wather." 
 
 " Some what ?" 
 
 " Soap and wather, sir." 
 
 " Divil sweep you ! — Soda-wather, you mane. "You'll get it under 
 the sideboard." 
 
 " Is it in the can, sir ?" 
 
 " The curse o' Crum'll on you ! — in the bottles." 
 
 " Is this it, sir ?" said Andy, producing a bottle of ale. 
 
 " No, bad cess to you ! — the little bottles." *. 
 
 " Is it the little bottles with no bottoms, sir ?" 
 
HANDY ANDY. 9 
 
 " I wish you wor in the bottom o' the say !" said Mr. Morgan, who 
 was fuming and puffing, and rubbing down his face with a napkin, as he 
 was hurrying to all quarters of the room, or, as Andy said, in praising 
 his activity, that he was " like bad luck, — everywhere." 
 " There they are !" said Morgan, at last. 
 
 " Oh! them bottles that won't stand," said Andy; " sure them's 
 what I said, with no bottoms to them. How'll I open it ? — it's tied down." 
 " Cut the cord, you fool !" 
 
 Andy did as he was desired ; and he happened at the time to held 
 the bottle of soda-water on a level with the candles that shed light over 
 the festive board from a large silver branch, and the moment he made 
 the incision, bang went the bottle of soda, knocking out two of the lights 
 with the projected cork, which, performing its parabola the length of 
 the room, struck the squire himself in the eye at the foot of the table, 
 while the hostess at the head had a cold-bath down her back. Andy- 
 when he saw the soda-water jumping out of the bottle, held it from him 
 at arm's length ; every fizz it made, exclaiming " Ow ! — ow ! — ow !' : 
 and, at last, when the bottle was empty, he roared out, " Oh, Lord ! — 
 it's all gone !" 
 
 Great was the commotion ; — few could resist laughter except the 
 ladies, who all looked at their gowns, not liking the mixture of satin 
 and soda-water. The extinguished candles were relighted, — the squire 
 got his eye open again, — and, the next time he perceived the butler 
 sufficiently near to speak to him, he said in a low and hurried tone of 
 deep anger, while he knit his brow, " Send that fellow out of the room !" 
 but, within the same instant, resumed the former smile, that beamed on 
 all around as if nothing had happened. 
 
 Andy was expelled the salle a manger in disgrace, and for days kept 
 out of his master's and mistress's way : in the mean time the butler 
 made a good story of the thing in the servants' hall ; and, when he held 
 up Andy's ignorance to ridicule, by telling how he asked for " soap and 
 water," Andy was given the name of " Suds," and was called by no other 
 for months after. 
 
 But, though Andy's functions in the interior were suspended, his 
 services in out-of-doors affairs were occasionally put in requisition. 
 But here his evil genius still haunted him, and he put his foot in a piece 
 of business his master sent him upon one day, which was so simple as 
 to defy almost the chance of Andy making any mistake about it ; but 
 Andy was very ingenious in his own particular line. 
 
 " Ride into the town, and see if there's a letter for me," said the 
 squire one day to our hero. 
 
 " Yis, sir." 
 
 " You know where to go ? " 
 
 " To the town, sir." 
 
 " But do you know where to go in the town 1" 
 
 11 No, sir." 
 
 " And why don't you ask, you stupid thief?" 
 
 " Sure I'd find out, sir." 
 
 " Didn't I often tell you to ask what you're to do, when you don't 
 know?" " 
 
10 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 " Yis, sir." 
 
 " And why don't you." 
 
 " I don't like to be throublesome, sir." 
 
 " Confound you !" said the squire ; though he could not help laugh- 
 ing at Andy's excuse for remaining in ignorance. 
 
 '* Well," continued he, " go to the post-office. You know the post* 
 office, I suppose ?" 
 
 " Yis, sir, where they sell gunpowdher." 
 
 " You're right for once," said the squire ; for his Majesty's postmaster 
 was the person who had the privilege of dealing in the aforesaid com- 
 bustible. " Go then to the post-office, and ask for a letter for me. 
 Remember, — not gunpowder, but a letter." 
 
 " Yis, sir," said Andy, who got astride of his hack, and trotted away 
 to the post-office. On arriving-at the shop of the postmaster, (for that 
 person carried on a brisk trade in groceries, gimlets, broad-cloth, and 
 linen-drapery,) Andy presented himself at the counter, and said, 
 
 " I want a letther, sir, if you plaze." 
 
 " Who do you want it for ?" said the postmaster, in a tone which Andy 
 considered an aggression upon the sacredness of private life : so Andy 
 thought the coolest contempt he could throw upon the prying imper- 
 tinence of the postmaster was to repeat his question. 
 
 " I want a letther, sir, if you plaze." 
 
 " And who do you want it for ?" repeated the postmaster. 
 
 " What's that to you ?" said Andy. 
 
 The postmaster, laughing at his simplicity, told him he could not tell 
 what letter to give him unless he told him the direction. 
 
 " The directions I got was to get a letther here, — that's the direc- 
 tions." 
 
 " Who gave you those directions?" 
 
 " The masther." 
 
 " And who's } r our master?" 
 
 " What consarn is that o' yours?" 
 
 " Why, you stupid rascal ! If you don't tell me his name, how can I 
 give you a letter ?" 
 
 " You could give it, if you liked ; but you're fond of axin' impidint 
 questions, bekaze you think I'm simple." 
 
 " Go along out o' this ! Your master must be as great a goose as 
 yourself, to send such a messenger." 
 
 " Bad luck to your impidince," said Andy ; " is it Squire Egan you 
 dar to say goose to ?" 
 
 " Oh, Squire Egan's your master, then ?" 
 
 " Yis ; have you anything to say agin it ?" 
 
 " Only that I never saw you before." 
 
 " Faith, then you'll never see me agin if I have my own consint." 
 
 " I won't give you any letter for the squire, unless I know you're his 
 servant. Is there any one in the town knows you ?" 
 
 " Plenty," said Andy, " it's not every one is as ignorant as you." 
 
 Just at this moment a person to whom Andy was known entered the 
 house, who vouched to the postmaster that he might give Andy the 
 squire's letter. " Have you one for me?" 
 
HANDY ANDY. 11 
 
 " Yes, sir," said the postmaster, producing one, — " fburpence." 
 
 The gentleman paid the fourpence postage, and left the shop with his 
 letter. 
 
 " Here's a letter for the squire," said the postmaster, " you've ro 
 pay me elevenpence postage." 
 
 " What 'ud I pay elevenpence for?" 
 
 " For postage." 
 
 " To the divil wid you ! Didn't I see you give Mr. Durfy a letther 
 for fourpence this minit, and a bigger letther than this 1 and now you 
 want me to pay elevenpence for this scrap of a thing. Do you think 
 I'm a fool ?" 
 
 " No ; but I'm sure of it," said the postmaster. 
 
 " Well, you're welkim to be sure, sure ; — but don't be delayin' me now , 
 here's fourpence for you, and gi' me the letther." 
 
 " Go along, you stupid thief," said the postmaster, taking up the 
 letter, and going to serve a customer with a mousetrap. 
 
 While this person and many others were served, Andy lounged up and 
 down the shop, every now and then putting in his head in the middle of 
 the customers, and saying, "Will you gi' me the letther?" 
 
 He waited for above half an hour, in defiance of the anathemas of 
 the postmaster, and at last left, when he found it impossible to get com- 
 mon justice for his master, which he thought he deserved as well as 
 another man ; for, under this impression, Andy determined to give no 
 more than the fourpence. 
 
 The squire in the mean time was getting impatient for his return, and 
 when Andy made his appearance, asked if there was a letter for him. 
 
 " There is, sir," said Andy. 
 
 " Then give it to me." 
 
 " I haven't it, sir." 
 
 " What do you mean ?" 
 
 " He wouldn't give it to me, sir," 
 
 " Who wouldn't give it to you ?" 
 
 " That owld chate bevant in the town, — wanting to charge double 
 for it." 
 
 " Maybe it's a double letter. Why the devil didn't you pay what he 
 asked, sir ?" 
 
 " Arrah, sir, why would I let you be chated ? It's not a double letther 
 at all : not above half the size o' one Mr Durfy got before my face for 
 fourpence." 
 
 " You'll provoke me to break your neck some day, you vagabond ! 
 Ride back for your life, you omadhaun ! and pay whatever he asks, and 
 get me the letter." 
 
 " Why, sir, I tell you he was sellin' them before my face for fourpence 
 a-piece."' 
 
 " Go back, you scoundrel ! or I'll horsewhip you ; and if you're longer 
 than an' hour, I'll have you ducked in the horsepond !" 
 
 Andy vanished, and made a second visit to the post-office. When 
 he arrived, two other persons were getting letters, and the postmaster 
 was selecting the epistles for each, from a large parcel that lay before 
 
12 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 him on the counter; at the same time many shop customers were wait- 
 ing to be served. 
 
 '* I'm come for that letther," said Andy. 
 
 " I'll attend to you by-and-by." 
 
 " The masther's in a hurry.' 
 
 " Let him wait till his hurry's o-ver." 
 
 " He'll murther me if I'm not back soon." 
 
 " I'm glad to hear it." 
 
 "While the postmaster went on with such provoking answers to these 
 appeals for despatch, Andy's eye caught the heap of letters which lay on 
 the counter ; so while certain weighing of soap and tobacco was going 
 forward, he contrived to become possessed of two letters from the heap, 
 and, having effected that, waited patiently enough till it was the great 
 man's pleasure to give him the missive directed to his master. 
 
 Then did Andy bestride his hack, and, in triumph at his trick on the 
 postmaster, rattle along the road homeward as fast as the beast could 
 carry him. He came into the squire's presence, his face beaming 
 with delight, and an air of self-satisfied superiority in his manner, quite 
 unaccountable to his master, until he pulled forth his hand, which had 
 been grubbing up his prizes from the bottom of his pocket ; and holding 
 three letters over his head, while he said, "Look at that!" he next 
 slapped them down under his broad fist on the table before the squire, 
 saying, 
 
 " Well! if he did make me pay elevenpence, by gor, I brought your 
 honour the worth o' your money any how!" 
 
HANDY ANDY. A3 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Andy walked out of the room with an air of supreme triumph, having 
 laid the letters on the table, and left the squire staring after him in per- 
 fect amazement. 
 
 "Well, by the powers! that's the most extraordinary genius I ever 
 came across," was the soliloquy the master uttered as the servant closed 
 the door after him ; and the squire broke the seal of the letter that 
 Andy's blundering had so long delayed. It was from his law-agent, on 
 the subject of an expected election in the county which would occur in 
 case of the demise of the then-sitting member ; — it ran thus : 
 
 " Dublin, Thursday. 
 
 " My dear Squire, — I am making all possible exertions to have 
 every and the earliest information on the subject of the election. I say 
 the election, — because, though the seat for the county is not yet vacant, 
 it is impossible but that it must soon be so. Any other man than the 
 present member must have died long ago ; but Sir Timothy Trimmer 
 has been so undecided all his life that he cannot at present make up his 
 mind to die ; and it is only by Death himself giving the casting vote 
 that the question can be decided. The writ for the vacant county is 
 expected to arrive by every mail, and in the meantime I am on the 
 alert for information. You know we are sure of the barony of Bally- 
 sloughgutthery, and the boys of Killanmaul will murder any one that 
 dares to give a vote against you. We are sure of Knockdoughty also, 
 and the very pigs in Glanamuck would return you ; but I must put you 
 on your guard in one point where you least expected to be betrayed. 
 You told me you were sure of Neck-or-nothing Hall ; but I can tell you 
 you're out there ; for the master of the aforesaid is working heaven, 
 earth, ocean, and all the little fishes, in the other interest ; for he is 
 so over head and ears in debt, that he is looking out for a pension, and 
 hopes to get one by giving his interest to the Honourable Sackville 
 Scatterbrain, who sits for the borough of Old Gooseberry at present, but 
 whose friends think his talents are worthy of a county. If Sack wins, 
 Neck-or-nothing gets a pension, — that's poz. I had it from the best 
 authority. I lodge at a milliner's here : — no matter ; more when I see 
 you. But don't be afraid ; we'll bag Sack, and distance Neck-or-no- 
 thing. But seriously speaking, it's too good a joke that O'Grady 
 should use you in this manner, who have been so kind to him in money 
 matters : but, as the old song says, ' Poverty parts good company ;' and 
 he is so cursed poor that he can't afford to know you any longer, now 
 that you have lent him all the money you had, and the pension in 
 prospectu is too much for his feelings. I'll be down with you again as 
 soon as I can, for I hate the diabolical town as I do poison. They have 
 altered Stephen's Green — ruined it, I should say. They have taken 
 away the big ditch that was round it, where I used to hunt water-rats 
 
14 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 when a boy. They are destroying the place with their d — d improve- 
 ments. All the dogs are well, I hope, and my favourite bitch 
 Remember me to Mrs. Egan, Whom all admire. 
 
 My dear squire, 
 
 Yours per quire, 
 " To Edward Egan, Esq. Merryvale. MuRTOUGH MuRPHY." 
 
 Murtough Murphy was a great character, as may be guessed from 
 his letter. He was a country attorney of good practice ; — good, because 
 he could not help it, — for, he was a clever, ready-witted fellow, up to all 
 sorts of trap, and one in whose hands a cause was very safe ; therefore 
 he had plenty of clients without his seeking them. For, if Murtough's 
 practice had depended on his looking for it, he might have made broth 
 of his own parchment ; for, though to all intents and purposes a good 
 attorney, he was so full of fun and fond of amusement, that it was only 
 by dint of the business being thrust upon him he was so extensive a 
 practitioner. He loved a good bottle, a good hunt, a good joke, and a 
 good song, as well as any fellow in Ireland ; and even when he was 
 obliged in the way of business to press a gentleman hard, — to hunt his 
 man to the death, — he did it so good-humouredly that his very victim 
 could not be angry with him. As for those he served, he was their 
 prime favourite ; there was nothing they could want to be done in the 
 parchment line that Murtough would not find out some way of doing ; 
 and he was so pleasant a fellow, that he shared in the hospitality of all 
 the best tables in the county. He kept good horses, was on every race- 
 ground within twenty miles, and a steeple-chase was no steeple-chase 
 without him. Then he betted freely, and, what's more, won his bets 
 very generally ; but no one found fault with him for that, and he took 
 your money with such a good grace, and mostly gave you a bon-mot in 
 exchange for it, — so that, next to winning the money yourself, you were 
 glad it was won by Murtough Murphy. 
 
 The squire read his letter two or three times, and made his comments 
 as he proceeded. " ' Working heaven and earth to,' — ha — So, that's 
 the work O'Grady's at — that's old friendship, — foul — foul ; and after all 
 the money I lent him too; — he'd better take care — I'll be down 
 on him if he plays false ; — not that I'd like that much either : — but — 
 Let's see who's this is coming down to oppose me ? — Sack Scatterbrain 
 — the biggest fool from this to himself; — the fellow can't ride a bit, — 
 a pretty member for a sporting county ! ' I lodge at a milliner's' — divil 
 doubt you, Murtough; I'll engage you do. — Bad luck to him! — he'd 
 rather be fooling away his time in a back-parlour, behind a bonnet-shop, 
 than minding the interests of the county. ' Pension ' — ha ! — wants it, 
 sure enough; — take care, O'Grady, or by the powers I'll be at you. — 
 You may baulk all the bailiffs, and defy any other man to serve you with 
 a writ ; but, by jingo ! if I take the matter in hand, I'll be bound I'll 
 get it done. ' Stephen's Green — big ditch — where I used to hunt 
 water-rats.' Divil sweep you, Murphy, you'd rather be hunting water- 
 rats any day than minding your business. — He's a clever fellow, for all 
 ihat. 'Favourite bitch — Mrs. Egan.' Ay! there's the end of it — with 
 his bit o' po'thry too ! The divil !" 
 
HANDY ANDY 15 
 
 The squire threw down the letter, and then his eye caught the other 
 two that Andy had purloined. 
 
 " More of that stupid blackguard's work ! — robbing the mail — no less ! 
 — that fellow will be hanged some time or other. ' Egad, maybe they'll 
 hang him for this ! What's best to be done ? — Maybe it will be the 
 safest way to see who they are for, and send them to the parties, and 
 request they will say nothing : that's it." 
 
 The squire here took up the letters that lay before him, to read their 
 superscriptions ; and the first he turned over was directed to Gustavus 
 Granby O'Grady, Esq. Neck-or-Nothing Hall, Knockbotherum. This 
 was what is called a ciuious coincidence. Just as he had been reading 
 all about O'Grady's intended treachery to him, here was a letter to that 
 individual, and with the Dublin post-mark too, and a very grand seal. 
 
 The squire examined the arms, and, though not versed in the mys- 
 teries of heraldry, he thought he remembered enough of most of the 
 arms he had seen to say that this armorial bearing was a strange one to 
 him. He turned the letter over and over again, and looked at it, back 
 and front, with an expression in his face that said, as plain as counten- 
 ance could speak, " I'd give a trifle to know what is inside of this." He 
 looked at the seal again : " Here's a — goose, I think it is, sitting in a 
 bowl, with cross-bars on it, and a spoon in its mouth ; like the fellow 
 that owns it, maybe. A goose with a silver spoon in his mouth ! Well, 
 here's the gable-end of a house, and a bird sitting on the top of it. 
 Could it be Sparrow ? There's a fellow called Sparrow, an under- 
 secretary at the Castle. D — n it ! I wish I knew what it's about." 
 
 The squire threw down the letter as he said, " D — n it," but took it 
 up again in a few seconds, and catching it edgewise between his fore- 
 finger and thumb, gave a gentle pressure that made the letter gape at 
 its extremities, and then, exercising that sidelong glance which is 
 peculiar to postmasters, waiting-maids, and magpies who inspect marrow- 
 bones, peeped into the interior of the epistle, saying to himself as he did 
 so, "All's fair in war, and why not in electioneering ?" His face, which 
 was screwed up to the scrutinizing pucker, gradually lengthened as he 
 caught some words that were on the last turn over of the sheet, and so 
 could be read thoroughly, and his brow darkened into the deepest frown 
 as he scanned these lines : "As you very properly and pungently re- 
 mark, poor Egan is a spoon — a mere spoon." " Am I a spoon, you 
 rascal?" said the squire, tearing the letter into pieces, and throwing it 
 into the fire. " And so, Misther O'Grady, you say I'm a spoon !" and 
 the blood of the Egans rose as the head of that pugnacious family strode 
 up and down the room : "I'll spoon you, my buck, — I'll settle your 
 hash ! maybe I'm a spoon you'll sup sorrow with yet !" 
 
 Here he took up the poker, and made a very angry lunge at the fire, 
 that did not want stirring, and there he beheld the letter blazing merrily 
 away. He dropped the poker as if he had caught it by the hot end, as 
 he exclaimed, " What the d — 1 shall I do ? I've burnt the letter !" This 
 threw the squire into a fit of what he was wont to call his " considering 
 cap ;" and he sat with his feet on the fender for some minutes, occasion- 
 ally muttering to himself what he began with, — " What the d — 1 shall 
 I do ? It's all owing to that infernal Andy — I'll murder that fellow some 
 
16 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 time or other. If he hadn't brought it, I shouldn't have seen it — to be 
 sure, if I hadn't looked ; but then the temptation — a saint couldn't have 
 withstood it. Confound it ! what a stupid trick to burn it. Another 
 here, too — must burn that as well, and say nothing about either of them ; " 
 and he took up the second letter, and, merely looking at the address, 
 threw it into the fire. He then rang the bell, and desired Andy to be 
 sent to him. As soon as that ingenious individual made his appearance, 
 the squire desired him with peculiar emphasis to shut the door, and then 
 opened upon him with, 
 
 " You unfortunate rascal !" 
 
 " Yis, your honour." 
 
 " Do you know that you might be hanged for what you did to-day ?" 
 
 " What did I do, sir ?" 
 
 " You robbed the post-office." 
 
 '• How did I rob it, sir ?" 
 
 M You took two letters you had no right to." 
 
 " It's no robbery for a man to get the worth of his money." 
 
 " Will you hold your tongue, you stupid villain ! I'm not joking: you. 
 absolutely might be hanged for robbing the post-office." 
 
 " Sure I didn't know there was any harm in what I done ; and for 
 that matther, sure, if they're sitch wondherful value, can't I go back 
 again wid'em ? " 
 
 " No, you thief. I hope you have not said a word to any one about it." 
 
 " Not the sign of a word passed my lips about it." 
 
 " You're sure ?" 
 
 " Sartin." 
 
 " Take care, then, that you never open your mouth to mortal about 
 it, or you'll be hanged, as sure as your name is Andy Rooney." 
 
 " Oh, at that rate I never will. But maybe your honour thinks I 
 ought to be hanged ? " 
 
 " No, — because you did not intend to do a wrong thing : but, only 
 I have pity on you, I could hang you to-morrow for what you've done." 
 
 " Thank you, sir." 
 
 " I've burnt the letters, so no one can know anything about the 
 business unless you tell on yourself: so remember, — not a word." 
 
 " Faith, I'll be as dumb as the dumb baste." 
 
 " Go, now ; and, once for all, remember you'll be hanged so sure as 
 you ever mention one word about this affair." 
 
 Andy made a bow and a scrape, and left the squire, who hoped the 
 secret was safe. He then took a ruminating walk round the pleasure 
 grounds, revolving plans of retaliation upon his false friend O'Grady ; 
 and having determined to put the most severe and sudden measure of 
 the law in force against him for the monies in which he was indebted to 
 him, he only awaited the arrival of Murtough Murphy from Dublin to 
 execute his vengeance. Having settled this in his own mind, he became 
 more contented, and said, with a self-satisfied nod of the head, " We'll 
 see who's the spoon." 
 
 In a few days Murtough Murphy returned from Dublin, and to 
 Merryvale he immediately proceeded. The squire opened to him 
 directly his intention of commencing hostile law proceedings against 
 
HANDY ANDY. 17 
 
 O'Grady, and asked what most summary measures could be put in 
 practice against him. 
 
 " Oh ! various, various, my dear squire," said Murphy ; "but I don't 
 see any great use in doing so yet, — he has not openly avowed himself." 
 
 " But does he not intend to coalesce with the other party ?" 
 
 " I believe so, that is, if he's to get the pension." 
 
 " Well, and that's as good as done, you know ; for if they want him, 
 the pension is easily managed." 
 
 " I'm not so sure of that." 
 
 " Why, they're as plenty as blackberries." 
 
 " Very true ; but, you see, Lord Gobblestown swallows all the pen- 
 sions for his own family ; and there are a great many complaints in the 
 market against him for plucking that blackberry-bush very bare indeed; 
 and unless Sack Scatterbrain has swingeing interest, the pension may 
 not be such an easy thing." 
 
 " But still O'Grady has shown himself not my friend." 
 
 " My dear squire, don't be so hot : he has not shown himself 
 yet " 
 
 " Well, but he means it." 
 
 " My dear squire, you oughn't to jump a conclusion like a twelve- 
 foot drain or a five-bar gate." 
 
 " Well, he's a blackguard." 
 
 " No denying it ; and therefore keep him on your side, if you can, or 
 he'll be a troublesome customer on the other." 
 
 " I'll keep no terms with him ; — I'll slap at him directly. What can 
 you do that's wickedest ? — latitat, capias — fee-faw-fum, or whatever 
 you call it ?" 
 
 " Hollo ! squire, you're overrunning your game : may be, after all, 
 he won't join the Scatterbrains, and " 
 
 "I tell you it's no matter ; he intended doing it, and that's all the 
 same. I'll slap at him, — I'll blister him !" 
 
 Murtough Murphy wondered at this blind fury of the squire, who, 
 being a good-humoured and good-natured fellow in general, puzzled the 
 attorney the more by his present manifest malignity against O'Grady. 
 But he had not seen the turn-over of the letter ; he had not seen 
 " spoon," — the real and secret cause of the " war to the knife " spirit 
 which was kindled in the squire's breast. 
 
 " Of course you can do what you please ; but, if you'd take a friend's 
 advice " 
 
 " I tell you I'll blister him." 
 
 " He certainly bled you very freely." 
 
 " I'll blister him, I tell you, and that smart. Lose no time, Murphy, 
 my boy : let loose the dogs of law on him, and harass him till he'd wish 
 the d — 1 had him." 
 
 " Just as you like ; but " 
 
 " I'll have it my own way, I tell you ; so say no more." 
 
 "I'll commence against him at once, then, as you wish it ; but it's 
 no use, for you know very well that it will be impossible to serve him." 
 
 " Let me alone for that! I'll be bound I'll find fellows to get the 
 inside of him." 
 
16 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 " Why, his house is barricaded like a jail, and he has dogs enough to 
 bait all the bulls in the country." 
 
 " No matter ; just send me the blister for him, and I'll engage I'll 
 stick it on him." 
 
 " Very well, squire ; you shall have the blister as soon as it can be 
 got ready. I'll tell you whenever you may send over to me for it, 
 and your messenger shall have it hot and warm for him. Good-b'ye, 
 squire !" 
 
 " Good-b'ye, Murphy ! — lose no time." 
 
 " In the twinkling of a bed-post. Are you going to Tom Durfy's 
 steeple-chase V 
 
 " I'm not sure." 
 
 " I've a bet on it. Did you see the Widow Flanagan lately ? You 
 didn't ? They say Tom's pushing it strong there. The widow has 
 money, you know, and Tom does it all for the love o' God ; for you 
 know, squire, there are two things God hates, — a coward and a poor 
 man. Now, Tom's no coward ; and, that he may be sure of the Jove 
 o' God on the other score, he's making up to the widow ; and, as he's 
 a slashing fellow, she's nothing loth, and, for fear of any one cutting 
 him out, Tom keeps as sharp a look-out after her as she does after 
 him. He's fierce on it, and looks pistols at any one that attempts 
 putting his cornether on the widow, while she looks " as soon as you 
 plaze," as plain as an optical lecture can enlighten the heart of man : 
 in short, Tom's all ram's horns, and the widow all sheep's eyes. 
 Good-b'ye, squire !" And Murtough put spurs to his horse and can- 
 tered down the avenue, whistling the last popular tune. 
 
 Andy was sent over to Murtough Murphy's for the law process at 
 the appointed time ; and, as he had to pass through the village, Mrs. 
 Egan desired him to call at the apothecary's for some medicine that 
 was prescribed for one of the children. 
 
 " What '11 I ax for, ma'am ?" 
 
 " I'd be sorry to trust to you, Andy, for remembering. Here's the 
 prescription ; take great care of it, and Mr. M'Garry will give you 
 something to bring back ; and mind, if it's a powder, — " 
 
 " Is it gunpowdher, ma'am ?" 
 
 " No — you stupid — will you listen — I say, if it's a powder, don't let 
 it get wet, as you did the sugar the other day." 
 
 " No ma'am." 
 
 " And if it's a bottle, don't break it as you did the last." 
 
 " No, ma'am." 
 
 " And make haste." 
 
 " Yis, ma'am :" and on went Andy. 
 
 In going through the village he forgot to leave the prescription at 
 the apothecary's, and pushed on for the attorney's : there he saw Mur- 
 tough Murphy, who handed him the law process, enclosed in a cover, 
 with a note to the squire. 
 
 " Have you been doing anything very clever lately, Andy ?" said 
 Murtough. 
 
 " I don't know, sir," said Andy. 
 
 " Did you shoot any one with soda-water since I saw you last ?" 
 
HANDY ANDY. 19 
 
 Andy grinned. 
 
 " Did you kill any more dogs lately, Andy ?" 
 
 " Faix, you're too hard on me, sir : sure T never killed but one dog, 
 and that was an accident " 
 
 "An accident! — Curse your impudence, you thief! Do you think, 
 if you killed one of the pack on purpose, we wouldn't cut the very 
 heart out o' you with our hunting-whips ?" 
 
 " Faith, I wouldn't doubt you, sir : but, sure, how could I help that 
 divil of a mare runnin' away wid me, and thramplin' the dogs ?" 
 
 " Why didn't you hold her, you thief?" 
 
 " Hould her, indeed ! — you just might as well expect to stop fire 
 among flax as that one." 
 
 " Well, be off with you now, Andy, and take care of what I gave you 
 for the squire." 
 
 " Oh, never fear, sir," said Andy, as he turned his horse's head home- 
 ward. He stopped at the apothecary's in the village, to execute his 
 commission for the " misthis." On telling the son of Galen that he 
 wanted some physic " for one o' the childre up at the big house," the 
 dispenser of the healing art asked what physic he wanted. 
 
 " Faith, I dunna what physic." 
 
 " What's the matter with the child ?" 
 
 " He's sick, sir." 
 
 " I suppose so, indeed, or you wouldn't be sent for medicine. — 
 You're always making some blunder. You come here, and don't know 
 what description of medicine is wanted." 
 
 " Don't I ?" said Andy with a great air. 
 
 " No, you don't, you omadhaun !" said the apothecary. 
 
 Andy fumbled in his pockets, and could not lay hold of the paper 
 his mistress entrusted him with until he had emptied them thoroughly 
 of their contents upon the counter of the shop ; and then taking the 
 prescription from the collection, he said, " So you tell me I don't 
 know the description of the physic I'm to get. Now, you see you're 
 out ; for that's the description." And he slapped the counter impres- 
 sively with his hand as he threw down the recipe before the apothecary. 
 
 While the medicine was in the course of preparation for Andy, he 
 commenced restoring to his pockets the various parcels he had taken 
 from them in hunting for the recipe. Now, it happened that he had 
 laid them down close beside some articles that were compounded, and 
 sealed up for going out, on the apothecary's counter ; and as the law 
 process which Andy had received from Murtough Murphy chanced to 
 resemble in form another enclosure that lay beside it, containing a blis- 
 ter, Andy, under the influence of his peculiar genius, popped the blister 
 into his pocket instead of the pajket which had been confided to him 
 by the attorney, and having obtained the necessary medicine from 
 M'Garry, rode home with great self-complacency that he had not forgot 
 to do a single thing that had been entrusted to him- " I'm all right 
 this time," said Andy to himself. 
 
 Scarcely had he left the apothecary's shop when another messen- 
 ger alighted at its door, and asked " If Squire O'Grady's things was 
 readv ?" 
 
20 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 a There they are," said the innocent M'Garry, pointing to the bot- 
 tles, boxes, and blister, he had made up and set aside, little dreaming 
 that the blister had been exchanged for a law process : and Squire 
 O'Grady's own messenger popped into his pocket the legal instrument, 
 that it was as much as any seven men's lives were worth to bring within 
 gun-shot oi Neck-or-Nothing Hall. 
 
 Home he went, and the sound of the old gate creaking on its hinges 
 at the entrance to the avenue awoke the deep-mouthed dogs around 
 the house, who rushed infuriate to the spot to devour the unholy 
 intruder on the peace and privacy of the patrician O'Grady ; but they 
 recognised the old grey hack and his rider, and quietly wagged their 
 tails and trotted back, and licked their lips at the thoughts of the bailiff 
 they had hoped to eat. The door of Neck-or-Nothing Hall was care- 
 fully unbarred and unchained, and the nurse-tender was handed the 
 parcel from the apothecary's, and re-ascended to the sick-room with 
 slippered foot as quietly as she could ; for the renowned O'Grady was, 
 according to her account, " as cross as two sticks ;" and she protested, 
 furthermore, " that her heart was grey with him." 
 
 Whenever O'Grady was in a bad humour, he had a strange fashion 
 of catching at some word that either he himself, or those with whom he 
 spoke, had uttered, and after often repeating it, or rather mumbling it 
 over in his mouth as if he were chewing it, off he started into a canter 
 of ridiculous rhymes to the aforesaid word, and sometimes one of these 
 rhymes would suggest a new idea, or some strange association, which had 
 the oddest effect possible ; and to increase the absurdity, the jingle was 
 gone through with as much solemnity as if he were indulging in a deep 
 and interesting reverie, so that it was difficult to listen without laugh- 
 ing, which might prove a serious matter, when O'Grady was in one of 
 his tantarums, as his wife used to call them. 
 
 Mrs. O'Grady was near the bed of the sick man as the nurse-tender 
 entered. 
 
 " Here's the things for your honour now," said she in her most 
 soothing tone. 
 
 " I wish the d — 1 had you and them !" said O'Grady. 
 
 " Gusty, dear !" said his wife. (She might have said stormy instead 
 of gusty.) 
 
 "Oh! they'll do you good, your honour," said the nurse-tender, 
 curtsying, and uncorking bottles, and opening a pill-box. 
 
 O'Grady made a face at the pill-box, and repeated the word "pills," 
 several times, with an expression of extreme disgust — " Pills — pills — 
 kills — wills — aye — make your wills — make them — take them — shake 
 them. When taken — lo be well shaken — show me that bottle." 
 
 The nurse tender handed a phial, which O'Grady shook violently. 
 
 " Curse them all," said the squire. " A pretty thing to have a gentle- 
 man's body made 'a perfect sink, for these blackguard doctors and apo- 
 thecaries to pour their dirty drugs into — faugh! — drugs — mugs — jugs ;" 
 — he shook the phial again and looked through it. 
 
 " Isn't it nice and pink, darlin' ?" said the nurse-tender. 
 
 "Pink!" — said O'Grady, eyeing her askance, as if he could have 
 eaten her. " Pink — you old besom — pink " he uncorked the phial 
 
HANDY ANDY. 21 
 
 and put it to his nose. " Pink' — phew !" and he repeated a rhyme to 
 pink which would not look well in print. 
 
 "Now, sir, dear, there's a little blisther just to go on your chest — if 
 you plaze " 
 
 "A what!" 
 
 "A warm plasther, dear." 
 
 " A blister you said, you old divil /" 
 
 " Well, sure, it's something to relieve you." 
 
 The squire gave a deep growl, and his wife put in the usual appeal 
 of " Gusty, dear !" 
 
 " Hold your tongue, will you ? how would you like it ? I wish you 
 had it on your " 
 
 " 'Deed-an-deed, dear, — " said the nurse-tender. 
 
 " By the 'ternal war ! if you say another word, I'll throw the jug at 
 
 you!" 
 
 " And there's a nice dhrop o' gruel I have on the fire for you," said 
 the nurse, pretending not to mind the rising anger of the squire, as 
 she stirred the gruel with one hand, while with the other she marked 
 herself with the sign of the cross, and said in a mumbling manner, " God 
 presarve us ! he's the most cantankerous Christian I ever kem across !" 
 
 " Show me that infernal thing !" said the squire. 
 
 " What thing, dear ?" 
 
 "You know well enough, you old hag ! — that blackguard blister !" 
 
 " Here it is, dear. Now, just open the brust o' your shirt, and let 
 me put it an you." 
 
 " Give it into my hand here, and let me see it." 
 
 " Sartinly, sir ; — but I think, if you'd let me just " 
 
 " Give it to me, I tell you !" said the squire, in a tone so fierce that 
 the nurse paused in her unfolding of the packet, and handed it with 
 fear and trembling to the already indignant O'Grady. But it is only 
 imagination can figure the outrageous fury of the squire, when, on 
 opening the envelope with his own hand, he beheld the law process 
 before him. There, in the heart of his castle, with his bars, and bolts, 
 and bull-dogs, and blunderbusses around him, he was served, — abso- 
 lutely served, — and he had no doubt the nurse-tender was bribed to 
 betray him. 
 
 A roar and a jump up in bed, first startled his wife into terror, and 
 put the nurse on the defensive. 
 
 " You infernal old strap !" shouted he, as he clutched up a handful 
 of bottles on the table near him and flung them at the nurse, who was 
 near the fire at the time ; and she whipped the pot of gruel from the 
 grate, and converted it into a means of defence against the phial-pelting 
 storm. 
 
 Mrs. O'Grady rolled herself up in the bed-curtains, while the nurse 4 
 screeched " murther !" and at last, when O'Grady saw that bottles were 
 of no avail, he scrambled out of bed, shouting, " Where's my blunder- 
 buss 5" and the nurse-tender, while he endeavoured to get it down from 
 the rack, where it was suspended over the mantel-piece, bolted out of 
 the door, which she locked on the outside, and ran to the most remote 
 corner of the house for shelter. 
 
■ 
 
 22 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 In the mean time, how fared it at Merryvale ? Andy returned with 
 his parcel for the squire, and his note from Murtough Murphy, which 
 ran thus : 
 
 " My dear Squire. — I send you the blister for O'Grady, as you insist 
 on it ; but I think you won't find it easy to serve him with it. 
 
 " Your obedient and obliged, 
 
 " Murtough Murphy." 
 " To Edward Egan, Esq. Merryvale." 
 
 The squire opened the cover, and when he saw a real instead of a 
 figurative blister, grew crimson with rage. He could not speak for 
 some minutes, his indignation was so excessive. " So !" said he, at last, 
 " Mr. Murtough Murphy — you think to cut your jokes with me, do you ? 
 By all that's sacred ! I'll cut such a joke on you with the biggest 
 horsewhip I can find, that you'll remember it. ' Dear squire, I send 
 you the blister.' Bad luck to your impidence ! Wait till awhile ago — 
 that's all. By this and that you'll get such a blistering from me that 
 all the spermaceti in M'Garry's shop won't cure you." 
 
HANDY ANDY. 23 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 Squire Egan was as good as his word. He picked out the most 
 suitable horsewhip for chastising the fancied impertinence of Murtough 
 Murphy ; and as he switched it up and down with a powerful arm, to 
 try its weight and pliancy, the whistling of the instrument through the 
 air was music to his ears, and whispered of promised joy in the flagel- 
 lation of the jocular attorney. 
 
 " We'll see who can make the sorest blister," said the squire. " I'll 
 back whalebone against Spanish flies any day. Will you bet, Dick ?" 
 said he to his brother-in-law, who was a wild helter-skelter sort of 
 fellow, better known over the country as Dick the Devil than Dick 
 Dawson. 
 
 " I'll back your bet, Ned." 
 
 " There's no fun in that, Dick, as there is nobody to take it up." 
 
 " Maybe Murtough will. Ask him before you thrash him ; you'd 
 better." 
 
 "As for him," said the squire, " I'll be bound he'll back my bet 
 after he gets a taste o' this ;" and the horsewhip whistled as he spoke. 
 
 " I think he had better take care of his back than his bet," said 
 Dick, as he followed the squire to the hall-door, where his horse was in 
 waiting for him, under the care of the renowned Andy, who little 
 dreamed of the extensive harvest of mischief which was ripening in 
 futurity, all from his sowing. 
 
 " Don't kill him quite, Ned," said Dick, as the squire mounted to his 
 saddle. 
 
 " Why, if I went to horsewhip a gentleman, of course i should only 
 shake my whip at him ; but an attorney is another affair. And, as I'm 
 sure he'll have an action against me for assault, I think I may as well 
 get the worth o' my money out of him, to say nothing of teaching him 
 better manners for the future than to play ofThis jokes on his employers." 
 With these words off he rode in search of the devoted Murtough, who 
 was not at home when the squire reached his house ; but as he was 
 returning through the village, he espied him coming down the street in 
 company with Tom Durfy and the widow, who were laughing heartily 
 at some joke Murtough was telling them, which seemed to amuse him 
 as much as his hearers. 
 
 " I'll make him laugh at the wrong side of his mouth," thought the 
 squire, alighting and giving his horse to the care of one of the little 
 ragged boys who were idling in the street. He approached Murphy 
 with a very threatening aspect, and confronting him and his party so as 
 to produce a halt, he said, as distinctly as his rage would permit him to 
 speak, " You little insignificant blackguard, I'll teach you how you'll 
 
24 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 cut your jokes on*W again; I'll blister you, my buck!" and, laying 
 hands on the astonished Murtough with the last word, he began a very 
 smart horsewhipping of the attorney. The widow screamed, Tom Durfy 
 swore, and Murtough roared, with some interjectional curses. At last 
 he escaped from the squire's grip, leaving the lappel of his coat in his 
 possession ; and Tom Durfy interposed his person between them when 
 he saw an intention on the part of the flagellator to repeat his dose of 
 horsewhip. 
 
 " Let me at him, sir ; or by " 
 
 " Fie, fie, squire — to horsewhip a gentleman like a cart-horse." 
 
 " A gentleman ! — an attorney, you mean." 
 
 " I say, a gentleman, Squire Egan," cried Murtough fiercely, roused 
 to gallantry by the presence of a lady, and smarting under a sense of 
 injury and whalebone. " I'm a gentleman, sir, and demand the satis- 
 faction of a gentleman. I put my honour into your hands, Mr. Durfy." 
 
 " Between his finger and thumb, you mean, for there's not a handful 
 of it," said the squire. 
 
 " Well, sir, replied Tom Durfy, " little or much, I'll take charge 
 of it. — That's right, my cock," said he to Murtough, who, notwith- 
 standing his desire to assume a warlike air, could not resist the natural 
 impulse of rubbing his back and shoulders, which tingled with pain, 
 while he exclaimed, " Satisfaction! satisfaction!" 
 
 " Very well," said the squire : you name yourself as Mr. Murphy's 
 friend ?" added he to Durfy. 
 
 " The same, sir," said Tom. " Who do you name as yours ?" 
 
 " I suppose you know one Dick the Divil." 
 
 " A very proper person, sir ; — no better : I'll go to him directly." 
 
 The widow clung to Tom's arm, aud looking tenderly at him, cried, 
 " Oh, Tom, Tom, take care of your precious life !" 
 
 " Bother!" said Tom. 
 
 " Ah, Squire Egan, don't be so bloodthirsty !" 
 
 "Fudgr, woman!" said the squire. 
 
 " Ah, Mr. Murphy, I'm sure the squire's very sorry for beating you-'' 
 
 " Divil a bit," said the squire. 
 
 " There, ma'am," said Murphy ; " you see he'll make no apology." 
 
 " Apology !" said Durfy ; — ■" apology for a horsewhipping, indeed ! 
 — Nothing but handing a horsewhip (which I wouldn't ask any gentle- 
 man to do), or a shot, can settle the matter." 
 
 " Oh, Tom ! Tom ! Tom !" said the widow. 
 
 "Ba! ba! ba!" shouted Tom, making a crying face at her. "Arrah, 
 woman, don't be makin' a fool o' yourself. Go in there to the 'pothe- 
 cary's, and get something under your nose to revive you ; and let us 
 mind our business." 
 
 The widow, with her eyes turned up, and an exclamation to Heaven, 
 was retiring to M 'Garry's shop, wringing her hands, when she was 
 nearly knocked down by M' Garry himself, who rushed from his own 
 door, at the same moment that an awful smash of his shop-window, and 
 the demolition of his blue and red bottles alarmed the ears of the 
 bystanders, while their eyes were drawn from the late belligerent par- 
 ties to a chase which took place down the street of the apothecary, 
 
HANDY ANDY. 25 
 
 roaring " Murder !" followed by Squire O'Grady with an enormous 
 cudgel. 
 
 O'Grady, believing that M'Garry and the nurse-tender had combined 
 to serve him with a writ, determined to wreak double vengeance on the 
 apothecary, as the nurse had escaped him ; and, notwithstanding all his 
 illness and the appeals of his wife, he left his bed and rode to the vil- 
 lage to break every bone in M'Garry's skin." When he entered his 
 shop, the pharmacopolist was much surprised, and said, with a congra- 
 tulatory grin at the great man, " Dear me, Squire O'Grady, I'm 
 delighted to see you." 
 
 " Are you, you scoundrel !" said the squire, making a blow of his 
 cudgel at him, which was fended by an iron pestle the apothecary for- 
 tunately had in his hand. The enraged O'Grady made a rush behind 
 the counter, which the apothecary nimbly jumped over, crying " Mur- 
 der ;" as he made for the door, followed by his pursuer, who gave a 
 back-handed slap at the window-bottles en passant, and produced the 
 crash which astonished the widow, who now joined her screams to the 
 general hue-and-cry ; for an indiscriminate chase of all the ragamuffins 
 in the town, with barking curs and screeching children, followed the 
 flight of M'Garry and the pursuing squire. 
 
 " What the divil is all this about?" said Tom Durfy, laughing. " By 
 the powers ! I suppose there's something in the weather, to produce all 
 this fun, — though it's early in the year to begin thrashing, for the har- 
 vest isn't in yet. But, however, let us manage our little affair, now that 
 we're left in peace and quietness, for the blackguards are all over the 
 bridge afther the hunt. I'll go to Dick the Divil immediately, squire, 
 and arrange time and place." 
 
 There's nothing like saving time and trouble on these occasions," 
 said the squire. " Dick is at my house, I can arrange time and place 
 with you this minute, and he will be on the ground with me." 
 
 " Very well," said Tom ; " where is it to be ?" 
 
 " Suppose we say the cross-roads, halfway between this and Merry- 
 vale ?. There's very pretty ground there, and we shall be able to get our 
 pistols, and all that, ready in the mean time between this and four 
 o'clock, — and it will be pleasanter to have it all over before dinner." 
 
 " Certainly, squire," said Tom Durfy ; " we'll be there at four. — 
 Till then, good morning, squire ;" and he and his man walked off. 
 
 The widow, in the mean time, had been left to the care of the apothe- 
 cary's boy, whose tender attentions were now, for the first time in his 
 life, demanded towards a fainting lady ; for the poor raw country lad, 
 having to do with a sturdy peasantry in every day matters, had never 
 before seen the capers cut by a lady who thinks it proper, and delicate, 
 and becoming, to display her sensibility in a swoon ; and truly her sobs, 
 and small screeches, and little stampings and kickings, amazed young 
 gallipot. — Smelling salts were apph-d — they were rather weak, so the 
 widow inhaled the pleasing odour with a sigh, but did not recover. — 
 Sal volatile was next put in requisition — this was somewhat stronger, 
 and made her wriggle on her chair, and throw her head about with 
 sundry ohs ! and ahs ! — The boy, beginning to be alarmed at the extent 
 of the widow's syncope, bethought him of assafcetida, and, taking down a 
 
26 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 goodly bottle of that sweet smelling stimulant, gave the widow the benefit 
 of the whole jar under her nose. — Scarcely had the stopper been with- 
 drawn, when she gave a louder screech than she had yet executed, and, 
 exclaiming " faugh ! " with an expression of the most concentrated dis- 
 gust, opened her eyes fiercely upon the offender, and shut up her nose 
 between her fore-finger and thumb against the offence, and snuffled 
 forth at the astonished boy, " Get out o'that, you dirty cur ! — Can't you 
 let a lady faint in peace and quietness ? — Gracious heavens ! would you 
 smother me, you nasty brute 1 — Oh, Tom, where are you ?" — and she 
 took to sobbing forth, " Tom ! Tom !" and put her handkerchief to her 
 eyes, to hide the tears that were not there, while from behind the corner 
 of the cambrick she kept a sharp eye on the street, and observed what 
 was going on. She went on acting her part very becomingly, until the 
 moment Tom Durfy walked off with Murphy ; but then she could feign 
 no longer, and jumping up from her seat, with an exclamation of " The 
 brute ! " she ran to the door, and looked down the street after them. 
 "The savage!" sobbed the widow — "the hard-hearted monster, to 
 abandon me here to die — oh ! to use me so — to leave me like a — like a 
 — (the widow was fond of similes) like an old shoe — like a dirty glove — 
 like a — like I don't know what ! " (the usual fate of similes.) " Mister 
 Durfy, I'll punish you for this — I will ! " said the widow, with an ener- 
 getic emphasis on the last word ; and she marched out of the shop, boil- 
 ing over with indignation, through which, nevertheless, a little bubble of 
 love now and then rose to the surface ; and by the time she reached her 
 own door, love predominated, and she sighed as she laid her hand on the 
 knocker : " After all, if the dear fellow should be killed, what would 
 become of me ! — oh ! — and that wretch, Dick Dawson, too — two of them. 
 — The worst of these merry devils is, they are always fighting!" 
 
 The squire had ridden immediately homewards, and told Dick Daw- 
 son the piece of work that was before them. 
 
 " And so he'll have a shot at you, instead of an action ? " said Dick. 
 " Well, there's pluck in that : I wish he was more of a gentleman, for 
 your sake. It's dirty work, shooting attorneys." 
 
 " He's enough of a gentleman, Dick, to make it impossible for me to 
 refuse him." 
 
 " Certainly, Ned," said Dick. 
 
 " Do you know, is he anything of a shot ? " 
 
 " Faith, he makes very pretty snipe-shooting ; but I don't know if 
 he has experience of the grass before breakfast." 
 
 " You must try and find out from any one on the ground ; because, 
 if the poor devil isn't a good shot, I wouldn't like to kill him, and I'll 
 let him off easy — I'll give it to him in the pistol-arm, or so." 
 
 " Very well, Ned. Where are the flutes ? I must look over them." 
 
 " Here," said the squire, producing a very handsome mahogany case 
 of Rigby's best. Dick opened the case with the utmost care, and took 
 up one of the pistols tenderly, handling it as delicately as if it were a 
 young child or a lady's hand. He clicked the lock back and forwards a 
 few times ; and, his ear not being satisfied at the music it produced, he 
 said he should like to examine them : " At all events, they want a touch 
 of oil." 
 
HANDY ANDY. 27 
 
 " Well, keep them out of the misthriss's sight, Dick, for she might be 
 alarmed." 
 
 " Divil a taste," says Dick ; she's a Dawson, and there never was 
 a Dawson yet that did not know men must be men." 
 
 " That's true, Dick. I wouldn't mind so much if she wasn't in a 
 delicate situation just now, wheh it couldn't be expected of the woman 
 to be so stout : so go, like a good fellow, into your own room, and 
 Andy will bring you any thing you want." 
 
 Five minutes after, Dick was engaged in cleaning the duelling-pistols, 
 and Andy at his elbow, with his mouth wide open, wondering at the 
 interior of the locks which Dick had just taken off. 
 
 " Oh, my heavens ! but that's a quare thing, Misther Dick, sir," said 
 Andy, going to take it up. 
 
 " Keep your fingers off it, you thief, do ! " roared Dick, making a rap 
 of the turnscrew at Andy's knuckles. 
 
 " Sure I'll save you the throuble o' rubbin' that, Misther Dick, if you 
 let me ; here's the shabby leather." 
 
 " I wouldn't let your clumsy fist near it, Andy, nor your shabby 
 leather, you villain, for the world. Go get me some oil." 
 
 Andy went on his errand, and returned with a can of lamp-oil to 
 Dick, who swore at him for his stupidity : " The divil fly away with 
 you; you never do anything right ; you bring me lamp-oil for a pistol." 
 
 " Well, sure I thought lamp-oil was the right thing for burnin'." 
 
 " And who wants to burn it, you savage?" 
 
 " Aren't you goin' to fire it, sir ?" 
 
 " Choke you, you vagabond !" said Dick, who could not resist laugh- 
 ing, nevertheless ; " be off, and get me some sweet oil, but don't tell any 
 one what it's for." 
 
 Andy retired, and Dick pursued his polishing of the locks. Why he 
 used such a blundering fellow as Andy for a messenger might be won- 
 dered at, only that Dick was fond of fun, and Andy's mistakes were a 
 particular source of amusement to him, and on all occasions when he 
 could have Andy in his company he made him his attendant. When 
 the sweet oil was produced, Dick looked about for a feather ; but, not 
 finding one, desired Andy to fetch him a pen. Andy went on his 
 errand, and returned, after some delay, with an inkbottle. 
 
 " I brought you the ink, sir, but I can't find a pin." 
 
 " Confound your numskull ! I didn't say a word about ink ; I asked 
 for a pen." 
 
 " And what use would a pin be without ink, now I ax yourself, 
 Misther Dick?" 
 
 " I'd knock your brains out if you had any, you omadhaun ! Go 
 along and get me a feather, and make haste." 
 
 Andy went off, and, having obtained a feather, returned to Dick, who 
 began to tip certain portions of the lock very delicately with oil. 
 
 " What's that for, Misther Dick, sir, if you plaze ?" 
 
 " To make it work smooth." 
 
 " And what's that thing you're grazin' now, sir ? " 
 
 " That's the tumbler." 
 
 " O Lord ! a tumbler — what a quare name for it. I thought there 
 was no tumbler but a tumbler for punch." 
 
28 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 ' ' That's the tumbler you would like to be cleaning the inside of, Andy." 
 
 " Thrue for you, sir. — And what's that little thing you have your hand 
 on now, sir 1 " 
 
 " That's the cock." 
 
 " Oh dear, a cock! — Is there e'er a hin in it, sir?" 
 
 " No, nor a chicken either, though there is a feather." 
 
 " The one in your hand, sir, that you're grazin' it with." 
 
 " No : but this little thing — that is called the feather-spring." 
 
 " It's the feather, I suppose, makes it let fly." 
 
 " No doubt of it, Andy." 
 
 " Well, there's some sinse in that name, then ; but who'd think of 
 eitch a thing as a tumbler and a cock in a pistle ? And what's that place 
 that opens and shuts, sir ?" 
 
 " The pan." 
 
 " Well, there's sinse in that name too, bekaze there's fire in the 
 thing ; and it's as nath'ral to say pan to that as to a fryin'-pan — isn't it, 
 Misther Dick ?" 
 
 " Oh ! there was a great gunmaker lost in you, Andy," said Dick, as 
 he screwed on the locks, which he had regulated to his mind, and began 
 to examine the various departments of the pistol case, to see that it was 
 properly provided. He took the instrument to cut some circles of thin 
 leather, and Andy again asked him for the name " o' that thing." 
 
 " This is called the punch, Andy." 
 
 " So, there is the punch as well as the tumbler, sir ? " 
 
 " Ay, and very strong punch it is, you see, Andy ;" and Dick struck 
 it with his little mahogany mallet, and cut his patches of leather. 
 
 " And what's that for, sir ? — the leather, I mane." 
 
 " That's for putting round the ball." 
 
 " Is it for fear 'twould hurt him too much when you hot him ?" 
 
 " You're a queer customer, Andy," said Dick, smiling. 
 
 " And what weeshee little balls thim is, sir." 
 
 " They are always small for duelling-pistols." 
 
 " Oh, then thim is jewellin' pistles. Why, musha, Misther Dick, is it 
 goin' to fight a jule you are ?" said Andy, looking at him with earnestness. 
 
 " No, Andy, — but the master is : but don't say a word about it." 
 
 " Not a word for the world. The masther goin' to fight ! — God send 
 him safe out iv it ! — Amin. And who is he going to fight, Misther 
 Dick V 
 
 " Murphy the attorney, Andy." 
 
 " Oh, won't the masther disgrace himself by fightin' the 'torney ?" 
 
 " How dare you say such a thing of your master '!" 
 
 " I ax your pard'n, Misther Dick ; but sure you know what I mane. 
 I hope he'll shoot him." 
 
 " Why, Andy, Murtough was always very good to you, and now you 
 wish him to be shot." 
 
 " Sure, why wouldn't I rather have him kilt more than the masther ?" 
 
 " But neither may be killed." 
 
 " Misther Dick," said Andy, lowering his voice, wouldn't it be an 
 iligant thing to put two balls into the pistle instead o' one, and give the 
 masther a chance over the 'torney ?" 
 
HANDY ANDY. 29 
 
 " Oh, you murdherous villain!" 
 
 " Arrah, why shouldn't the masther have a chance over him ? sure he 
 has childre, and 'Torney Murphy has none." 
 
 " At that rate, Andy, I suppose you'd give the masther a ball addi- 
 tional for every child he has, and that would make eight. So you might 
 as well giye him a blunderbuss and slugs at once." 
 
 Dick locked the pistol-case, having made all right ; and desired Andy 
 to mount a horse, carry it by a back road out of the domain, and 
 wait at a certain gate he named until he should be joined there by 
 himself and the squire, who proceeded at the appointed time to the 
 ground. 
 
 Andy was all ready, and followed his master and Dick with great 
 pride, bearing the pistol-case after them, to the ground where Murphy 
 and Tom Durfy were ready to receive them ; and a great number of 
 spectators were assembled ; for the noise of the business had gone abroad, 
 and the ground was in consequence crowded. 
 
 Tom Durfy had warned Murtough Murphy, who had no experience 
 as a pistol-man, that the squire was a capital shot, and that his only 
 chance was to fire as quickly as he could. — " Slap at him, Morty, my 
 boy, the minute you get the word ; and, if you don't hit him itself, it 
 will prevent his dwelling on his aim." 
 
 Tom Durfy and Dick the Devil soon settled the preliminaries of the 
 ground and mode of firing ; and twelve paces having been marked, both 
 the seconds opened their pistol-cases, and prepared to load. Andy was 
 close to Dick all the time, kneeling beside the pistol case, which lay on 
 the sod ; and, as Dick turned round to settle some other point on which 
 Tom Durfy questioned him, Andy thought he might snatch the oppor- 
 tunity of giving his master " the chance" he suggested to his second. — 
 " Sure, if Misther Dick wouldn't like to do it, that's no raison I wouldn't," 
 said Andy to himself; " and, by the powers! I'll pop in a ball onhnownst 
 to him." And, sure enough, Andy contrived, while the seconds were 
 engaged with each other, to put a ball into each pistol before the barrel 
 was loaded with powder, so that, when Dick took up his pistols to load, 
 a bullet lay between the powder and the touch-hole. Now this must 
 have been discovered by Dick, had he been coo] ; but he and Tom Durfy 
 had wrangled very much about the point they had been discussing, and 
 Dick, at no time the quietest person in the world, was in such a rage, 
 that the pistols were loaded by him without noticing Andy's ingenious 
 interference, and he handed a harmless weapon to his brother-in-law 
 when he placed him on his ground. 
 
 The word was given. Murtough, following his friend's advice, fired 
 instantly : bang he went, while the squire returned but a flash in the 
 pan. He turned a look of reproach upon Dick, who took the pistol 
 silently from him, and handed him the other, having carefully looked to 
 the priming, after the accident which happened to the first. 
 
 Durfy handed his man another pistol also ; and, before he left his side, 
 said in a whisper, " Don't forget ; have the first fire." 
 
 Again the word was given : Murphy blazed away a rapid and harm- 
 less shot ; for his hurry was the squire's safety, whiie Andy's murderous 
 intentions were his salvation. 
 
30 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 " D — n the pistol !" said the squire, throwing it down in a rage. Dick 
 took it up with manifest indignation, and d — d the powder. 
 
 " Your powder's damp, Ned." 
 
 " No, it's not," said the squire ; " it's you who have bungled the 
 loading." 
 
 ".Me!" said Dick, with a look of mingled rage and astonishment: 
 " / bungle the loading of pistols ! — /, that have stepped more ground 
 and arranged more affairs than any man in the country ! — Arrah, be 
 aisy, Ned!" 
 
 Tom Durfy now interfered, and said, for the present it was no 
 matter, as, on the part of his friend, he begged to express himself 
 satisfied. 
 
 " But it's very hard we're not to have a shot," said Dick, poking the 
 touch-hole of the pistol with a pricker which he had just taken from the 
 case which Andy was holding before him. 
 
 " Why, my dear Dick," said Durfy, " as Murphy has had two shots, 
 and the squire has not had the return of either, he declares he will not fire 
 at him again ; and, under these circumstances, I must take my man off 
 the ground." 
 
 " Very well," said Dick, still poking the touch-hole, and examining 
 the point of the pricker as he withdrew it. 
 
 " And now Murphy wants to know, since the affair is all over and his 
 honour satisfied, what was your brother-in-law's motive in assaulting 
 him this morning, for he himself cannot conceive a cause for it." 
 
 " Oh, be aisy, Tom." 
 
 " 'Pon my soul, it's true." 
 
 " Why, he sent him a blister, — a regular apothecary's blister, — instead 
 of some law process, by way of a joke, and Ned wouldn't stand it." 
 
 Durfy held a moment's conversation with Murphy, who now advanced 
 to the squire, and begged to assure him there must be some mistake in 
 the business, for that he had never committed the impertinence of which 
 he was accused. 
 
 " All I know is," said the squire, " that I got a blister, which my 
 messenger said you gave him." 
 
 " By virtue of my oath, squire, I never did it ! I gave Andy an 
 enclosure of the law process." 
 
 " Then it's some mistake that vagabond has made," said the squire. 
 " Come here, you sir !" he shouted to Andy, who was trembling under 
 the angry eye of Dick the Devil, who, having detected a bit of lead on 
 the point of the pricker, guessed in a moment Andy had been at work ; 
 and the unfortunate rascal had a misgiving that he had made some 
 blunder, from the furious look of Dick. 
 
 " Why don't you come here when I call you?" said the squire. — Andy 
 laid down the pistol-case, and sneaked up to the squire. — " What did 
 you do with the letter Mr. Murphy gave you for me yesterday?" 
 
 " I brought it to your honour." 
 
 " No, you didn't," said Murphy. " You've made some mistake." 
 
 " Divil a mistake I made," answered Andy very stoutly; " I wint 
 home the minit you gev it to me." 
 
 " Did you go home direct from my house to the squire's ?" 
 
HANDY ANDY. 31 
 
 " Yis, sir, I did: I wint direct home, and called at Mr. M'Garry's by 
 the way for some physic for the childre'. 
 
 " That's it !" said Murtough ; " he changed my enclosure for a blister 
 there ; and if M'Garry has only had the luck to send the bit o' parchment 
 to O'Grady, it will be the best joke I've heard this month of Sundays." 
 
 " He did ! he did!" shouted Tom Durfy ; " for don't you remember 
 how O'Grady was after M'Garry this morning?" 
 
 " Sure enough," said Murtough, enjoying the double mistake. " By 
 dad ! Andy, you've made a mistake this time that I'll forgive you." 
 
 " By the powers o' war!" roared Dick the Devil, " I won't forgive 
 him what he did now, though ! What do you think?" said he, holding 
 out the pistols, and growing crimson with rage : " may I never fire 
 another shot if he hasn't crammed a brace of bullets down the pistols 
 before I loaded them : so no wonder you burned prime, Ned." 
 
 There was a universal laugh at Dick's expense, whose pride in being 
 considered the most accomplished regulator of the duello was well known. 
 
 " Oh, Dick, Dick ! you're a pretty second," was shouted by all. 
 
 Dick, stung by the laughter, and feeling keenly the ridiculous position 
 in which he was placed, made a rush at Andy, who, seeing the storm 
 brewing, gradually sneaked away from the group, and when he perceived 
 the sudden movement of Dick the Devil, took to his heels, with Dick 
 after him. 
 
 " Hurra ! " cried Murphy ; "a race — a race ! I'll bet on Andy — five 
 pounds on Andy." 
 
 " Done !" said the squire ; " I'll back Dick the Divil." 
 
 " Tare an' ouns !" roared Murphy ; " how Andy runs ! Fear's a fine 
 spur." 
 
 " So is rage," said the squire. " Dick's hot-foot after him. Will 
 you double the bet ? " 
 
 " Done ! " said Murphy. 
 
 The infection of betting caught the bystanders, and various gages 
 were thrown down and taken up upon the speed of the runners, who 
 were getting rapidly into the distance, flying over hedge and ditch with 
 surprising velocity, and, from the level nature of the ground an ex- 
 tensive view could not be obtained ; therefore Tom Durfy, the steeple- 
 chaser, cried, " Mount, mount ! or we'll lose the fun : into our saddles, 
 and after them ! " 
 
 Those who had steeds took the hint, and a numerous field of horsemen 
 joined in the chase of Handy Andy and Dick the Devil, who still main- 
 tained great speed. The horsemen made for a neighbouring hill, whence 
 they could command a wider view ; and the betting went on briskly, 
 varying according to the vicissitudes of the race. 
 
 " Two to one on Dick — he's closing." 
 
 " Done ! — Andy will wind him yet." 
 
 " Well done ! — there's a leap ! Hurra ! — Dick's down ! Well done, 
 Dick ! — up again and going." 
 
 " Mind the next quickset hedge — that's a rasper, it's a wide gripe, 
 and the hedge is as thick as a wall — Andy'll stick in it — Mind him ! — ■ 
 Well leap'd, by the powers ! — Ha ! he's sticking in the hedge — Dick'll 
 catch him now. — No, by jingo ! he has pushed his way through — there, 
 
32 HANDY ANDY 
 
 he's going again at the other side. — Ha! ha! ha! ha! look at him — he's 
 in tatthers ! — he has left half of his breeches in the hedge." 
 
 " Dick is over now. — Hurra ! — he has lost the skirt of his coat — Andy 
 is gaining on him. — Two to one on Andy !" 
 
 " Down he goes!" was shouted, as Andy's foot slipped in making a 
 dash at another ditch, into which he went head over heels, and Dick 
 followed fast, and disappeared after him. 
 
 " Ride ! ride !" shouted Tom Durfy ; and the horsemen put their 
 spurs in the flanks of their steeds, and were soon up to the scene of 
 action. There was Andy, roaring murder, rolling over and over in the 
 muddy bottom of a deep ditch, floundering in rank weeds and duck's meat, 
 with Dick fastened on him, pummelling away most unmercifully, but not 
 able to kill him altogether, for want of breath. 
 
 The horsemen, in a universal screech of laughter, dismounted, and 
 disengaged the unfortunate Andy from the fangs of Dick the Devil, who 
 was dragged from out of the ditch much more like a scavenger than a 
 gentleman. 
 
 The moment Andy got loose, away he ran again, with a rattling 
 " Tally ho !" after him, and he never cried stop till he earthed himself 
 under his mother's bed in the parent cabin. 
 
 Murtough Murphy characteristically remarked, that the affair of the 
 day had taken a very whimsical turn : — " Here are you and I, squire, 
 who went out to shoot each other, safe and well, while one of the 
 seconds has come off rather worse for the wear ; and a poor devil, who 
 had nothing to say to the matter in hand, good, bad, or indifferent, is 
 nearly killed." 
 
 The squire and Murtough then shook hands, and parted friends in 
 half an hour after they had met as foes ; and even Dick contrived to 
 forget his annoyance in an extra stoup of claret that day after dinner, — 
 filling more than one bumper in drinking confusion to Handy Andy, 
 which seemed a rather unnecessary malediction. 
 
//J //.//,/// t ■ , ■ //// 
 

HANDY ANDY. 33 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 After the friendly parting of the foes {pro tempore), there was a 
 general scatter of the party who had come to see the duel ; and how 
 strange is the fact, that, much as human nature is prone to shudder at 
 death under the gentlest circumstances, yet men will congregate to be 
 its witnesses, when violence aggravates the calamity ! A public execu- 
 tion or a duel is a focus where burning curiosity concentrates : in the 
 latter case, Ireland bears the palm, for a crowd ; in the former, the 
 annals of the Old Baily can amply testify. Ireland has its own interest, 
 too, in a place of execution, but not in the same degree as England. 
 They have been too used to hanging in Ireland, to make it piquant : 
 " toujours perdrix " is a saying which applies in this as in many other 
 cases. The gallows, in its palmy days, was shorn of its terrors ; it 
 became rather a pastime. For the victim, it was a pastime, with a 
 vengeance ; — for, through it, all time was past with him. For the 
 rabble who beheld his agony, the frequency of the sight had blunted 
 the edge of horror, and only sharpened that of unnatural excitement. 
 The great school, where law should be the respected master, failed to 
 inspire its intended awe ; — the legislative lesson became a mockery ; 
 and death, instead of frowning with terror, grinned in a fool's cap from 
 the scaffold. 
 
 This may be doubted now, when a milder spirit presides in the 
 councils of the nation and on the bench ; but those who remember Ire- 
 land not very long ago, can bear witness how lightly life was valued or 
 death regarded. — Illustrative of this, one may refer to the story of the 
 two basket- women, in Dublin, who held gentle converse on the subject 
 of an approaching execution. 
 
 " Won't you go see de man die to-morrow, Judy ? " 
 
 " Oh no, darlin'," said Judy ; — by the bye, Judy pronounced the n 
 through her nose, and said, " do." 
 
 " Ah do, jewel," said her friend. 
 
 Judy again responded, — " do." 
 
 " And why won't you go, dear ?" inquired her friend again. 
 
 " I've to wash de child," said Judy. 
 
 " Sure, didn't you wash it last week?" said her friend in an expos- 
 tulatory tone. 
 
 " Oh, well, I won't go," said Judy. 
 
 " Throth, Judy, you're ruinin' your health," said this soft-hearted 
 acquaintance ; " dere's a man to die to-morrow, and you won't come — 
 augh !— you rfever take do divarshin ! " 
 
 And wherefore is it thus r "Why should tears bedew the couch of 
 
34 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 him who dies in the bosom of his family, surrounded by those who love 
 him, whose pillow is smoothed by the hand of filial piety,, whose past is 
 without reproach, and whose future is bright with hope ; — and why 
 should dry eyes behold the duellist or the culprit, in whom folly or 
 guilt may be the cause of a death on which the seal of censure or 
 infamy may be set, and whose futurity we must tremble to consider ? 
 With more reason might we weep for the fate of either of the latter than 
 the former, and yet we do not. And why is it so ? — If I may venture 
 an opinion, it is that nature is violated : a natural death demands and 
 receives the natural tribute of tears ; but a death of violence falls with 
 a stunning force upon the nerves, and the fountain of pity stagnates and 
 will not flow. 
 
 Though there was a general scattering of the persons who came to 
 see the duel, still a good many rode homeward with Murphy, who with 
 his second, Tom Durfy, beside him, headed the party, as they rode 
 gaily towards the town, and laughed over the adventure of Andy and 
 Dick. 
 
 ' No one can tell how anything is to finish," said Tom Durfy ; 
 " here' we came out to have a duel, and, in the end, it turned out a 
 hunt." 
 
 " I'm glad you were not in at my death, however," said Murphy, who 
 seemed particularly happy at not being killed. 
 
 " You lost no time in firing, Murtough," said one of his friends. 
 
 " And small blame to me, Billy," answered Murphy ; " Egan is a 
 capital shot, and how did I know but he might take it into his head to 
 shoot me ? for he's very hot, when roused, though as good-natured a 
 fellow, in the main, as ever broke bread ; and yet I don't think, after all, 
 he'd have liked to do me much mischief either ; but you see he couldn't 
 stand the joke he thought I played him." 
 
 " Will you tell us what it was ?" cried another of the party, pressing 
 forward, "for we can't make it out exactly, though we've heard some- 
 thing of it : — wasn't it leeches you sent to him, telling him he was a 
 blood-sucking villain ? " 
 
 A roar of laughter from Murtough followed this question. " Lord, 
 how a story gets mangled and twisted," said he, as soon as he could 
 speak. " Leeches ! — what an absurdity ! — no — it was — " 
 
 " A bottle of castor oil, wasn't it, by way of a present of noyau ? " 
 said another of the party, hurrying to the front to put forward his 
 version of the matter. 
 
 A second shout of laughter from Murphy greeted this third edition 
 of the story. " If you will listen to me, I'll give you the genuine 
 version," said Murtough, " which is better, I promise you, than any 
 which invention could supply. The fact is, Squire Egan is engaged 
 against O'Grady, and applied to me to harass him in the parchment 
 line, swearing he would blister him ; and this phrase of blistering 
 occurred so often, that when I sent him over a bit o' parchment, which 
 he engaged to have served on my bold O'Grady, I wrote to him, 
 " Dear Squire, I send you the blister ;" and that most ingenious of all 
 blunderers, Handy Andy, being the bearer, and calling at M'Garry's 
 fhop on his way home, picked up from the counter a real blister, which 
 
HANDY ANDY. 35 
 
 was folded up in an enclosure, something like the process, and left the 
 law-stinger behind him. 
 
 " That's grate," cried Doyle. 
 
 " Oh, but you have not heard the best of it yet," added Murphy. 
 " I am certain the bit of parchment was sent to O'Grady, for he was 
 hunting M'Garry this morning through the town, with a cudgel of por- 
 tentous dimension — put that and that together." 
 
 " No mistake !" cried Doyle ;" and divil pity O'Grady, for he's a 
 blustering, swaggering, overbearing, ill-tempered " — 
 
 " Hillo, hillo, Bill," interrupted Murphy, " you are too hard on the 
 adjectives ; besides, you'll spoil your appetite if you ruffle your temper ; 
 and that would fret me, for I intend you to dine with me to-day." 
 
 "Faith an' I'll do that same, Murtough, my boy, and glad to be 
 asked, as the old maid said." 
 
 " I'll tell you all what it is," said Murphy. " Boys, you must all 
 dine with me to-day, and drink long life to me since I'm not killed." 
 
 " There are seventeen of us," said Durfy ; "the little parlour won't 
 hold us all." 
 
 " But isn't there a big room at the inn, Tom 1 " returned Murphy, 
 " and not better drink in Ireland than Mrs. Fay's. What do you say, 
 lads, one and all — will you dine with me ?" 
 
 "Will a duck swim?" chuckled out Jack Horan, an oily veteran, 
 who seldom opened his mouth but to put something into it, and spared 
 his words, as if they were of value ; and to make them appear so, he 
 spoke in apophthegms. 
 
 " What say you, James Reddy ?" said Murtough. 
 
 " Beady, sure enough, and willing too !" answered James, who was 
 a small wit, and made the aforesaid play upon his name, at least three 
 hundred and sixty-five times every year. 
 
 " Oh, we'll all come," was uttered right and left. 
 
 "Good men and true!" shouted Murphy; "won't we make the 
 rafters shake, and turn the cellar inside out ! — whoo ! I'm in great heart 
 to-day. But who is this powdhering up the road ? by the powers, 'tis 
 the doctor, I think ; 'tis — I know his bandy hat over the cloud of dust." 
 
 The individual, thus designated as the doctor, now emerged from the 
 obscurity in which he had been enveloped, and was received with a loud 
 shout by the whole cavalcade as he approached them. Both parties 
 drew rein ; and the doctor, lifting from his head the aforesaid bandy hat, 
 which was slouched over one eye, with a sinister droop, made a low 
 obeisance to Murphy, and said with a mock solemnity, " Your servant, 
 sir — and so you're not killed ? " 
 
 " No," said Murphy ; " and you've lost a job, which I see you came 
 to look for ; but you're not to have the carving of me yet." 
 
 " Considering it's so near Michaelmas, I think you've had a great 
 escape, signor," returned the doctor. 
 
 " Sure enough," said Murphy, laughing ; " but you're late, this time ; 
 so you must turn back, and content yourself with carving something 
 more innocent than an attorney, to-day — though at an attorney's cost. 
 You must dine with me." 
 
 " Willingly, signor," said the doctor; "but pray don't make use of 
 
 d 2 
 
36 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 the word ' cost.' I hate to hear it out of an attorney's mouth — or bill, 
 I should say." 
 
 A laugh followed the doctor's pleasantry, but no smile appeared upon 
 his countenance ; for though uttering quaint, and often very good, but 
 oftener very bitter things, he never moved a muscle of his face, while 
 others were shaking their sides at his sallies. He was, in more ways 
 than one, a remarkable man. A massive head, large and rather pro- 
 truding eyes, lank hair, slouching ears, a short neck and broad shoulders, 
 rather inclined to stooping ; a long body, and short legs slightly bowed, 
 constituted his outward man ; and a lemon-coloured complexion, which 
 a residence of some years in the East Indies had produced, did not tend 
 to increase his beauty. His mind displayed a superior intelligence, 
 original views, contempt of received opinions, with a power of satire 
 and ridicule, which rendered him a pleasing friend or a dangerous 
 enemy, as the case might be ; though, to say the truth, friend and foe 
 were treated with nearly equal severity, if a joke or a sarcasm tempted 
 the assault. His own profession hated him ; for he unsparingly ridiculed 
 all stale practice, which his conviction led him to believe was inefficient, 
 and he daringly introduced fresh, to the no small indignation of the 
 more cut and dry portion of the faculty, for whose hate he returned 
 contempt, of which he made no secret. From an extreme coarseness 
 of manner, even those who believed in his skill were afraid to trust to 
 his humour ; and the dislike of his brother practitioners to meet him, 
 superadded to this, damaged his interest considerably, and prevented his 
 being called in until extremed anger frightened patients, or their friends, 
 into sending for Doctor Growling. His carelessness in dress, too, in- 
 spired disgust in the fair portion of the creation ; and " snuffy," and 
 " dirty," and " savage," and " brute," were among the sweet words they 
 applied to him. 
 
 Nevertheless, those who loved a joke more than they feared a hit, 
 would run the risk of an occasional thrust of the doctor's stiletto, for the 
 sake of enjoying the mangling he gave other people ; and such rollicking 
 fellows as Murphy, and Durfy, and Dawson, and Squire Egan, petted 
 this social hedgehog. 
 
 The doctor now turned his horse's head, and joined the cavalcade to 
 the town. " I have blown my Rozinante," said he, " I was in such a 
 
 hurry to see the fun. 
 
 " Yes," said Murphy, " he smokes." 
 
 " And his master takes snuff," said the doctor, suiting the action to 
 
 the word. " I suppose, signor, you were thinking a little while ago 
 
 that the squire might serve an ejectment on your vitality ?" 
 
 " Or that in the trial between us I might get damages," said 
 
 Murphy. 
 
 " There is a difference, in such case," said the doctor, " between a 
 
 court of law, and the court of honour ; for, in the former, the man is 
 
 plaintiff, before he gets his damages, while in the latter, it is after he 
 
 gets his damages that he complains." 
 
 " I'm glad my term is not ended, however," said Murphy. 
 
 " If it had been," said the doctor, " I think you'd have had a long 
 
 vacation in limbo." 
 
HANDY ANDY. 37 
 
 " And suppose I had been hit," said Murphy, " you would have been 
 late on the ground. You're a pretty friend !" 
 
 " It's my luck, sir," said the doctor. " I'm always late for a job. 
 By the bye, I'll tell you an amusing fact of that musty piece of humanity, 
 Miss Jinkins. Her niece was dangerously ill, and she had that licensed 
 slaughterer from Killanmaul, trying to tinker her up, till the poor girl 
 was past all hope, and then she sends for me. She swore, some time 
 ago, I should never darken her doors, but when she began to 
 apprehend that death was rather a darker gentleman than me, she 
 tolerated my person. The old crocodile met me in the hall ; — by the 
 bye, did you ever remark she's like a crocodile — only not with so pleasing 
 an expression ? — and wringing her hands, she cried, ' Oh, doctor, I'll be 
 bound to you for ever ;' — I hope not, thought I to myself, — ' Save my 
 Jemima, doctor, and there's nothing I won't do to prove my gratitude.' 
 ' Is she long ill, ma'am V said I. ' A fortnight, doctor.' — ' I wish I 
 had been called in sooner, ma'am,' says I, — for, 'pon my conscience, 
 Murphy, it is too ridiculous the way people go on about me. I verily 
 believe they think I can raise people out of their graves ; and they call 
 me in to repair the damages disease and the doctors have been making ; 
 and while the gentlemen in black silk stockings, with gold-headed canes, 
 have been fobbing fees for three weeks, perhaps, they call in poor Jack 
 Growling, who scorns jack-a- dandyism, and he gets a solitary guinea 
 for mending the bungling that cost something to the tune of twenty or 
 thirty, perhaps. And when I have plucked them from the jaws of 
 death, — regularly cheated the sexton out of them, — the best word they 
 have for me is to call me a pig, or abuse my boots ; or wonder the doctor 
 is not more particular about his linen — the fools ! But to return to my 
 gentle crocodile. I was shown up stairs to the sick room, and there, 
 sir, I saw the unfortunate girl, speechless, at the last gasp, absolutely. 
 The Killanmaul dandy had left her to die — absolutely given her up ; 
 and then, indeed, I'm sent for ! Well, I was in a rage, and was rushing 
 out of the house, when the crocodile waylaid me in the hall. ' Oh, 
 doctor, won't you do something for my Jemima V 'I can't, ma'am,' 
 says I ; ' but Mister Fogarty can.' ' Mister Fogarty !' says she. 'Yes, 
 ma'am,' says I. ' You have mistaken my profession, Miss Jinkins — 
 I'm a doctor, ma'am ; but I suppose you took me for the undertaker.'" 
 
 " Well, you hit her hard, doctor," said Murphy. 
 
 " Sir, you might as well hit a rhinoceros," returned the doctor. 
 
 " When shall we dine ?" asked Jack Horan. 
 
 " As soon as Mrs. Fay can let us have the eatables," answered Murphy; 
 " and, by the bye, Jack, I leave the ordering of the dinner to you ; for 
 no man understands better how to do that same ; besides, I want to 
 leave my horse in my own stable, and I'll be up at the inn, after you, 
 in a brace of shakes." 
 
 The troop now approached the town. Those who lived there rode 
 to their own stables, and returned to the party at Mrs. Fay's ; while they 
 who resided at a distance dismounted at the door of the inn, which 
 soon became a scene of bustle in all its departments, from this large 
 influx of guests and the preparation for the dinner, exceeding in scale 
 what Mrs. Fay was generally called upon to provide, except when the 
 
38 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 assizes, or races, or other such cause of commotion, demanded all the 
 resources of her establishment, and more, if she had them. So the 
 Dinnys, and the Tims, and the Mickeys, were rubbing down horses, 
 cleaning knives, or drawing forth extra tables from their dusty repose ; 
 and the Biddys, and Judys, and Nellys, were washing up plates, scouring 
 pans, and brightening up extra candlesticks, or doing deeds of doom in 
 the poultry yard, where an audible commotion gave token of the pre- 
 mature deaths of sundry supernumerary chickens. 
 
 Murphy soon joined his guests, grinning from ear to ear, and rubbing 
 his hands as he entered. 
 
 " Great news, boys," said he, — " who do you think was at my house 
 when I got home, but M'Garry, with his head bandaged up, and his 
 whole body, as he declares, bearing black and blue testimony to the 
 merciless attack of the bold O'Grady, against whom he swears he'll 
 bring an action for assault and battery. Now, boys, I thought it would 
 be great fun to have him here to dinner, — it's as good as a play to hear 
 him describe the thrashing, — so I asked him to come. He said he was 
 not in a fit state to dine out, but I egged him on, by saying that a 
 sight of him in his present plight would excite sympathy for him, and 
 stir up public feeling against O'Grady, and that all would tell in the 
 action, as most likely some of the present company might be on the 
 jury, and would be the better able to judge how far he was entitled to 
 damages, from witnessing the severity of the injury he had received. 
 So he's coming ; and mind, you must all be deeply affected at his suf- 
 ferings, and impressed with the powerful description he gives of the 
 same." 
 
 " Very scientific, of course," said old Growling. 
 
 " Extensively so," returned Murphy; "he laid on the Latin, heavy." 
 
 " Yes — the fool," growled the doctor ; " he can't help sporting it, 
 even on me ; I went into his shop one day, and asked for some opium 
 wine ; and he could not resist calling it vinum opii as he handed it to 
 me." 
 
 " We'll make him a martyr !" cried Durfy. 
 
 " We'll make him dhrunk," said Jack Horan, " and that will be 
 better — he brags that he never was what he calls ' inebriated' in his life ; 
 and it will be great fun to send him home on a door, with a note to his 
 wife, who is proud of his propriety." 
 
 As they spoke, M'Garry entered, his head freshly bound up, to look 
 as genteel as possible amongst the gentlemen with whom he was to have 
 the honour of dining. His wife had suggested a pink ribbon, but 
 M'Garry, while he acknowledged his wife's superior taste, said black 
 would look more professional. The odd fellows, to whom he had now 
 committed himself, crowded round him, and in the most exaggerated 
 phrases, implied the high sense they entertained of his wrongs, and 
 O'Grady's aggression. 
 
 " Unprovoked attack !" cried one. 
 
 " Savage ruffian!'' ejaculated another. 
 
 " What atrocity!" said a third. 
 
 " What dignified composure !" added a fourth, in an audible whisper 
 meant for M 'Garry's ear. 
 
HANDY ANDY. 39 
 
 " Gentlemen !" said the apothecar) r , flurried at the extreme attention 
 of which he became the object, " I beg to assure you I am deeply — ■ 
 
 that is this proof of — of — of — of symptoms — gentlemen — I mean 
 
 sympathy, gentlemen — in short, I really — " 
 
 " The fact is," said Growling, " I see Mr. M'Garry is rather shaken 
 in nerve — whether from loss of blood, or — " 
 
 " I have lost a quantity of blood, doctor," said M 'Garry ; " much 
 vascular, — to say nothing of extravasated." 
 
 " Which I'll state in my case," said Murphy — 
 
 " Murphy, don't interrupt," said Growling ; who, with a very grave 
 face, recommenced, — " Gentlemen, from the cause already stated, t see 
 Mr. M'Garry is not prepared to answer the out-pouring of feeling with 
 which you have greeted him, and if I might be permitted — " 
 Every one shouted, " Certainly — certainly." 
 
 " Then, as I am permitted, I will venture to respond for Mr. M'Garry, 
 and address you, as he would address you. In the words of Mister 
 M'Garry, I would say, — Gentlemen — unaccustomed as I am — " 
 
 Some smothered laughter followed this beginning — upon which the 
 doctor, with a mock gravity proceeded — 
 
 " Gentlemen, this interruption I conceive to be an infringement on 
 the liberty of the subject. I recommence, therefore, in the words of 
 my honourable and wounded friend, and our honourable and wounded 
 feelings, and say — as my friend would say, or, to speak classically, 
 M'Garry loquitur — " 
 
 The apothecary bowed his head to the bit of Latin, and the doctor 
 continued. 
 
 " Gentlemen unaccustomed as I am to public thrashing, you can 
 
 conceive what my feelings are at the present moment, in mind and body. 
 [Bravo.] You behold an outrage [much confusion] ; shall an exag- 
 gerated savagery like this escape punishment, and ' the calm sequestered 
 vale' j(as the poet calls it) of private life, be ravaged with impunity? 
 [Bravo! bravo !] Are the learned professions to be trampled under- 
 foot by barbarian ignorance and brutality ? No ; I read in the indig- 
 nant looks of my auditory their high-souled answers. Gentlemen, your 
 sympathy is better than dyachylon to my wounds, and this is the 
 proudest day of my life." 
 
 Thunders of applause followed the doctor's address, and every one 
 shook M'Garry's hand, till his bruised bones ached again. Questions 
 poured upon him from all sides as to the nature and quantity of his 
 drubbing, to all which M'Garry innocently answered in terms of ex- 
 aggeration, spiced with scientific phrases. Muscles, tendons, bones, and 
 sinews, were particularized with the precision of an anatomical demon- 
 stration ; he swore he was pulverized, and paralyzed, and all the other 
 lies he could think of." 
 
 " A large stick, you say?" said Murphy. 
 
 " Sir ! I never saw such a stick — 'twas like a weaver's beam." 
 " I'll make a note of that," said Murphy, " a weaver's beam — 'twill 
 tell well with a jury." 
 
 " And beat you all over ?" said Durfy. 
 
 " From shoulder to flank, sir, I am one mass of welts and weals; the 
 
40 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 abrasures are extensive, the bruises terrific, particularly in the lumbar 
 region." 
 
 " Where's that ?" asked Jack Horan, 
 
 " The lumbar region is what is commonly called the loins, sir." 
 
 " Not always," said the doctor. " It varies in different subjects : 
 I have known some people whose lumber region lay in the head." 
 
 M You laugh, gentlemen," said M'Garry, with a mournful smile, " but 
 you know the doctor — he will be jocular." He then continued to 
 describe the various other regions of his injuries, amidst the well-acted 
 pity and indignation of the queer fellows who drew him out, until they 
 were saturated, so far, with the fun of the subject. After which, Murphy, 
 whose restless temperament could never let him be quiet for a moment, 
 suggested that they should divert themselves before dinner with a 
 badger fight. 
 
 " Isn't one fight a day enough for you, signor ?" said the doctor. 
 
 " It is not every day we get a badger, you know," said Murphy ; " and 
 I heard just now from Tim the waiter that there is a horse dealer lately 
 arrived at the stables here, who has a famous one with him, and I know 
 Reilly the butcher has two or three capital dogs, and there's a wicked 
 mastiff below stairs, and I'll send for my ' buffer,' and we'll have some 
 spanking sport." 
 
 He led his guests then to the inn yard, and the horse dealer, for a 
 consideration, allowed his badger to wage battle ; the noise of the affair 
 spread through the town, while they were making their arrangements, 
 and sending right and left for dogs for the contest ; and a pretty consi- 
 derable crowd soon assembled at the place of action, where the hour 
 before dinner was spent in the intellectual amusement of a badger- 
 fight. 
 
 . 
 
 w^r 
 
 \ 
 
HANDY ANDY. 41 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 The fierce yells of the badger fight, ringing far and wide, soon 
 attracted a crowd, which continued to increase every minute by instal- 
 ments of men and boys, who might be seen running across a small field 
 by the road side, close to the scene of action, which lay at the back of 
 the inn ; and heavy-caped and skirted frieze coats streamed behind the 
 full grown, while the rags of the gossoons* fluttered in the race. 
 Attracted by this evidence of " something going on," a horseman who 
 was approaching the town, urged his horse to speed, and turning his 
 head towards a yawning double ditch that divided the road from the 
 field, he gracefully rode the noble animal over the spanking leap. 
 
 The rider was Edward O'Connor; and he was worthy of his name — 
 the pure blood of that royal race was in his heart, which never har- 
 boured a sentiment that could do it dishonour, and overflowed with 
 feelings which ennoble human nature, and make us proud of our kind. 
 He was young and handsome ; and as he sat his mettled horse, no lady 
 could deny that Edward O'Connor was the very type of the gallant 
 cavalier. Though attached to every manly sport and exercise, his mind 
 was of a refined order ; and a youth passed amidst books and some of 
 the loveliest scenery of Ireland had nurtured the poetic feeling with 
 which his mind was gifted, and which found its vent in many a love- 
 taught lyric, or touching ballad, or spirit-stirring song whose theme was 
 national glory. To him the bygone days of his country's history were 
 dear, made more familiar by many an antique relic which hung around 
 his own room, in his father's house. Celt, and sword, and spear-head 
 of Phoenician bronze, and golden gorget, and silver bodkin, and ancient 
 harp, and studded crozier, were there ; and these time-worn evidences 
 of arts, and arms, and letters, flattered the affection with which he 
 looked back on the ancient history of Ireland, and kept alive the ardent 
 love of his country with which he glowed, — a love too deep, too pure, 
 to be likely to expire, even without the aid of such poetic sources of 
 excitement. To him the names of Fitzgerald, and Desmond, and 
 Tyrone, were dear ; and there was no romantic legend of the humbler 
 outlaws with which he was not familiar ; and " Charley of the Horses," 
 and " Ned of the Hill,'' but headed the list of names he loved to recall ; 
 and the daring deeds of bold spirits who held the hill side for liberty 
 were often given in words of poetic fire from the lips of Edward 
 O'Connor. 
 
 And yet Edward O'Connor went to see the badger fight. 
 
 There is something inherent in man's nature, urging him to familiarize 
 himself with cruelty ; and perhaps, without such a power of witnessing 
 savage deeds, he would be unequal to the dominion for which he was 
 
 * Boys. 
 
4M HANDY ANDY. 
 
 designed. Men of the highest order of intellect the world has known have 
 loved the chase. How admirably Scott displays this tendency of noble 
 minds, in the meeting of Ellen with her father, when Douglas says — 
 
 " The chase I followed far ; 
 'Tis mimicry of noble war." 
 
 And the effect of this touch of character is heightened by Douglas, in a 
 subsequent scene — Douglas, who could enjoy the sport which ends in 
 death, bending over his gentle child, and dropping tears of the tenderest 
 affection ; tears, which 
 
 " Would not stain an angel's cheek." 
 
 Superadded to this natural tendency, Edward O'Connor had an 
 additional motive. He lived amongst a society of sporting men, less 
 cultivated than he was, whose self-esteem would have easily ignited to 
 the spark of jealousy, if he had seemed to scorn the things which made 
 their principal enjoyment, and formed the chief occupation of their 
 lives ; and his good sense and good heart (and there is an intimate con- 
 nexion between them) pointed out to him, that wherever your lot is 
 cast, duty to yourself and others suggests the propriety of adapting 
 your conduct to the circumstances in which you are placed (so long 
 as morality and decency are not violated), and that the manifestation of 
 one's own superiority may render the purchase too dear, ' by being 
 bought at the terrible price of our neighbour's dislike. He therefore 
 did not tell every body he wrote verses ; he kept the gift as secret as he 
 could. If an error, however gross, on any subject, were made in his 
 presence, he never took willing notice of it; or if circumstances obliged 
 him to touch upon it, it was always done with a politeness and tact that 
 afforded the blunderer the means of retreat. If some gross historical 
 error, for instance, happened to be committed in a conversation with 
 himself (and then only), he would set the mistake right, as a matter of 
 conscience, but he would do so by saying there was a great similarity 
 between the event spoken of and some other event. " I know what 
 you are thinking of," he would say, " but you make a slight mistake in 
 the dates ; the two stories are very similar, and likely to mislead one." 
 
 But with all this modest reserve, did the least among his companions 
 think him less clever ? No. It was shrewdly suspected he was a poet; 
 it was well known he was highly educated and accomplished ; and yet 
 Edward O'Connor was a universal favourite, bore the character of being 
 a " real fine fellow," and was loved and respected by the most illiterate 
 of the young men of the country ; who, in allusion to his extensive lore 
 on the subject of the legendary heroes of the romantic history of Ireland, 
 his own christian name, and his immediate place of residence, which 
 was near a wild mountain pass, christened him " Ned of the Hill." 
 
 His appearance amidst the crowd assembled to witness the rude 
 sport was hailed with pleasure, — varying from the humble, but affec- 
 tionate respect of the peasant, who cried " Long life to you, Misther 
 O'Connor," to the hearty burst of equality, which welcomed him as 
 " Ned of the Hill." 
 
 The fortune of the fight favoured the badger, who proved himself a 
 trump ; and Murphy appreciated his worth so highly, that, when the 
 
HANDY ANDY. 43 
 
 battle was over, he would not quit the ground until he became his 
 owner, at a high price to the horse dealer. His next move was to 
 insist on Edward O'Connor dining with him ; and Edward, after many- 
 excuses to avoid the party he foresaw would be a drinking bout (of 
 which he had a special horror, notwithstanding all his toleration), 
 yielded to the entreaties of Murphy, and consented to be his guest, just 
 as Tim, the waiter, ran up, steaming from every pore, to announce that 
 the dinner was " ready to be sarved." 
 
 " Then sarve it, sir," said Murphy, " and sarve it right." 
 Off cantered Tim, steaming and snorting like a locomotive engine, 
 and the party followed to the inn, where a long procession of dish 
 bearers was ascending the stairs to the big room, as Murphy and his 
 friends entered. 
 
 The dinner it is needless to describe. One dinner is the same as 
 another in the most essential points, namely, to satisfy hunger and slake 
 consequent thirst ; and whether beef and cabbage, and heavy wet, are 
 to conquer the dragon of appetite, or your stomach is to sustain the more 
 elaborate attack fired from the batterie de cuisine of a finished artiste, 
 and moistened with champagne, the difference is only of degree in the 
 fashion of the thing and the tickling of the palate : — hunger is as tho- 
 roughly satisfied with the one as the other ; and head-aches as well 
 manufactured out of the beautiful bright and taper glasses which bear 
 the foam of France to the lip, as from the coarse flat-bottomed tumblers 
 of an inn that reek with punch. At the dinner, there was the same 
 tender solicitude on the part of the carvers as to " Where would you like 
 it?"— and the same carelessness on the part of those whom they 
 questioned, who declared they had no choice, " but, if there was a little 
 bit near the shank," &c. — or, " if there was a liver wing to spare" By 
 the way, some carvers there are who push an aspirant's patience too 
 far. I have seen some, who, after giving away both wings, and all the 
 breast, two sidebones, and the short legs, meet the eager look of the 
 fifth man on their left with a smile, and ask him, with an effrontery 
 worthy of the Old Bailey, " has he any choice ? " and, at the same time, 
 toss a drum-stick on the destined plate, or boldly attempt to divert his 
 melancholy with a merry-thought. All this, and more, was there at 
 Murtough Murphy's dinner, long memorable in the country from a 
 frolic that wound up the evening, which soon began to warm, after 
 the cloth was removed, into the sort of thing commonly known by 
 the name of a jollification. But before the dinner was over, poor 
 M'Garry was nearly pickled : Jack Horan, having determined to make 
 him drunk, arranged a system of attack on M'Garry's sobriety which 
 bade defiance to his prudence to withstand. It was agreed that every 
 one should ask the apothecary to take wine ; and he, poor innocent man, 
 when gentlemen whom he had never had the honour to meet at dinner 
 before addressed him with a winning smile, and said, " Mr. M'Garry — ■ 
 will you do me the honour?" could not do less than fill his glass every 
 time ; so that, to use Jack Horan's own phrase, the apothecary was 
 " sewed up" before he had any suspicion of the fact ; and, unused to the 
 indications of approaching vinous excitement, he supposed it was the 
 delightful society made him so hilarious, and he began to launch forth 
 
44 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 after dinner in a manner quite at variance with the reserve he usually 
 maintained in the presence of his superiors, and talked largely. Now, 
 M'Garry's principal failing was to endeavour to make himself appear 
 very learned in his profession ; and every new discovery in chemistry, 
 operation in surgery, or scientific experiment he heard of, he was prone 
 to shove in, head and shoulders, in his soberest moments : but now that 
 he was half-drunk, he launched forth on the subject of galvanism, having 
 read of some recent wonderful effects produced on the body of a certain 
 murderer who was hanged and given over to the College of Surgeons 
 in Dublin. To impress the company still more with a sense of his 
 learning, he addressed Growling on the subject, and' the doctor played 
 him off to advantage. 
 
 " Don't you consider it very wonderful, doctor?" inquired M'Garry, 
 ' speaking somewhat thickly. 
 
 " Very ! " answered the doctor drily. 
 
 " They say, sir, the man- — that is, the subject, when under the in- 
 fluence of the battery — absolutely twiddled his left foot, and' raised his 
 right arm." 
 
 " And raised it to some purpose, too," said the doctor, " for he 
 raised a contusion on the Surgeon-General's eye, having hit him over 
 the same." 
 
 " Dear me! — I did not hear that." 
 
 " It is true, however," said the doctor ; " and that gives you an idea 
 of the power of the galvanic influence, for you know the Surgeon-General 
 is a powerful man, and yet he could not hold him down." 
 
 *' Wonderful!" hiccupped M'Garry. 
 
 " But that's nothing to what happened in London. They expe- 
 rimented there, the other day, with a battery of such power, that the 
 man who was hanged absolutely jumped up, seized a scalpel from the 
 table, and making a rush on the assembled Faculty of London, cleared 
 the theatre in less than no time — dashed into the hall, stabbed the 
 porter who attempted to stop him, made a chevy down the south side of 
 Leicester-square ; and as he reached the corner, a woman, who was 
 carrying tracts published by the Society for the Suppression of Vice, 
 shrieked at beholding a man in so startling a condition, and fainted ; — 
 he, with a presence of mind perfectly admirable, whipped the cloak 
 from her back, and threw it round him ; and scudding through the tor- 
 tuous alleys which abound in that neighbourhood, he made his way to 
 the house where the learned Society of the Noviomagians hold their 
 convivial meetings, and telling the landlord he was invited there to 
 dinner as a curiosity, he gained admittance, and, it is supposed, took 
 his opportunity for escaping, for he has not since been heard of." 
 
 " Good heaven!" gasped M'Garry; "and do you believe that, doctor?" 
 
 " Most firmly, sir ! My belief is that galvanism is, in fact, the ori- 
 ginal principle of vitality." 
 
 " Should we not rejoice, doctor," cried M'Garry, " at this triumph of 
 science ? " 
 
 "I don't think you should, Mister M'Garry," said the doctor, gravely, 
 " for it would utterly destroy your branch of the profession : — pharma- 
 copolists, instead of compounding medicine, must compound with their 
 
HANDY ANDY. 45 
 
 creditors; they are utterly ruined. Mercury is no longer in the ascen- 
 dant; — all doctors have to do now is to carry a small battery about 
 them, a sort of galvanic pocket pistol, I may say, and restore the vital 
 principle by its application." 
 
 "You are not serious, doctor," said M'Garry, becoming very serious, 
 with that wise look so peculiar to drunken men. 
 
 " Never more serious in my life, sir." 
 
 "That would be dreadful!" said M'Garry. 
 
 "Shocking, you mean," said the doctor. 
 
 " Leave off your confounded scientifics, there," shouted Murphy from 
 •Ihe head of the table, "and let us have a song." 
 
 "I can't sing, indeed, Mister Murphy," said M'Garry, who became 
 more intoxicated every moment ; for he continued to drink, having once 
 overstepped the boundary which custom had prescribed to him. 
 
 "I didn't ask you, man," said Murphy; "but my darling fellow, 
 Ned here, will gladden our hearts and ears with a stave." 
 
 "Bravo!" was shouted round the table, trembling under the "thun- 
 ders of applause," with which heavy hands made it ring again: — and 
 "Ned of the Hill!'' — "Ned of the Hill!" was vociferated with many a 
 hearty cheer about the board that might indeed be called "festive." 
 
 "Well," said O'Connor, "since you call- upon me in the name of 
 Ned of the Hill, I'll give you a song under that very title. Here's Ned 
 of the Hill's own shout ;" and in a rich, manly voice, he sang, with the 
 fire of a bard, these lines : — 
 
 mt &&oui of Nrtr of tfje $^tU* 
 i. 
 
 The hill ! the hill ! with its sparkling rill, 
 
 And its dawning air so light and pure, 
 w here the morning's eye scorns the mists that lie 
 
 On the drowsy valley and the moor. 
 Here, with the eagle I rise betimes ; 
 
 Here, with the eagle my state I keep ; 
 The first we see of the morning sun, 
 
 And his last as he sets o'er the deep ; 
 And there, while strife is rife below, 
 
 Here from the tyrant I am free : 
 Let shepherd slaves the valley praise, 
 
 But the hill !— the hill for me ! 
 
 ii. 
 
 The baron below in his castle dwells, 
 
 And his garden boasts the costly rose ; 
 But mine is the keep of the mountain steep, 
 
 Where the matchless wild flower freely blows ! 
 Let him fold his sheep, and his harvest reap, — 
 
 I look down from my mountain throne ; 
 And I choose and pick of the flock and the rick, 
 
 And what is his I can make my own ! 
 Let the valley grow in its wealth below, 
 
 And the lord keep his high degree ; 
 But higher am I in my liberty — 
 
 The hill!— the hill for me! 
 
 * The songs in this work will be published by Duff and Hodgson, 65, Oxford-street. 
 
46 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 W " v 
 
 O'Connor's song was greeted with what the music publishers are 
 pleased to designate, on their title-pages, "distinguished applause ;" and 
 his "health and song" were filled to and drunk with enthusiasm. 
 
 " Whose lines are these ?" asked the doctor. 
 
 "I don't know," said O'Connro. 
 
 " That's as much as to say they are your own," said Growling. " Ned, 
 don't be too modest ; it is the worst fault a man can have who wants to 
 get on in this world." 
 
 " The call is with you, Ned," shouted Murphy from the head of the 
 table ; " knock some one down for a song." 
 
 "Mr. Reddy, I hope, will favour us," said Edward, with a courteous 
 inclination of his head towards the gentleman he named, who returned 
 a very low bow, with many protestations that he would " do his best," 
 &c. : "but after Mr. O'Connor, really;" — and this was said with a 
 certain self-complacent smile, indicative of his being on very good terms 
 with himself. Now, James Reddy wrote rhymes, bless the mark! 
 and was tolerably well convinced that, except Tom Moore, (if he did 
 except even him,) there was not a man in the British dominions his 
 equal at a lyric : — he sang, too, with a kill-me-quite air, as if no lady 
 could resist his strains ; and to " give effect," as he called it, he began 
 every stanza as loud as he could, and finished it in a gentle murmur — 
 tailed it off very taper indeed ; in short, it seemed as if a shout had 
 been suddenly smitten with consumption, and died in a whisper. And 
 this, his style, never varied, whatever the nature or expression of the 
 song might be, or the sense to be expressed ; but as he very often sang 
 his own, there was seldom any to consider. This rubbish he had set to 
 music by the country music master, who believed himself to be a better 
 coirposer than Sir John Stevenson, to whom the prejudices of the world 
 gave the palm ; and he eagerly caught at the opportunity which the 
 verses and vanity of Reddy afforded him, of stringing his crotchets and 
 quavers on the same hank with the abortive fruits of Reddy's muse, and 
 the wretched productions hung worthily together. 
 
 Reddy, with the proper quantity of "hems and haws, ' and rubbing 
 down his upper lip and chin with his forefinger and thumb, cleared his 
 throat, tossed his nose into the air, and said, he was going to give them 
 " a little classic thing." 
 
 "Just look at the puppy!" snarled out old Growling to his neigh- 
 bour, " he's going to measure us out some yards of his own fustian, I'm 
 sure, — he looks so pleased." 
 
 Reddy gave his last " a-hem!" and sang what he called 
 
 ^z lament of &rtatme. 
 
 The graceful Greek with gem-bright hair 
 Her garments rent, and rent the air. 
 
 "What a tearing rage she was in!" said old Growling in an under 
 tone. 
 
 With sobs and sighs 
 And tearful eyes, 
 Like fountain fair of Helicon! 
 
HANDY ANDY. 47 
 
 " Oh, thunder and lightning !" growled the doctor, who pulled a letter 
 out of his pocket, and began to scribble on the blank portions of it, with 
 the stump of a blunt pencil, which he very audibly sucked, to enable it 
 to make a mark. 
 
 For ah, her lover false was gone ! 
 The fickle brave, 
 And fickle wave, 
 
 " And pickled cabbage," said the doctor — 
 
 Combined to cheat the fickle fair. 
 
 Oh, fickle ! fickle ! fickle ! 
 But the brave should be true, 
 And the fair ones too — 
 True, true, 
 As the ocean's blue ! 
 And Ariadne had not been, 
 Deserted there, like beauty's queen. 
 Oh, Ariadne ! — adne ! — adne ! 
 
 "Beautiful!" said the doctor, with an approving nod at Reddy, who 
 continued his song, while the doctor continued to write. 
 
 The sea-nymphs round the sea-girt shore 
 
 Mock'd the maiden's sighs, 
 And the ocean's savage roar 
 
 Replies — 
 Replies — replies— replies, replies, replies. 
 
 (After the manner of " Tell me where is Fancy bred." \ 
 
 "Very original," said the doctor. 
 
 With willow wand 
 Upon the strand 
 She wrote with trembling heart and hand, 
 "The brave should ne'er 
 Desert the fair." 
 But the wave the moral washed away, 
 Ah, well-a-day! — well-a-day! 
 A-day ! — a-day ! — a-day ! 
 
 Reddy smiled and bowed, and thunders of applause followed ; — the 
 doctor shouted — " Splendid !" several times, and continued to write and 
 take snuff voraciously, by which those who knew him could comprehend 
 he was bent on mischief. 
 
 ' What a beautiful thing that is !" said one. 
 
 "Whose is it ?" said another. 
 
 " A little thing of my own," answered Reddy with a smile. 
 
 " I thought so," said Murphy : " by Jove, James, you are a genius !" 
 
 "Nonsense!" smiled the poet; "just a little classic trifle — I think 
 them little classic allusions is pleasing in general — Tommy Moore is very 
 happy in his classic allusions, you may remark ; not that I, of course, mean 
 to institute a comparison between so humble an individual as myself, and 
 Tommy Moore, who has so well been called ' the poet of all circles, and 
 the idol of his own ;' and if you will permit me, in a kindred spirit, — 
 I hope I may say the kindred spirit of a song, — in that kindred spirit 
 I propose his health — the health of Tommy Moore !" 
 
48 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 " Don't say, Tommy /" said the doctor, in an irascible tone ; " call the 
 man Tom, sir; — with all my heart, Tom Moore!" 
 
 The table took the word from Jack Growling, and "Tom Moore," with 
 all the honours of " hip and hurra," rang round the walls of the village 
 inn ; — and where is the village in Ireland, that health has not been hailed 
 with the fiery enthusiasm of the land whose lays he hath "wedded to 
 immortal verse," that land which is proud of his birth, and holds his 
 name in honour. 
 
 There is a magic in a great name ; and in this instance, that of Tom 
 Moore turned the current from where it was setting, and instead of 
 quizzing the nonsense of the fool who had excited their mirth, every one 
 launched forth in praise of their native bard, and couplets from, his 
 favourite songs ran from lip to lip. 
 
 " Come, Ned of the Hill," said Murphy, " sing us one of his songs — 
 I know you have them all as pat as your prayers" — 
 
 "And says them oftener," said the doctor, who still continued scrib- 
 bling over the letter. 
 
 Edward, at the urgent request of many, sang that most exquisite of 
 the Melodies, "And doth not a meeting like this make amends?'' and 
 long rang the plaudits, and rapidly circulated the bottle, at its conclusion. 
 
 "We'll be the 'Alps in the sun-set,' my boys," said Murphy, "and 
 here's the wine to enlighten us ! — But what are you about there, doctor ? 
 is it a prescription you are writing?" 
 
 "No. Prescriptions are written in Latin, and this is a bit of Greek 
 I'm doing. Mr. Reddy has inspired me with a classic spirit, and if you 
 will permit me, I'll volunteer a song, \_Bravo ! Bravo /] and give you 
 another version of the subject he has so beautifully treated; only mine 
 is not so heart-breaking.' 
 
 The doctor's proposition was received with cheers, and after he had 
 gone through the mockery of clearing his throat, and pitching his voice 
 after the usual manner of your would-be-fine singers, he gave out, to the 
 tune of a well-known rollicking Irish lilt, the following burlesque 
 version of the subject of Reddy 's song : — ,. 
 
 %obt m\tf Htquor. 
 
 A GREEK ALLEGORY. 
 
 Oh sure 'twould amaze yiz 
 
 How one Misther Theseus 
 Desarted a lovely young lady of owld, 
 
 On a dissolute island, 
 
 All lonely and silent, 
 She sobb'd herself sick as she sat in the cow.d. 
 
 Oh you'd think she was kilt, 
 
 As she roar'd with the quilt 
 Wrapp'd round her in haste as she jump'd out of bed, 
 
 And ran down to the coast 
 
 Where she look'd like a ghost, 
 Though 'twas he was departed — the vagabone fled. 
 
 And she cried, " Well-a-day! 
 
 Sure my heart it is grey; 
 They're deceivers, them sojers that goes on half-pay!' 
 
IIANJjy ANDY. 49 
 
 While abusing the villian, 
 
 Came riding postilion, 
 A nate little boy on the back of a baste, 
 
 Big enough, faith, to ate him, 
 
 But he lather'd and bate him, 
 And the baste to unsate him ne'er struggled the laste ; 
 
 And an iligant car 
 
 He was dhrawing— by gar! 
 It was finer by far than a Lord Mayor's state coach •, 
 
 And the chap that was in it, 
 
 He sang like a linnet, 
 With a nate kag of whisky beside him to broach. 
 
 And he tipp'd, now and then, 
 
 Just a matter o' ten 
 Or twelve tumblers o' punch to his bowld sarving men. 
 
 They were dress'd in green livery, 
 
 But seem'd rather shivery, 
 For 'twas only a thrifle o' leaves that they wore, 
 
 But they caper'd away, 
 
 Like the sweeps on May-day, 
 And shouted and tippled the tumblers galore! 
 
 A print of their masther 
 
 Is often in plasther- 
 o' Paris, put over the door of a tap ; 
 
 A fine chubby fellow, 
 
 Ripe, rosy, and mellow, 
 Like a peach that is ready to drop in your lap. 
 
 Hurrah ! for Brave Bacchus, 
 
 A bottle to crack us, 
 He's a friend of the people, like bowld Caius Gracchus. 
 
 Now Bacchus perceiving 
 
 The lady was grieving. 
 He spoke to her civil, and tipp'd her a wink ; 
 
 And the more that she fretted, 
 
 He soother'd and petted, 
 And gave her a glass her own health just to dhrink ; 
 
 Her pulse it beat quicker, 
 
 The thrifle o' liquor 
 Enliven'd her sinking heart's cockles, I think ; 
 
 So the moral is plain, 
 
 That if love gives you pain, 
 There's nothing can cure it like taking to dhrink ! 
 
 Uproarious were the " bravos " which followed the doctor's im- 
 promptu ; the glasses overflowed, and were emptied to his health and 
 song, as laughing faces nodded to him round the table. The doctor 
 sat seriously rocking himself in his chair backwards and forwards, 
 to meet the various duckings of the beaming faces about him ; for 
 every face beamed, but one — and that was the unfortunate M'Garry's. 
 He was most deplorably drunk, and began to hold on by the table. At 
 last he contrived to shove back his chair and get on his legs ; and making 
 a sloping stagger towards the wall, contrived by its support to scramble 
 his way to the door. There he balanced himself as well as he could by 
 the handle of the lock, which chance, rather than design, enabled him 
 
 £ 
 
50 HANDY AinDY. 
 
 to turn, and the door suddenly opening, poor M'Garry made a rush 
 across the landing-place, and stumbling against an opposite door would 
 have fallen, had he not supported himself by the lock of that also, which 
 again yielding to his heavy tugs, opened, and the miserable wretch 
 making another plunge forward, his shins came in contact with the rail 
 of a very low bed, and into it he fell head foremost, totally unable to 
 rise, and after some heavy grunts, he sank into a profound sleep. 
 
 In this state he was discovered soon after by Murphy, whose inventive 
 faculty for frolic instantly suggested how the apothecary's mishap might 
 be made the foundation of a good practical joke. Murtough went down 
 stairs, and procuring some blacking and red pickled cabbage, by stealth, 
 returned to the chamber where M'Garry now lay in a state of stupor, 
 and dragging off his clothes, he made long dabs across his back with the 
 purple juice of the pickle, and Warren's paste, till poor M'Garry was as 
 regularly striped as a tiger, from his shoulder to his flank. He then 
 returned to the dinner-room, where the drinking bout had assumed a 
 formidable character, and others, as well as the apothecary, began to 
 feel the influence of their potations. Murphy confided to the doctor 
 what he had done, and said, that when the men were drunk enough, 
 he would contrive that M'Garry should be discovered, and then they 
 would take their measures accordingly. It was not very long before 
 his company were ripe enough for his designs, and then ringing the 
 bell, he demanded of the waiter, when he entered, what had become 
 of Mr. M'Garry ? The waiter, not having any knowledge on the sub- 
 ject, was desired to inquire, and a search being instituted, M'Garry was 
 discovered by Mrs. Fay in the state Murphy had left him in. On 
 seeing him, she was so terrified that she screamed, and ran into the 
 dinner- room, wringing her hands, and shouting, " Murder !" A great 
 commotion ensued, and a general rush to the bed-room took place, and 
 exclamations of wonder and horror flew round the room, not only from 
 the gentlemen of the dinner-party, but from the servants of the house, 
 who crowded to the chamber on the first alarm, and helped not a little 
 to increase the confusion. 
 
 " Oh, who ever see the like of it !" shouted Mrs. Fay. " He's kilt 
 with the batin' he got ! Oh, look at him ! — black and blue all over ! — 
 Oh, the murther it is ! Oh, I wouldn't be Squire O'Grady for all his 
 fort'n." 
 
 " Gad, I believe he's killed, sure enough," said Murphy. 
 
 " What a splendid action the widow will have !" said Jack Horan. 
 
 " You forget, man," said Murphy, " this is not a case for action of 
 damages, but a felony — hanging matter." 
 
 '' Sure enough," said Jack. 
 
 " Doctor, will you feel his pulse ?" said Murphy. 
 
 The doctor did as he was required, and assumed a very serious coun- 
 tenance. u 'Tis a bad business, sir: — his wounds are mortifying 
 already." 
 
 Upon this announcement, there was a general retreat from the bed 
 round which they had been crowding too close for the carrying on of 
 the joke ; and Mrs. Fay ran for a shovel of hot cinders, and poured 
 vinegar over them, to fumigate the room. 
 

 i-^t?^ o/^W/£ <_J^7Zrftce^. 
 
 London r cio 
 
HANDY ANDY. 51 
 
 " A very proper precaution, Mrs. Fay," said the doctor, with imper- 
 turbable gravity. 
 
 " That villanous smoke is choking me," said Jack Horan. 
 
 " Better that, sir, than have a pestilence in the house," said Growling. 
 
 " I'll leave the place," said Jack Horan. 
 
 " And I, too," said Doyle. 
 
 " And I,"said Reddy — " 'tis disgusting to a sensitive mind.'' 
 
 " Gentlemen!" said Murphy, shutting the door, "you must not quit 
 the house. I must have an inquest on the body." 
 
 " An inquest !" they all exclaimed. 
 
 "Yes — an inquest." 
 
 "But there's no coroner here," said Reddy. 
 
 " No matter for that," said Murphy. " I, as the under-sheriff of the 
 county, can preside at this inquiry. Gentlemen, take your places ; — 
 bring in more light, Mrs. Fay. Stand round the bed, gentlemen." 
 
 " Not too close," said the doctor. " Mrs. Fay, bring more vinegar." 
 
 Mrs. Fay had additional candles and more vinegar introduced, and 
 the drunken fellows were standing as straight as they could, each with 
 a candle in his hand, round the still prostrate M'Garry. 
 
 Murphy then opened on them with a speech, and called in every one 
 in the house to ask did they know anything about the matter ; and it 
 was not long before it was spread all over the town, that Squire O'Grady 
 had killed M'Garry, and that the coroner's inquest brought in a verdict 
 of murder, and that the Squire was going to be sent to jail. 
 
 This almost incredible humbug of Murphy's had gone on for nearly 
 half an hour, when the cold arising from his want of clothes, and the 
 riot about him, and the fumes of the vinegar, roused M'Garry, who 
 turned on the bed and opened his eyes. There he saw a parcel of 
 people standing round him, with candles in their hands, and counte- 
 nances of drunken wonder and horror. He uttered a hollow groan and 
 cried, — ■ 
 
 " Save us and keep us ! where am I ?" 
 
 " Retire, gentlemen ! " said the doctor, waving his hand authorita- 
 tively; " retire — all but the under-sheriff." 
 
 Murphy cleared the room, and shut the door, while M'Garry still 
 kept exclaiming, — "Save us and keep us! Where am I? What's 
 this ? O Lord ! " 
 
 "You're dead ! " says Murphy, "and the coroner's inquest has just 
 sat on you ! " 
 
 " Dead ! " cried M'Garry, with a horrified stare. 
 
 "Dead! " repeated the doctor solemnly. 
 
 " Are not you Doctor Growling ? " 
 
 "You see the effect, Mr. Murphy," said the doctor, not noticing 
 M'Garry 's question — " you see the effect of the process." 
 
 " Wonderful !" said Murphy. 
 
 " Preserve us !" cried the bewildered apothecary. '' How could I 
 know ydu, if I was dead, doctor ? Oh ! doctor dear, sure I a-m not 
 dead !" 
 
 " As a herring," said the doctor. 
 
 " Lord have mercy on me ! — Oh, Mister Murphy, sure I'm not dead." 
 
 E 2 
 
5 12 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 "You're dead, sir," said Murphy; " the doctor has only galvanised 
 you for a few moments." 
 
 " O Lord !" groaned M'Garry, " Doctor — indeed, doctor ?" 
 
 " You are in a state of temporary animation," said the doctor. 
 
 " I do feel very odd, indeed," said the terrified man, putting his 
 hands to his throbbing temples. " How long am I dead 1" 
 
 " A week next Tuesday," said the doctor " Galvanism has preserved 
 you from decomposition." 
 
 M'Garry uttered a heavy groan, and looked up piteously at his two 
 tormentors. Murphy, fearful the shock might drive him out of his 
 mind, said, " Perhaps, doctor, you can preserve his life altogether ; you 
 have kept him alive so long." 
 
 " I'll try," said Growling ; " hand me that tumbler." 
 
 Murphy handed him a tumbler full of water, and the doctor gave it 
 to M"Garry, and desired him to try and drink it ; — he put it to his lips 
 and swallowed a little drop. 
 
 " Can you taste it V asked the doctor. 
 
 " Isn't it water ?" said M 'Garry. 
 
 " You see how dull the nerves are yet," said Growling to Murphy ; 
 " that's aquafortis and assafcetida, and he can't taste it ; we must give 
 him another touch of the battery. Hold him up while I go into the 
 next room and immerse the plates." 
 
 The doctor left the bed-room, and came back with a hot poker, and 
 some lemon-juice and water. 
 
 " Turn him gently round," said he to Murphy, while I conduct the 
 wires." 
 
 His order was obeyed ; and giving M'Garry a touch of the hot poker, 
 the apothecary roared like a bull. 
 
 "That did him good !" said Growling. "Now try, can you taste 
 anything?" and he gave him the lemon-juice and water. 
 
 " I taste a slight acid, doctor dear !" said M'Garry, hopefully. 
 
 " You see what that last touch did," said Growling, gravely ; " but 
 the palate is still feeble ; that's nearly pure nitric." 
 
 " Oh, clear !" said M'Garry, " is it nitric ?" 
 
 " You see his hearing is coming back too," said the doctor to Mur- 
 phy ; " try, can he put his legs under him ?" 
 
 They raised the apothecary from the bed ; and when he staggered and 
 fell forward, he looked horrified — " Oh dear, I can't walk. — I'm afraid 
 I am — I am no more ! " 
 
 " Don't despair," said the doctor ; " I pledge my professional repu- 
 tation to save you now, since you can stand at all, and your senses are 
 partly restored; let him lie down again ; try, could he sleep— " 
 
 " Sleep ! " — said M'Garry with horror, — " perhaps never to awaken." 
 
 " I'll keep up the galvanic influence — don't be afraid ; depend upon 
 me — there lie down, can you shut your eyes ? Yes, I see you can ; — 
 don't open them so fast. Try, can you keep them shut ? Don't open 
 them till I tell you — wait till I count two hundred and fifty : — that's 
 right, turn a little more round — keep your eyes fast ; — that's it — One — 
 two — three — four — five — six — seven ;" and so he went on, making a 
 longer interval between every number, till the monotonous sound, and 
 
HANDY ANDY. 53 
 
 the closed eye of the helplessly-drunken man, produced the effect desired 
 by the doctor ; and the heavy snoring of the apothecary soon bore wit- 
 ness that he slept. 
 
 We hope it is not necessary to assure our fair readers that Edward 
 O'Connor had nothing to do with this scene of drunken absurdity : — no. 
 Long before the evening's proceedings had assumed the character of a 
 regular drinking bout, he had contrived to make his escape, his head 
 only sufficiently excited to increase his sentimentality ; so instead of 
 riding home direct, he took a round of some eight miles, to have a look 
 at Merry vale ; for there dwelt Fanny Dawson — the Darling Fanny 
 Dawson, sister to Dick, whose devilry was more than redeemed in the 
 family by the angelic sweetness of his lovely and sportive sister. For the 
 present, however, poor Edward O'Connor was not allowed to address 
 Fanny ; but his love for her knew no abatement, notwithstanding ; and 
 to see the place where she dwelt had for him a charm. There he sat 
 in his saddle, at the gate, looking up the long line of old trees through 
 which the cold moonlight was streaming ; and he fancied that Fanny's 
 foot had trodden that avenue perhaps a few hours before, and even that 
 gave him pleasure: for to those who love with the fond enthusiasm of 
 Edward O'Connor, the very vacancy where the loved one has been is 
 sacred. 
 
 The horse pawed impatiently to be gone, and Edward reined him up 
 with a chiding voice; but the animal continuing restless, Edward's 
 apostrophes to his mistress, and warnings to his horse, made an odd 
 mixture ; and we would recommend gentlemen, after their second bottle, 
 not to let themselves be overheard in their love fits ; for even as fine a 
 fellow as Edward O'Connor is likely to be ridiculous under such circum- 
 stances. 
 
 " O, Fanny!" cried Edward, — "My adored Fanny!" — then to his 
 horse, " Be quiet, you brute /" — " My love — my angel — you devil, I'll 
 thrash you, if you don't be quiet — though separated from me, you are 
 always present to my mind; your bright eyes, your raven locks — your 
 mouth's as hard as a paving-stone, you brute! — Oh, Fanny, if fate be 
 ever propitious ; should I be blessed with the divine possession of your 
 charms ; you should then know — what a devil you are — you should 
 then know the tenderest care. I'll guard you, caress you, fondle you — 
 III bury my spurs in you, you devil. Oh, Fanny! — beloved one ! — 
 farewell — good night — a thousand blessings on you ! — and now go and 
 be d — d to you .'" said he, bitterly, putting spurs to his horse and galloping 
 home. 
 
 When the doctor was satisfied that M'Garry was fast asleep, he and 
 Murphy left the room, and locked the door. They were encountered 
 on the lobby by several curious people, who wanted to know " was the 
 man dead ?" The doctor shook his head very gravely, and said, " Not 
 quite ;" while Murphy, with a serious nod, said, ''All over, I'm afraid, 
 Mrs. Fay ;" for he perceived among the persons on the lobby a servant 
 of O'Grady's, who chanced to be in the town, and was all wonder and 
 fright at the news of his master having committed murder. Murphy 
 and the doctor proceeded to the dinner-room, where they found the 
 
54 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 drunken men wrangling about what verdict they should bring in, and a 
 discursive dispute touching " murder," and " manslaughter," and " ac- 
 cidental death," and " the visitation of God," mingled with ivoliy toasts 
 and flowing cups, until any sagacity the company ever possessed was 
 sacrificed to the rosy god. 
 
 The lateness of the hour, and the state of the company, rendered 
 riding home impossible to most of them ; so Mrs. Fay was called upon 
 to prepare beds. The inn did not afford a sufficiency to accommodate 
 every gentleman with a single one, so a toss up was resorted to, to decide 
 who should sleep double. The fortune of war cast the unfortunate 
 James Reddy upon the doctor, who, though one of the few who were 
 capable of self-protection, preferred remaining at the inn to riding home 
 some miles. Now James Reddy, though very drunk indeed, had sense 
 enough left to dislike the lot that fate had cast him. To sleep with such 
 a slovenly man as the doctor shocked James, who was a bit of a dandy. 
 The doctor seemed perfectly contented with the arrangement ; and as 
 he bade Murphy good night, there was a lurking devilment hung about 
 his huge mouth. All the men staggered off, or were supported to their 
 various beds, but one, — and he could not stir from the floor, where he 
 lay hugging the leg of the table. To every effort to disturb him, he 
 replied, with an imploring grunt, to "let him alone," and he hugged 
 the leg of the table closer, exclaiming " I won't leave you, Mrs. Fay — 
 my darling Mrs. Fay ; rowl your arms round me, Mrs. Fay." 
 
 " Ah, get up and go to bed, Misther Doyle," said Tim. " Sure the 
 misthress is not here at all." . 
 
 " I know she's not," said Doyle. " Who says a word against her ?" 
 
 " Sure you're talkin 1 to her yourself, sir." 
 
 " Pooh, pooh, man ! — you're dhrunk." 
 
 " Ah, come to bed,' Misther Doyle !" said Tim, in an imploring tone : 
 " Och sure, my heart's broke with you !" 
 
 "Don't say your heart's broke, my sweet landlady — my darling 
 Mrs. Fay ; the apple of my eye you are !" 
 
 "Nonsense! Misther Doyle." 
 
 " True as the sun, moon, and stars. Apple of my eye, did I say ? I'd 
 give you the apples of my eyes to make sauce for the cockles of your 
 heart: Mrs. Fay, darling — don't be coy : ha! I have you fast!" and 
 he gripped the table closer. 
 
 " Well, you are dhrunk, Misther Doyle !" said Tim. 
 
 " I hope my breath is not offensive from drink, Mrs. Fay," said 
 Doyle, in an amatory whisper to the leg of the table. 
 
 " Ah, get out o'that, Misther Doyle," said Tim ; accompanying the 
 exclamation with a good shake, which somewhat roused the prostrate 
 swain. 
 
 " Who's there ?" 
 
 "I want you to come to bed, sir ; — ah, don't be so foolish, Misther 
 Doyle. Sure you don't think the Misthis would be rowlin' on the 
 flure there wid you, as dhrunk as a pig — " 
 
 " Dare not to wound her fame ! — Who says a word of Mrs. Fay ?" 
 
 " Arrah, sure, you're talkin' there about her this half hour." 
 
HANDY ANDY. 5 r , 
 
 " False, villain ! — Whisht, my darling,'' said he to the leg of the 
 table : " I'll never betray you. Hug me tight, Mrs. Fay !" 
 
 " Bad luck to the care I'll take any more about you," says Tim. 
 "Sleep an the flure, if you like." And Doyle was left to pass the night 
 in the soft imaginary delights of Mrs. Fay's mahogany embraces. 
 
 Ho\v fared it with James Reddy ? — Alas, poor James was doomed to 
 a night of torment, the effects of which he remembered for many days 
 after. In fact, had James been left to his choice, he would rather have 
 slept with the house-dog than the doctor ; but he dreaded the conse- 
 quences of letting old Jack perceive his antipathy ; and visions of future 
 chastisement from the doctor's satirical tongue awed him into submis- 
 sion to the present punishment. — He sneaked into bed, therefore, and 
 his deep potations ensured him immediate sleep, from which he woke, 
 however, in the middle of the night in torture, from the deep scratches 
 inflicted upon him by every kick of old Growling. At last, poor 
 Reddy could stand it no longer ; and the earliest hour of dawn revealed 
 him to the doctor, putting on his clothes, swearing like a trooper at one 
 moment, and at the next apostrophising the genius of gentility. (t What 
 it is to have to do with a person that is not a gentleman !" he exclaimed, 
 as he pulled on one leg of his trousers. 
 
 "What's the matter with you?" asked old Jack, from the bed. 
 
 " The matter, sir, is that I'm going." 
 
 "Is it at this hour ! Tut. man, don't be a fool. Get into bed again." 
 
 " Never, sir, with you at least. I have seldom slept two in a bed, 
 Doctor Growling, for my gentlemanly habits forbid it ; but when cir- 
 cumstances have obliged me, it has been with gentlemen — gentlemen, 
 doctor;" — and he laid a strong stress on the word — "Gentlemen, 
 sir — who cut their toe nails. Sir, I am a serious sufferer by your coarse 
 habits ; you have scratched me, sir, nearly to death. I am one gore of 
 blood" — 
 
 " Tut, man, 'twas not my nails scratched you ; it was only my spurs 
 I put on going to bed, to keep you at a distance from me ; you were so 
 disgustingly drunk, my gentleman ! — look there ;" and he poked his leg 
 out of bed, and there, sure enough, Reddy saw a spur buckled : and, 
 dumb-foundered at this evidence of the doctor's atrocit}', he snatched up 
 his clothes, and rushed from the room, as from the den of a bear. 
 
 Murphy twisted a beneficial result to M'Garry out of the mqht's 
 riotous frolic at his expense ; for, in the morning, taking advantage of 
 the report of the inquest which he knew must have reached Neck-or- 
 Nothing-Hall, he made a communication to O'Grady, so equivocally 
 worded that the Squire fell into the trap. 
 
 The note ran as follows : — 
 
 " Sir, — You must be aware that your act of yesterday has raised a 
 strong feeling in the country against you, and that so flagrant a violation 
 of the laws cannot fail to be visited with terrible severity upon you : for 
 though your position in rank places you far above the condition of the 
 unfortunate man on whom you wreaked your vengeance, you know, sir, 
 that in the eye of the law you are equal, and the shield of justice pro- 
 tects th« peasant as well as the prince. Under these circumstances, sir, 
 
56 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 considering the awful consequences of your ungoverned rage (which, I 
 doubt not, now, you deplore), I would suggest to you, by a timely offer of 
 compromise, in the shape of a handsome sum of money — say two hun- 
 dred pounds — to lull the storm which must otherwise burst on your 
 devoted head, and save your name from dishonour. I anxiously await 
 your answer, as proceedings must instantly commence, and the law take 
 its course, unless Mrs. M'Garry can be pacified. 
 
 " I have the honour to be, Sir, 
 
 "Your most obedient Servant, 
 
 "Murtough Murphy." 
 
 To Gustavus Granby 0' Grady, Esq. 
 
 Neck-or- Nothing Hall. 
 
 O'Grady was thoroughly frightened ; and, strange as it may appear, 
 did believe he could compromise for killing only a plebeian ; and actually 
 sent Murphy his note of hand for the sum demanded. Murtough 
 posted off to M'Garry : he and his wife received him with shouts of 
 indignation, and heaped reproaches on his head, for the trick he had 
 played on the apothecary. 
 
 " Oh ! Mister Murphy — never look me in the face again !" said Mrs. 
 M'Garry, who was ugly enough to make the request quite unnecessary. 
 " To send my husband home to me a beast !" 
 
 "Striped like a tiger!" said M'Garry. 
 
 "Blacking and pickled cabbage, Mist her Murphy I'' said the wife. 
 "Oh fie, sir! — I did not think you could be so low." 
 
 "Galvanism!" said M'Garry, furiously. "My professional honour 
 wounded!" 
 
 " Whisht, whisht, man !" said Murphy; "there's a finer plaister than 
 any in your shop for the cure of wounded honour. Look at that!" — 
 and he handed him the note for two hundred, — " There's galvanism 
 for you !" 
 
 "What is this?" said M'Garry, in amazement. 
 
 " The result of last night's inquest," said Murphy. " You have got 
 your damages without a trial ; so pocket your money, and be thankful." 
 
 The two hundred pounds at once changed the aspect of affairs. 
 M'Garry vowed eternal gratitude, with protestations that Murphy was 
 the cleverest attorney alive, and ought to be chief justice. The wife 
 was equally vociferous in her acknowledgments, until Murtough, who, 
 when he entered the house, was near falling a sacrifice to the claws of 
 the apothecary's wife, was obliged to rush from the premises, to shun 
 the more terrible consequences of her embraces. 
 
HANDY ANDY. 57 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 We have sat so long at our dinner, that we have almost lost sight of 
 poor Andy, to whom we must now return. When he ran to his mother's 
 cabin to escape from the fangs of- Dick Dawson, there was no one 
 within ; his mother being digging a few potatoes for supper from the 
 little ridge behind her house, and Oonah Riley, her niece, — an orphan 
 girl who lived with her, — being up to Squire Egan's to sell some eggs ; 
 for round the poorest cabins in Ireland you scarcely ever fail to see 
 some ragged hens, whose eggs are never consumed by their proprietors, 
 except, perhaps, on Easter Sunday, but sold to the neighbouring gentry 
 at a trifling price. 
 
 Andy cared not who was out or who was in, provided he could 
 only escape from Dick ; so, without asking any questions, he crawled 
 under the wretched bed in the dark corner, where his mother and 
 Oonah slept, and where the latter, through the blessed influence of 
 health and youth and an innocent heart, had brighter dreams than 
 attend many a couch whose downy pillows and silken hangings would 
 more than purchase the fee-simple of any cabin in Ireland. There 
 Andy, in a state of utter exhaustion from his fears, his race, and his 
 thrashing, soon fell asleep, and the terrors of Dick the Devil gave place 
 to the blessing of the profoundest slumber. 
 
 Quite unconscious of the presence of her darling Andy was the 
 widow Rooney, as she returned from the potato ridge into her cabin ; 
 depositing a skeough of the newly dug esculent at the door, and 
 replacing the spade in its own corner of the cabin. At the same 
 moment Oonah returned, after disposing of her eggs, and handed 
 the threepence she had received for them to her aunt, who dropped 
 them into the deep pocket of blue striped tick which hung at her 
 side. 
 
 " Take the pail, Oonah, ma chree, and run to the well for some 
 wather to wash the pratees, while I get the pot ready for bilin' them ; 
 it wants scowrin', for the pig was atin' his dinner out iv it, the 
 craythur ! " 
 
 Off went Oonah with her pail, which she soon filled from the clear 
 spring ; and placing the vessel on her head, walked back to the cabin 
 with that beautifully erect form, free step, and graceful swaying of the 
 figure, so peculiar to the women of Ireland and the East, from their 
 habit of carrying weights upon the head. The potatoes were soon 
 washed ; and as they got their last dash of water in the skeough, whose 
 open wicker-work let the moisture drain from them, up came Larry 
 Hogan, who, being what is called " a civil-spoken man," addressed 
 Mrs. Rooney in the following agreeable manner : — 
 
68 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 " Them's purty pratees, Mrs. Rooney; God save you, ma'am !' 
 
 " 'Deed an' they are, — thank you kindly, Mr. Hogan; God save you 
 and your's too ! And how would the woman that owns you be 1 " 
 
 " Hearty, thank } r ou." 
 
 " Will you step in ? " 
 
 " No — I'm obleeged to you — I must be aff home wid me ; but I'll 
 just get a coal for my pipe, for it wint out on me awhile agone with 
 the fright." 
 
 " Well, I've heer'd quare things, Larry Hogan," said Oonah, laugh- 
 ing and showing her white teeth ; " but I never heer'd so quare a thing 
 as a pipe goin' out with the fright.'' 
 
 " Oh, how sharp you are ! — takin' one up afore they're down." 
 
 " Not afore they're down, Larry, for you said it." 
 
 " Well, if I was down, you were down on me, so you are down too, 
 you see. Ha, ha! And afther all now, Oonah, a pipe is like a Christian 
 in many ways: — sure it's made o' clay like a Christian, and has the 
 spark o' life in it, and while the breath is in it the spark is alive ; but 
 when the breath is out of it, the spark dies, and then it grows cowld 
 like a Christian ; and isn't it a pleasant companion like a Christian ?" 
 
 '* Faix, some Christians isn't pleasant companions at all!" chimed in 
 Mrs. Rooney, sententiously. 
 
 " Well, but they ought to be," said Larry ; " and isn't a pipe some- 
 times cracked like a Christian, and isn't it sometimes choked like a 
 Christian ? " 
 
 " Oh, choke you and your pipe together, Larry ! will you never have 
 done?" said the widow. 
 
 " The most improvinist thing in the world is smokin'," said Larry, 
 who had now relit his pipe, and squatted himself on a three-legged stool 
 beside the widow's fire. " The most improvinist thing in the world" — 
 (paugh !) — and a parenthetical whiff of tobacco smoke curled out, of the 
 corner of Larry's mouth — " is smokin' : for the smoke shows you, as it 
 were, the life o' man passin' away like a puff, — (paugh !) — just like that; 
 and the tibakky turns to ashes like his poor perishable body : for, as 
 the song says, — 
 
 " Tibakky is an Indian weed, 
 Alive at morn, and dead at eve; 
 It Jives but an hour, 
 Is cut down like a flower. 
 Think o' this when you're smoking tiba-akky!" 
 
 And Larry sung the ditty as he crammed some of the weed into the 
 bowl of his pipe with his little finger. 
 
 " Why, you're as good as a sarmint this evenin', Larry," said the 
 widow, as she lifted the iron pot on the fire. 
 
 " There's worse sarmints nor that, I can tell you," rejoined Larry, 
 who took up the old song again — 
 
 " A pipe it lams us all this thing, — 
 
 'Tis fair without and foul within, 
 Just like the sowl begrim'd with hin. 
 Think o' this when you're smoking tiba-akky!" 
 
HANDY ANDY. 59 
 
 Larry puffed away silently for a few minutes, and when Oonah had 
 placed a few sods of turf round the pot in an upright position, that the 
 flame might curl upward round them, and so hasten the boiling, she 
 drew a stool near the fire, and asked Larry to explain about the fright. 
 
 " Why, I was coming up by the cross road there, when what should 
 I see but a ghost — " 
 
 "A ghost!!!" exclaimed the widow and Oonah, with suppressed 
 voices, and distended mouth and eyes. 
 
 " To all appearance," said Larry ; " but it was only a thing was stuck 
 in the hedge to freken whoever was passin' by ; and as I kem up to it 
 there was a groan, so 1 started, and looked at it for a minit, or thereaway ; 
 but I seen what it was, and threwn a stone at it, for fear I'd be mistaken ; 
 and I heer'd tittherin' inside the hedge, and then I knew 'twas only 
 divilment of some one." 
 
 " And what was it?" asked Oonah. 
 
 " 'Twas a horse's head, in throth, with an owld hat on the top of it, 
 and two buck-briars stuck out at each side, and some rags hanging on 
 them, and an owld breeches shakin' undher the head ; 'twas just alto- 
 gether like a long pale-faced man with high shouldhers and no body, 
 and very long arms and short legs: — faith, it frightened me at first." 
 
 " And no wondher," said Oonah. " Dear, but I think I'd lose my 
 life if I seen the like ! " 
 
 '* But sure," said the widow, " wouldn't you know that ghosts never 
 appears by day ?" 
 
 " Ay, but I hadn't time to think 'o that, bein' taken short wid the 
 fright, — more betoken, 'twas the place the murdher happened in long 
 ago." 
 
 " Sure enough," said the widow. " God betune us and harm ! " and 
 she marked herself with the sign of the cross as she spoke : — " and a 
 terrible murdher it was," added she. 
 
 " How was it ? " inquired Oonah, drawing her seat closer to her aunt 
 and Larry. 
 
 " 'Twas a schoolmaster, dear, that was found dead on the road one 
 mornin', with his head full of fractions," said the widow. 
 
 " All in jommethry,"* said Larry. 
 
 " And some said he fell off the horse, said the widow. 
 
 " And more say the horse fell on him,'' said Larry. 
 
 " And again, there was some said the horse kicked him in the head," 
 said the widow. 
 
 " And there was talk of shoe-aside," said Larry. 
 
 " The horse's shoe was it?" asked Oonah. 
 
 " No, alanna" said Larry: " shoe-aside is Latin for cutting your 
 throat." 
 
 " But he didn't cut his throat," said the widow. 
 
 " But sure it's all one whether he done it wid a razhir on his throat, 
 or a hammer on his head ; it's shoe-aside all the same." 
 
 " But there was no hammer found, was there?" said the widow. 
 
 " No," said Larry. " But some people thought he might have had 
 the hammer afther he done it, to take off the disgrace of the shoe-aside." 
 
 * Anything very badly broken is said by the Irish peasantry to be in jommethry. 
 
60 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 " But wasn't there any life in him when he was found ?" 
 
 " Not a taste. The crowner's jury sot on him, and he never said a 
 word agin it, and if he was alive he would." 
 
 " And didn't they find anything at all?" asked Oonah. 
 
 " Nothing but the vardick," said Larry. 
 
 ." And was that what killed him 1 " said Oonah. 
 
 " No, my dear ; 'twas the crack in the head that killed him, however 
 he kem by it ■ but the vardick o' the crowner was, that it was done, 
 and that some one did it, and that they wor blackguards, whoever they 
 wor, and persons onknown ; and sure if they wor unknown then, they'd 
 always stay so, for who'd know them afther doing the like?" 
 
 " Thrue for you, Larry," said the widow : " but what was that to 
 the murdher over at the green hills beyant ?" 
 
 " Oh ! that was the terriblest murdher ever was in the place, or nigh 
 it : that was the murdher in earnest ! " 
 
 With that eagerness which always attends the relation of horrible 
 stories, Larry and the old woman raked up every murder and robbery that 
 had occurred within their recollection, while Oonah listened with mixed 
 curiosity and fear. The boiling over of the pot at length recalled them 
 to a sense of the business that ought to be attended to at the moment, 
 and Larry was invited to take share of the potatoes. This he declined ; 
 declaring, as he had done some time previously, that he must " be off 
 home," and to the door he went accordingly ; but as the evening shades 
 had closed into the darkness of night, he paused on opening it with a 
 sensation he would not have liked to own. The fact was, that after the 
 discussion of numerous nightly murders, he would rather have had 
 daylight on the outside of the cabin ; for the horrid stories that had been 
 revived round the blazing hearth were not the best preparation for 
 going a lonely road on a dark night. But go he should, and go he 
 did ; and it is not improbable that the widow, from sympathy, had a 
 notion why Larry paused upon the threshold ; for the moment he had 
 crossed it, and that they had exchanged their " Good night, and God 
 speed you," the door was rapidly closed and bolted. The widow 
 returned to the fireside and was silent, while Oonah looked by the light 
 of a candle into the boiling pot, to ascertain if the potatoes were yet 
 done, and cast a fearful glance up the wide chimney as she withdrew 
 from the inspection. 
 
 " I wish Larry did not tell us such horrid stories," said she, as 
 she laid the rushlight on the table ; " I'll be dhramin' all night o' 
 them." 
 
 " 'Deed an' that's thrue," said the widow ; " I wish he hadn't." 
 
 " Sure you was as bad yourself," said Oonah. 
 
 " Throth, an' I b'lieve I was, child, and I'm sorry for it now ; but 
 let us ate our supper, and go to bed, in God's name." 
 
 " I'm afeard o' my life to go to bed!" said Oonah. " Wisha! but 
 I'd give the world it was mornin'." 
 
 ft Ate your supper, child, ate ycur supper," said her aunt, giving the 
 example, which was followed by Oonah ; and after the light meal, their 
 prayers were said, and perchance with a little extra devotion, from their 
 peculiar state of mind ; then to bed they went. The rushlight being 
 
HANDY ANDY. 61 
 
 extinguished, the only light remaining was that shed, from the red 
 embers of the decaying fire, which cast so uncertain a glimmer within 
 the cabin that its effect was almost worse than utter darkness to a timid 
 person, for any object within its range assumed a form unlike its own, 
 and presented some fantastic image to the eye ; and as Oonah, contrary 
 to her usual habit, could not fall asleep the moment she went to bed, 
 she could not resist peering forth from under the bed-clothes through 
 the uncertain gloom, in a painful state of watchfulness, which became 
 gradually relaxed into an uneasy sleep. 
 
 The night was about half spent when Andy began to awake ; and as 
 he stretched his arms, and rolled his whole body round, he struck the 
 bottom of the bed above him, in the action, and woke his mother. 
 " Dear me," thought the widow, "I can't sleep at all to-night." Andy 
 gave another turn soon after, which roused Oonah. She started, and 
 shaking her aunt, asked her, in a low voice, if it was she who kicked her, 
 though she scarcely hoped an answer in the affirmative, and yet dared 
 not believe what her fears whispered. 
 
 " No, a cushla,'" whispered the aunt. 
 
 " Did you feel anything? " asked Oonah, trembling violently. 
 
 " What do you mane, alanna?" said the aunt. - • 
 
 Andy gave another roll. " There it is again !" gasped Oonah : and 
 in a whisper, scarcely above her breath, she added, " Aunt, — there's 
 some one under the bed !" 
 
 The aunt did not answer ; but the two women drew closer together, 
 and held each other in their arms, as if their proximity afforded protec- 
 tion. Thus they lay in breathless fear for some minutes, while Andv 
 began to be influenced by a vision, in which the duel, and the chase, and 
 the thrashing, were all enacted over again, and soon an odd word began 
 to escape from the dreamer : — " Gi' me the pist'l, Dick — the pist'l ! " 
 
 " There are two of them!" whispered Oonah. ' God be merciful 
 to us ! — Do you hear him asking for the pistol ? " 
 
 " Screech ! " said her aunt. 
 
 " I can't," said Oonah. 
 
 Andy was quiet for some time, while the women scarcely breathed. 
 
 " Suppose we get up, and make for the door ?" said the aunt. 
 
 M I wouldn't put my foot out of the bed for the world," said Oonah. 
 " I'm afeard one o' them would catch me by the leg." 
 
 " Howld him ! howld him ! " grumbled Andy. 
 
 " I'll die with the fright, aunt! I feel I'm dyin' ! Let us say our 
 prayers, aunt, for we're goin' to be murdhered ! " The two women began 
 to repeat with fervour their aves and paternosters, while at this imme- 
 diate juncture Andy's dream having borne him to the dirty ditch where 
 Dick Dawson had pommelled him, he began to vociferate, " Murder ! 
 murder!" so fiercely, that the women screamed together in an agony 
 of terror, and " Murder ! murder ! " was shouted by the whole party ; 
 for once the widow and Oonah found their voices, they made good use 
 of them. The noise awoke Andy, who had, be it rer embered, a 
 tolerably long sleep by this time ; and he having quite forgotten where 
 he had lain down, and finding himself confined by the bed above him, 
 and smothering for want of air, with the fierce shouts of murder ringing 
 
62 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 in his ears, woke in as great a fright as the women in the bed, and 
 became a party in the terror he himself had produced ; every plunge 
 he gave under the bed inflicted a poke or a kick on his mother and 
 cousin, which was answered by the cry of " Murder ! " 
 
 " Let me out! Let me out, Misther Dick ! " roared Andy. " Where 
 am I at all? Let me out!" 
 
 ** Help, help ! murdher ! " roared the women. 
 
 " I'll never shoot any one again, Misther Dick — lei me up !" 
 
 Andy scrambled from under the bed, half awake, and whole frightened 
 by the darkness and the noise, which was now increased by the barking 
 of the cur-dog. 
 
 " High! at him, Coaly!" roared Mrs. Rooney ; "howld him! howld 
 him ! " 
 
 Now as this address was often made to the cur respecting the pig, 
 when Mrs. Rooney sometimes wanted a quiet moment in the day, and 
 the pig didn't like quitting the premises, the dog ran to the corner of 
 the cabin where the pig habitually lodged, and laid hold of his ear with 
 the strongest testimonials of affection, which polite attention the pig 
 acknowledged by a prolonged squealing, that drowned the voices of the 
 women and Andy together; and now the cocks and hens that were 
 roosting on the rafters of the cabin, were startled by the din, and the 
 crowing and cackling, and the flapping of the frightened fowls as they 
 flew about in the dark, added to the general uproar and confusion. 
 
 " A h ! " screamed Oonah, " take your hands off me ! " as Andy, 
 
 getting from under the bed, laid his hand upon it to assist him, and 
 caught a grip of his cousin. 
 
 " Who are you at all ? " cried Andy, making another claw, and 
 catching hold of his mother's nose. 
 
 " Oonah, they're murdhering me!" shouted the widow. 
 
 The name of Oonah, and the voice of his mother, recalled his senses 
 to Andy, who shouted, " Mother, mother! what's the matter?" A 
 frightened hen flew in his face, and nearly knocked Andy down. " Bad 
 cess to you," cried Andy, " what do you hit me for?" 
 
 " Who are you at all ?'' cried the widow. 
 
 " Don't you know me ? " said Andy. 
 
 " No, I don't know you ; by the vartue o' my oath, I don't ; and I'll 
 never swear again' you, jintlemen, if you lave the place, and spare our 
 lives!" 
 
 Here the hens flew against the dresser, and smash went the plates 
 and dishes. 
 
 " Oh, jintlemen, dear, don't rack and ruin me that way : don't 
 desthroy a lone woman ! " 
 
 " Mother, mother, what's this at all ? Don't you know your own 
 Andy ? " 
 
 " Is it you that's there?" cried the widow, catching hold of him. 
 
 " To be sure it's me," said Andy. 
 
 " You won't let us be murdhered, will you ? " 
 
 " Who'd murdher you?" 
 
 " Them people that's with you." Smash went another plate. " Do 
 you hear that ? they're rackin' my place, the villains ! " 
 
HANDY ANDY. 63 
 
 '♦ Divil a one's wid rae at all i" said Andy. _ 
 
 " I'll take my oath there was three or four under the bed," said Oonah. 
 
 " Not one but myself," said Andy, 
 
 " Are you sure?" said his mother. 
 
 " Cock sure !" said Andy; and a loud crowing gave evidence in 
 favour of his assertion. 
 
 " The fowls is going mad," said the widow. 
 
 " And the pig's distracted," said Oonah. 
 
 " No wonder ; the dog's murdherin' him," said Andy. 
 
 " Get up and light the rushlight, Oonah," said the widow ; " you'll 
 get a spark out o' the turf cendhers." 
 
 " Some o' them will catch me, maybe !" said Oonah. 
 
 " Get up, I tell you," said the widow. 
 
 Oonah now arose, and groped her way to the fire-place, where by 
 dint of blowing upon the embers, and poking the rushlight among the 
 turf ashes, a light was at length obtained. She then returned to the 
 bed, and threw her petticoat over her shoulders. 
 
 " What's this at all ? " said the widow rising, and wrapping a blanket 
 round her. 
 
 " Bad cess to the know I know ! " said Andy. 
 
 " Look under the bed, Oonah," said the aunt. 
 
 Oonah obeyed, and screamed, and ran behind Andy. " There's 
 another here yet ! " said she. 
 
 Andy seized the poker, and standing on the defensive, desired the 
 villain to come out: the demand was not complied with. 
 
 " There's nobody there," said Andy. 
 
 " I'll take my oath there is," said Oonah ; " a dirty blackguard 
 without any clothes on him." 
 
 " Come out, you robber!" said Andy, making a lunge under the 
 truckle. 
 
 A grunt ensued, and out rushed the pig, who had escaped from the 
 dog, the dog having discovered a greater attraction in some fat that 
 was knocked from the dresser, which the widow intended for the dipping 
 of rushes in; but the dog being enlightened to his own interest without 
 rushlights, and preferring mutton fat to pig's ear, had suffered the 
 grunter to go at large, while he was captivated by the fat. The clink 
 of a three-legged stool the widow seized to the rescue, was a stronger 
 argument against the dog than he was prepared to answer, and a 
 remnant of fat was preserved from the rapacious Coaly. 
 
 " Where's the rest o' the robbers?" said Oonah : " there's three o' 
 them, I know " 
 
 " You're dhramin'," said Andy. " Divil a robber is here but 
 myself." 
 
 " And what brought you here ? " said his mother. 
 " I was afeard they'd murdher me," said Andy. 
 " Murdher ! " exclaimed die widow and Oonah together, still startled 
 by the very sound of the word. " Who do you mane ? " 
 " Misther Dick," said Andy. 
 
 " Aunt, I tell you," said Oonah, " this is some more of Andy's 
 blundhers. Sure Misther Dawson wouldn't be goin' to murdher any 
 
64 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 one ; let us look round the cabin, and find out who's in it, for I won't 
 be aisy ontil I look into every corner, to see .there's no robbers in the 
 place ; for I tell you again, there was three o' them undher the bed." 
 
 The search was made, and the widow and Oonah at length satisfied 
 that there were no midnight assassins there with long knives to cut their 
 throats ; and then they began to thank God that their lives were safe. 
 
 " But, oh ! look at my chaynee ! " said the widow, clapping her hands, 
 and casting a look of despair at the shattered delf that lay around her ; 
 " look at my chaynee ! " 
 
 u And what was it brought you here ?" said Oonah, facing round on 
 Andy with a dangerous look, rather, in her bright eye. " Will you 
 tell us that ? — what was it ? " 
 
 " I came to save my life, I tell you," said Andy. 
 
 " To put us in dhread of ours, you mane," said Oonah. " Just look 
 at the omadhawn there," said she to her aunt, " standin' with his mouth 
 open, just as if nothin' happened, and he afther frightenin' the lives 
 of us." 
 
 " Thrue for you, alanna^ said her aunt. 
 
 " And would no place sarve you, indeed, but undher our bed, you 
 vagabone?" said his mother, roused to a sense of his delinquency; " to 
 come in like a morodin' villian, as you are, and hide under the bed, 
 and frighten the lives out of us, and rack and ruin my place ! " 
 
 " 'Twas Misther Dick, I tell you," said Andy. 
 
 " Bad scran to you, you tmlooky hangin' bone thief! " cried the 
 widow, seizing him by the hair, and giving him a hearty cuff on the 
 ear, which would have knocked him down, only that Oonah kept him 
 up by an equally well applied box on the other. 
 
 " Would you murdher me 1 " shouted Andyj as he saw his mother 
 lay hold of the broom. 
 
 " Ar'n't you afther frightenin' the lives out of us, you dirty, good- 
 for-nothing, mischief-making ! — " 
 
 On poured the torrent of abuse, rendered more impressive by a 
 whack at every word. Andy roared, and the more he roared the more 
 did Oonah and his mother thrash him. So great, indeed, was their 
 zeal in the cause, that the widow's blanket and Oonah's petticoat fell 
 off in the melee, which compels us to put our hands to our eyes, and 
 close the chapter. 
 

 ' ' ' " ' . 
 
HANDY ANDY. 65 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 " Love rales the camp, the court, the grove, 
 And men on earth and saints above ; 
 For Love is Heaven, and Heaven is Love." 
 
 So sang Scott. Quite agreeing with the antithesis of the last line, 
 perhaps in the second, where he talks of men and saints, another view 
 of the subject, or turn of the phrase, might have introduced sinners quite 
 as successfully. This is said without the smallest intention of using the 
 word sinners in a questionable manner. Love, in its purest shape, may 
 lead to sinning on the part of persons least interested in the question ; 
 for is it not a sin, when the folly, or caprice, or selfishness of a third 
 part}' or fourth, makes a trio or quartette of that which nature undoubtedly 
 intended for a duet, and so spoils it ? 
 
 Fathers, mothers, sisters, brothers, uncles, aunts, — ay, and even 
 cousins, — sometimes put in their oar to disturb that stream which is 
 troubled enough without their interference, and, as the bard of 
 Avon says, 
 
 " never did ran smooth." 
 
 And so it was in the case of Fanny Dawson and Edward O'Connor. A 
 piece of innocent fun on the part of her brother, and blind pertinacity 
 — indeed, downright absurdity — on her father's side, interrupted the 
 intercourse of affection, which had subsisted silently for many a long 
 day between the lovers, but was acknowledged at last, with delight to 
 the two whom it most concerned, and satisfaction to all who knew or 
 held them dear. Yet the harmony of this sweet concordance of spirits 
 was marred by youthful frolic and doting absurdity. This welding 
 together of hearts in the purest fire of nature's own contriving, was 
 broken at a blow by a weak old man. Is it too much to call this a sin ? 
 Less mischievous things are branded with the name in the common- 
 place parlance of the world. The cold and phlegmatic may not under- 
 stand this ; but they who can love know how bitterly every after-hour 
 of life may be poisoned with the taint which hapless love has infused 
 into the current of future years, and can believe how many a heart, 
 equal to the highest enterprise, has been palsied by the touch of despair. 
 Sweet and holy is the duty of child to parent; but sacred also is the 
 obligation of those who govern in so hallowed a position. Their rule 
 should be guided by justice ; they should pray for judgment in their 
 mastery. 
 
 Fanny Dawson's father was an odd sort of person. His ancestors 
 were settlers in Ireland of the time of "William the Third, and having 
 won their lands by the sword, it is quite natural the love of arms 
 should have been hereditary in the family. Mr. Dawson, therefore, had 
 
66 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 served many years as a soldier, and was a bit of a martinet, not only in 
 military but all other affairs. His mind was of so tenacious a character, 
 that an impression once received there, became indelible ; and if the 
 Major once made up his mind, or indulged the belief, that such and 
 such things were so and so, the waters of truth could never wash out 
 the mistake : stubbornness had written them there with her own indelible 
 marking ink. 
 
 Now, one of the old gentleman's weak points was a museum of the 
 most heterogeneous nature, consisting of odds and ends from all parts 
 of the world, and appertaining to all subjects. Nothing was too high 
 or too low : — a bronze helmet from the plain of Marathon, which, to 
 the classic eye of an artist, conveyed the idea of a Minerva's head 
 beneath it, would not have been more prized by the Major than a 
 cavalry cap with some bullet mark of which he could tell an anecdote. 
 A certain skin of a tiger he prized much, because the animal had dined on 
 his dearest friend in one of the jungles of Bengal ; also a pistol, which he 
 vouched for as being the one with which Hatfield fired at George the Third; 
 the hammer with which Crawley (of Hessian-boot memory) murdered his 
 landlady ; the string which was on Viotti's violin, when he played before 
 Queen Charlotte ; the horn which was supposed to be in the lantern of 
 Guy Fawkes ; a small piece of the coat worn by the Prince of Orange on his 
 landing in England, and other such relics. But far above these the Major 
 prized the skeleton of a horse's head, which occupied the principal place 
 in his museum. This he declared to be part of the identical horse which 
 bore Duke Shonbergwhen he crossed the Boyne in the celebrated battle 
 so called ; and with whimsical ingenuity he had contrived to string 
 some wires upon the bony fabric, which yielded a sort of hurdy- 
 gurdy vibration to the strings when touched; and the Major's most 
 favourite feat was to play the tune of the Boyne Water on the head of 
 Duke Shonberg's horse. In short, his collection was composed of 
 trifles from north, south, east, and west. Some leaf from the prodigal 
 verdure of India, or gorgeous shell from the Pacific, or paw of bear, or 
 tooth of walruss ; but beyond all teeth, one pre-eminently was valued, 
 — it was one of his own, which he had lost the use of by a wound in 
 the jaw, received in action; and no one ever entered his house and 
 escaped without hearing all about it, from the first shot fired in the 
 affair by the skirmishers, to the last charge of the victorious cavalry. 
 The tooth was always produced along with the story, together with the 
 declaration, that every dentist who ever saw it protested it was the 
 largest human tooth ever seen. Now some little sparring was not un- 
 frequent between old Mr. Dawson and Edward, on the subject of their 
 respective museums ; the old gentleman " poo-pooing " Edward's 
 " rotten, rusty rubbish," as he called it, and Edward defending, as 
 gently as he could, his patriotic partiality for national antiquities. This 
 little war never led to any evil results ; for Edward not only loved 
 Fanny too well, but respected age too much, to lean hard on the old 
 gentleman's weakness, or seek to reduce his fancied superiority as a 
 collector ; but the tooth, the ill-omened tooth, at last gnawed asunder 
 the bond of friendship and affection which had subsisted between two 
 families for so many years. 
 
HANDY ANDY. G7 
 
 The Major had paraded his tooth so often, that Dick Dawson began 
 to tire of it, and for the purpose of making it a source of amusement to 
 himself, he stole his father's keys one day, and opening the cabinet in 
 which his tooth was enshrined, he abstracted the grinder which Nature 
 bad bestowed on the Major, and substituted in its stead a horse's tooth, 
 of no contemptible dimensions. A party some days after dined with 
 the old gentleman, and after dinner the story of the skirmish turned up, 
 as a matter of course, and the enormous size of the tooth wound up the 
 tedious tale. 
 
 " Hadn't you better show it to them, sir?" said Dick from the foot of 
 the table. 
 
 " Indeed, then, I will," said the Major ; " for it really is a 
 curiosity." 
 
 " Let me go for it, sir," said Dick, well knowing he would be 
 refused. 
 
 " No, no," answered his father, rising ; " I never let any one go to 
 my pet cabinet but myself;" and so saying he left the room, and pro- 
 ceeded to his museum. It has been already said that the Major's mind 
 was of that character, which once being satisfied of anything, could 
 never be convinced to the contrary ; and having for years been in the habit 
 of drawing his own tooth out of his own cabinet, the increased size never 
 struck him of the one which he now extracted from it ; so he returned to 
 the dining-room, and presented with great exultation to the company 
 the tooth Dick had substituted. It may be imagined how the people 
 stared, when an old gentleman, and moreover a Major, declared upon his 
 honour, that a great horse's tooth was his own ; but having done so, 
 politeness forbade they should contradict him, more particularly at the 
 head of his own table, so they smothered their smiles, as well as they 
 could, and declared it was the most wonderful tooth they ever beheld; 
 and instead of attempting to question the fact, they launched forth in 
 expressions of admiration and surprise, and the fable, instead of being 
 questioned, was received with welcome, and made food for mirth. The 
 difficulty was not to laugh ; and in the midst of twisted mouths, 
 affected sneezing, and applications of pocket handkerchiefs to rebellious 
 cachinations, Dick, the maker of the joke, sat unmoved, sipping his 
 claret with a serenity which might have roused the envy of a red 
 Indian. 
 
 " I think that's something like a tooth !" said Dick. 
 
 " Prodigious — wonderful — tremendous !"' ran round the board. 
 
 " Give it to me again," said one. 
 
 " Let me look at it once more," said another. 
 
 " Colossal !" exclaimed a third. 
 
 " Gigantic !" shouted all, as the tooth made the circuit of the table. 
 
 The Major was delighted, and never remembered his tooth to have 
 created such a sensation ; and when at last it was returned to him, he 
 turned it about in his own hand, and cast many fond glances at the 
 monstrosity, before it was finally deposited in his waistcoat pocket. This 
 was the most ridiculous part of the exhibition : to see a gentleman, with 
 the use of his eyes, looking affectionately at a thumping horse's tooth, 
 and believing it to be his own. Yet this was a key to the Major's whole 
 
68 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 character. A received opinion was with him unchangeable ; no 
 alteration of circumstances could shake it : it was his tooth. A belief 
 or a doubt was equally sacred with him ; and though his senses in the 
 present case should have shown him it was a horse's tooth, — no, it was a 
 piece of himself — his own dear tooth. 
 
 After this party, the success which crowned his anecdote and its 
 attendant relic, made him fonder of showing it off ; and many a day did 
 Dick the devil enjoy the astonishment of visitors as his father exhibited 
 the enormous tooth as his own. Fonder and fonder grew the Major of 
 his tooth and his story, until the unlucky day Edward O'Connor hap- 
 pened to be in the museum with a party of ladies, to whom the old 
 gentleman was showing off his treasures with great effect, and some 
 pains ; for the Major, like most old soldiers, was very attentive to the fair 
 sex. At last the pet cabinet was opened, and out came the tooth. One 
 universal exclamation of surprise arose on its appearance: " What a 
 wonderful man the Major was to have such a tooth ! " Just then, by an 
 unlucky chance, Edward, who had not seen the Major produce the 
 wonder from his cabinet, perceived the relic in the hand of one of the 
 ladies at the extremity of the group, and fancying it had dropped from 
 the horse's head, he said, — 
 
 " I suppose that is one of the teeth out of old Shonberg's skull." 
 
 The Major thought this an impertinent allusion to his political bias, 
 and said, very sharply, " What do you mean by old Shonberg ?" 
 
 "The horse's head, sir," replied Edward, pointing to the musical relic. 
 
 " It was of my tooth you spoke, sir, when you said old Shonberg," 
 returned the Major, still more offended at what he considered Edward's 
 evasion. 
 
 " I assure you,'' said Edward, with the strongest evidence of a desire 
 to be reconciled in his voice and manner, — " I assure you, sir, it was of 
 this tooth I spoke ;" and he held up the one the Major had produced as 
 his own. 
 
 " I know it was, sir," said the Major, " and therefore I did'nt relish 
 your allusions to my tooth." 
 
 " Your tooth, sir ?" exclaimed Edward, in surprise. 
 
 "Yes, sir, — mine!" 
 
 " My dear sir," said Edward, " there is some mistake here ; this is a 
 horse's tooth." 
 
 " Give it to me, sir !" said the Major, snatching it from Edward. 
 "You may think this very witty, Mr. O'Connor, but / don't ; if my 
 tooth is of superhuman size, I'm not to be called a horse for it, sir! — 
 nor Shonberg, sir ! — horse — a-hem ! — better than ass, however !" 
 
 While this brief but angry outbreak took place, the bystanders, of 
 course, felt excessively uncomfortable ; and poor Edward knew not what 
 to do. The Major he knew to be of too violent a temper to attempt 
 explanation for the present ; so, bowing to the ladies, he left the room, 
 with that flushed look of silent vexation to which courteous youth is 
 Bometimes obliged to submit at the hands of intemperate age. 
 
 Neither Fanny nor Dick was at home when this occurred, so Ed- 
 ward quitted the house, and was forbidden to enter it afterwards. The 
 Major suddenly entertained a violent dislike to Edward O'Connor, and 
 
HANDY ANDY. 6[) 
 
 hated even to hear his name mentioned. It was in vain that explanation 
 was attempted : his self-love had received a violent shock, of which 
 Edward had been the innocent means. In vain did Dick endeavour to 
 make himself the peace-offering to his father's wounded consequence ; 
 in vain was it manifest that Fanny was grieved : the old Major per- 
 sisted in declaring that Edward O'Connor was a self-sufficient jacka- 
 napes, and forbade most peremptorily that further intercourse should 
 take place between him and his daughter; and she had too high a 
 sense of duty, and he of honour, to seek to violate the command. But 
 though they never met, they loved not the less fondly and truly; and 
 Dick, grieved that a frolic of his should have interrupted the happiness 
 of a sister he loved and a friend he valued, kept up a sort of communion 
 between them by talking to Edward about Fanny, and to Fanny about 
 Edward, whose last song was sure, through the good offices of the 
 brother, to find its way into the sister's album, already stored with many 
 a tribute from her lover's muse. 
 
 Fanny was a sweet creature — one of those choice and piquant bits of 
 Nature's creation which she sometimes vouchsafes to treat the world 
 with, just to show what she can do. Her person I shall not attempt to 
 describe ; for however one may endeavour to make words play the part 
 of colour, lineament, voice, and expression — and however successfully, 
 — still a verbal description can never convey a true notion of personal 
 charms ; and personal charms Fanny had, decidedly ; not that she was 
 strictly beautiful, but, at times, nevertheless, eclipsing beauty far more 
 regular, and throwing symmetry into the shade, by some charm which 
 even they whom it fascinated could not define. 
 
 Her mind was as clear and pure as a mountain stream ; and if at times 
 it chafed and was troubled from the course in which it ran, the tempo- 
 rary turbulence only made its limpid depth and quietness more beauti- 
 ful. Her heart was the very temple of generosity, the throne of honour, 
 and the seat of tenderness. The gentlest sympathies dwelt in her soul, 
 and answered to the slightest call of another's grief; while mirth was 
 dancing in her eye, a word that implied the sorrow of another would 
 bring a tear there. She was the sweetest creature in the world ! 
 
 The old Major, used to roving habits from his profession, would 
 often go on a ramble somewhere for weeks together, at which times 
 Fanny went to Merry vale to her sister, Mistress Egan, who was also a 
 fine-hearted creature, but less soft and sentimental than Fanny. She 
 was of the dashing school rather, and before she became the mother of 
 so large a family, thought very little of riding over a gate or a fence. 
 Indeed it was her high mettle that won her the squire's heart. The story 
 is not long, and it may as well be told here — though a little out of place, 
 perhaps ; but it's an Irish story, and may therefore be gently irregular 
 
 The squire had admired Letitia Dawson as most of the young men 
 of her acquaintance did — appreciated her round waist and well-turned 
 ankle, her spirited eyes and cheerful laugh, and danced with her at 
 every ball as much as any other fine girl in the country ; but never 
 seriously thought of her as a wife, until one day a party visited the 
 parish church, whose old tower was often ascended for the fine view it 
 commanded. At this time the tower was under repair, and the masons 
 
70 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 were drawing up materials in a basket, which, worked by rope and pulley, 
 swung on. a beam protruding from the top of the tower. The basket 
 had just been lowered for afresh load of stones, when Letitia exclaimed, 
 " Wouldn't it be fine fun to get into the basket and be hauled up to the 
 top of the tower? — how astonished the workmen would be to see a lady 
 get out of it !." 
 
 " I would be more astonished to see a lady get into it," said a gentle- 
 man present. 
 
 " Then here goes to astonish you," said Letitia, laying hold of the 
 rope and jumping into the basket. In vain did her friends and the 
 workmen below endeavour to dissuade her ; up she would go, and up 
 she did go; and it was during her ascent that Egan and a friend were 
 riding towards the church. Their attention was attracted by so strange 
 a sight; and, spurring onward, Egan exclaimed, " By the powers, 'tis 
 Letty Dawson ! — Well done, Letty ! — you're the right girl for my 
 money ! — by Jove, if ever I marry, Letty's the woman !" And sure 
 enough she was the woman, in another month. 
 
 Now, Fanny would not have done the basket feat, but she had plenty 
 of fun in her, notwithstanding ; her spirits were light ; and though, for 
 some time, she felt deeply the separation from Edward, she rallied after 
 a while, felt that unavailing sorrow but impaired the health of the 
 mind, and, supported by her good sense, she waited in hopefulness for 
 the time that Edward might claim and win her. 
 
 At Merryvale now, all was expectation about the anticipated election. 
 The ladies were making up bows of ribbon for their partizans, and 
 Fanny had been so employed all the morning alone in the drawing- 
 room ; her pretty fingers pinching, and pressing, and stitching the silken 
 favours, while now and then her hand wandered to a wicker basket which 
 lay beside her, to draw forth a scissors or a needlecase. As she worked, 
 a shade of thought crossed her sweet face, like a passing cloud across 
 the sun ; the pretty fingers stopped — the work was laid down — and a 
 small album gently drawn from the neighbouring basket. She opened 
 the book and read ; they were lines of Edward O'Connor's, which she 
 drank into her heart ; they were the last he had written, which her 
 brother had heard him sins and had brought her. 
 
 ©ije Sbncfo.* 
 
 An old man sadly said, 
 " Where's the snow 
 
 That fell the year that's fled": 
 Where's the snow ?" 
 
 As fruitless were the task 
 
 Of many a joy to ask, 
 As the snow ! 
 
 * The Eongs in this work will be published by Duff and Hodgson, 65, Oxford-street 
 

 1 
 
 
HANDY ANDY. 71 
 
 The hope of aii*y birth, 
 
 Like the snow, 
 Is stain'd on reaching earth, 
 
 Like the snow : 
 While 'tis sparkling in the ray 
 'Tis melting fast away, 
 
 Like the snow. 
 
 A cold decei'ful thing 
 
 Is the snow, 
 Though it come on dove-like winj 
 
 The false snow ! 
 'Tis but rain disguis'd appears ; 
 And our hopes are frozen tears, 
 
 Like the snow. 
 
 A tear did course down Fanny's cheek as she read the last couplet ; 
 and, closing the book and replacing it in the little basket; she sighed, 
 and said, " Poor fellow ! — T wish he were not so sad ! " 
 
72 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 Love is of as many patterns, cuts, shapes, and colours, as people's 
 garments ; and the loves of Edward O'Connor and Fanny Dawson had 
 very little resemblance to the tender passion which agitated the breast 
 of the widow Flanagan, and made Tom Durfy her slave. Yet the 
 widow and Tom demand the offices of the chronicler as well as the more 
 elevated pair, and this our veracious history could never get on if we 
 exhausted all our energies upon the more engaging personages, to the 
 neglect of the rest ; your plated handles, scrolls, and mountings, are all 
 very well on your carriage, but it could not move without its plain iron 
 bolts. 
 
 Now the reader must know something of the fair Mistress Flanagan, 
 who was left in very comfortable circumstances by a niggardly husband, 
 who did her the favour to die suddenly one day, to the no small 
 satisfaction of the pleasure-loving widow, who married him in an odd 
 sort of a hurry, and got rid of him as quickly. Mr. Flanagan was 
 engaged in supplying the export provision trade, which, every one knows, 
 is considerable in Ireland ; and his dealings in beef and butter were ex- 
 tensive. This brought him into contact with the farmers for many 
 miles round, whom he met, not only every market day at every market 
 town in the county, but at their own houses, where a knife and fork 
 were always at the service of the rich buyer. One of these was a 
 certain Mat Riley, who, on small means, managed to live, and rear a 
 son and three bouncing, good-looking girls, who helped to make butter, 
 feed calves, and superintend the education of pigs ; and on these 
 active and comely lasses Mr. Flanagan often cast an eye of admiration, 
 with a view to making one of them his wife ; for though he might have 
 had his pick and choice of many fine girls in the towns he dealt in, he 
 thought the simple, thrifty, and industrious habits of a plain farmer's 
 daughter more likely to conduce to his happiness and profit, — for in 
 that, principally, lay the aforesaid happiness of Mr. Flanagan. Now 
 this intention of honouring one of the three Miss Rileys with promo- 
 tion, he never hinted at in the remotest degree, and even in his own 
 mind the thought was mixed up with fat cattle and prices current ;' and 
 it was not until a leisure moment, one day, when he was paying Mat 
 Riley for some of his farming produce, that he broached the subject, 
 thus : — 
 
 "Mat." 
 
 "Sir." 
 
 " Fm thinkin' o' marrying." 
 
 " Well, she'll have a snug house, whoever she is, Misther Flanagan." 
 
 " Them's fine girls o' your's." 
 
 Poor Mat opened his eyes with delight at the prospect of such a 
 
HANDY ANDY. 73 
 
 match -for one of his daughters, and said they were " comely lumps o' 
 girls, sure enough; but what was betther, they wor good." 
 
 " That's what I'm thinking," says Flanagan. — " There's two ten-poun' 
 notes, and a five, and one is six, and one is seven ; and three tenpinnies 
 is two and sixpence ; that's twenty-seven poun' two and sixpence ; eight- 
 pence ha'penny is the lot ; but I haven't copper in my company, Mat." 
 "Oh, no matther, Misther Flanagan. And is it one o' my colleens 
 you've been throwin' the eye at, sir 1 " 
 
 " Yes, Mat, it is. You're askin' too much for them firkins." 
 " Oh, Misther Flanagan, consider it's prime butther. I'll back.-my 
 girls for making up a bit o' butther agen any girls in Ireland ; and my 
 cows is good, and the pasture prime." 
 
 " 'Tis a farthin' a pound too high, Mat ; and the market not lively." 
 " The butther is good, Misther Flanagan ; and not decenther girls in 
 Ireland than the same girls, though I am their father.'' 
 " I'm thinkin' I'll marry one o' them, Mat." 
 
 " Sure an' it's proud I'll be, sir ; — and which o' them is it, maybe ? " 
 " Faith I don't know myself, Mat. Which do you think, yourself?" 
 " Throth, myself doesn't know, — they're all good. Nance is nice, 
 and Biddy's biddable, and Kitty's cute." 
 
 " You're a snug man, Mat ; you ought to be able to give a husband a 
 thrifie with them." 
 
 " Nothing worth your while, anyhow, Misther Flanagan. But sure 
 one o' my girls without a rag to her back, or a tack to her feet, would 
 be betther help to an honest industherin' man, than one o' your showy 
 lantherumswash divils out of a town, that would spend more than she'd 
 bring with her." 
 
 " That's thrue, Mat. I'll marry one o' your girls, I think." 
 " You'll have my blessin', sir ; and proud I'll be — and proud the girl 
 ought to be — that I'll say. And suppose now you'd come over on Sun- 
 day, and take share of a plain man's dinner, and take your pick o' the 
 girls ; — there's a fine bull goose that Nance towld me she'd have ready 
 afther last mass ; for Father Ulick said he'd come and dine with us." 
 
 " I can't, Mat ; I must be in the canal boat on Sunday ; but I'll go 
 and breakfast with you to-morrow, on my way to Billy Mooney's, who 
 has a fine lot of pigs to sell — remarkable fine pigs." 
 " Well, we'll expect you to breakfast, sir." 
 " Mat ; there must be no nonsense about the wedding." 
 " As you plase, sir," 
 
 " Just marry her off, and take her home. Short reckonings make 
 long friends." 
 
 " Thrue foj* you, sir." 
 
 " Nothing to give with the girl, you say ? " 
 " My blessin' only, sir." 
 
 " Well, you must throw in that butther, Mat, and take the farthin' off." 
 " It's yours, sir," said Mat, delighted, loading Flanagan with " good 
 byes " and ' s God save youo," until they should meet next morning at 
 breakfast. 
 
 Mat rode home in great glee at the prospect of providing so well for 
 one of his girls, and told them a man would be there the next morning 
 
74 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 to make choice of one of them for his wife. The girls, very naturally, 
 inquired who the man was ; to which Mat, in the plenitude of patri- 
 archal power, replied, "that was nothing to them ;." and his daughters 
 had sufficient experience of his temper to know there was no use in asking 
 more questions after such an answer. He only added, she would be 
 " well off that should get him." Now, their father being such a bug-a- 
 boo, it is no wonder the girls were willing to take the chance of a good- 
 humoured husband instead of an iron-handed father ; so they set to 
 work to make themselves as smart as possible for the approaching trial 
 of their charms, and a battle royal ensued between the sisters as to the 
 right and title to certain pieces of dress which were hitherto considered 
 a sort of common property amongst them, and which the occasion of a 
 fair, or a pattern,* or market-day, was enough to establish the possession 
 of, by whichever of the girls went to the public place ; but now, when a 
 husband was to be won, privilege of all sorts was pleaded, in which 
 discussion there was more noise than sound reason, and so many violent 
 measures to secure the envied morceaux, that some destruction of finery 
 took place, where there was none to spare ; and, at last, seniority was 
 agreed upon to decide the question of possession ; so that, when Nance 
 had the first plunder of the chest which held all their clothes in common, 
 and Biddy made the second grab, poor Kitty had little left but her ordi- 
 nary rags to appear in. But as in the famous judgment on Ida's mount, 
 it is hinted that Venus carried the day by her scarcity of drapery, so 
 did Kitty conquer by want of clothes ; not that Love sat in judg- 
 ment ; it was Plutus turned the scale. But, to leave metaphor and 
 classic illustration, and go back to Mat Riley's cabin ; the girls were 
 washing, and starching, and ironing all night, and the morning saw them 
 arrayed for conquest ; Flanagan came, and breakfasted, and saw the three 
 girls. A flashy silk handkerchief which Nancy wore, put her hors de 
 combat very soon ; she was set down at once, in his mind, as extrava- 
 gant. Biddy might have had a chance if she had made anything like a 
 fair division with her youngest sister ; but Kitty had been so plundered 
 that her shabbiness won an easy victory over the niggard's heart ; he 
 saw in her " the making of a thrifty wife ;" besides which, she was possi- 
 bly the best looking, and certainly the youngest of the three ; and there 
 is no knowing how far old Flanagan might have been influenced by these 
 considerations. 
 
 He spoke very little to any of the girls ; but when he was leaving the 
 house he said to the father, as he was shaking hands with him, " Mat, 
 I'll do it:" and pointing at Kitty, he added, "That's the one I'll 
 have.'' 
 
 Great was the rage of the elder sisters, for Flanagan Was notoriously 
 a wealthy man, and when he quitted the house, Kitty set up such a 
 shout of laughter, that her father and sisters told her several times 
 " not to make a fool of herself." Still she laughed, and throughout 
 the day sometimes broke out into sudden roars ; and while her sides 
 shook with merriment, she would throw herself into a chair, or lean 
 against the wall, to rest herself after the fatigue of her uproarious mirth. 
 
 * A half-holy half-merry meeting held at some certain place on the day dedicated 
 to the Saint who is supposed to be the patron of the spot :— hence the name "pattern." 
 
HANDY ANDY. 75 
 
 Now Kitty, while she laughed at the discomfiture of her greedy sisters, 
 also laughed at the mistake into which Mr. Flanagan had fallen ; for, as 
 her father said of her, she was " cute," and she more than suspected the 
 cause of Flanagan's choice, and enjoyed the anticipation of his disap- 
 pointment, for she was fonder of dress than either Nancy or Biddy, 
 and revelled in the notion of astonishing " the old niggard," as she 
 called him ; and this she did " many a time and oft." In vain did 
 Flanagan try to keep her extravagance within bounds. She would 
 either wheedle, or reason, or bully, or shame him into doing what she 
 said "was right and proper for a snug man like him." " His house was 
 soon well furnished : she made him get her a jaunting car. She some- 
 times would go to parties, and no one was better dressed than the 
 woman he chose for her rags. He got enraged now and then ; but 
 Kitty pacified him by soft words or daring inventions of her fertile 
 fancy. Once, when he caught her in the fact of wearing a costly 
 crimson silk gown, and stormed, — she soothed him by telling him it was 
 her old black one she had dyed ; and this bouncer, to the great amuse- 
 ment of her female friends, he loved to repeat, as a proof of what a careful 
 contriving creature he had in Kitty. She was naturally quick-witted. 
 She managed him admirably, deceived him into being more comfortable 
 than ever he had been before, and had the laudable ambition of en- 
 deavouring to improve both his and her own condition in every way. 
 She set about educating herself, too, as far as her notions of education 
 went ; and in a few years after her marriage, by judiciously using the 
 means which her husband's wealth afforded her of advancing her 
 position in society, no one could have recognised in the lively and well- 
 dressed Mrs. Flanagan, the gawky daughter of a middling farmer. She 
 was very good-natured, too, towards her sisters, whose condition she 
 took care to improve with her own ; and a very fair match for the eldest 
 was made through her means. The younger one was often staying in 
 her house, dividing her time nearly between the town and her father's 
 farm, and no party which Mrs. Flanagan gave or appeared at, went 
 off without giving Biddy a chance to "settle herself in the world." 
 This was not done without a battle now and then with old Flanagan, 
 whose stinginess would exhibit itself upon occasion ; but at last all let 
 and hinderance to the merry lady ceased, by the sudden death of her old 
 husband, who left her the entire of his property, so that, for the first time, 
 his will was her pleasure. 
 
 After the funeral of the old man, the " disconsolate widow " was with- 
 drawn from her own house by her brother and sister to the farm, which 
 grew to be a much more comfortable place than when Kitty left it, for 
 to have remained in her own house after the loss of " her good man," 
 would have been too hard on " the lone woman." So said her sister 
 and her brother, though, to judge from the widow's eyes, she was not 
 very heart-broken : she cried as much, no doubt, as young widows 
 generally do after old husbands, — and could Kitty be expected to do 
 more ? 
 
 She had not been many days in her widowhood, when Biddy asked 
 her to drive into the town, where Biddy had to do a little shopping, — that 
 great business of ladies' lives. 
 
76 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 " Oh, Biddy, dear, I must not go out so soon." 
 
 " 'Twill do you good, Kitty." 
 
 " I mustn't be seen, you know — 'twouldn't be right, and poor dear 
 Flanagan not buried a week !" 
 
 " Sure, who'll see you ? We'll go in the covered car, and draw the 
 curtains close, and who'll be the wiser?" 
 
 " If I thought no one would see me !" said the widow. 
 
 "Ah, who'll see you ?" exclaimed Biddy. " Come along ; the drive 
 will do you good." 
 
 The widow agreed ; but when Biddy asked for a horse to put to the 
 car, her brother refused, for the only horse not at work he was going to 
 yoke in a cart that moment, to send a lamb to the town. Biddy vowed 
 she would have a horse, and her brother swore the lamb should be 
 served first, till Biddy made a compromise, and agreed to take the lamb 
 under the seat of the car, and thus accommodate all parties. 
 
 Matters being thus accommodated, off the ladies set, the lamb tied 
 neck and heels, and crammed under the seat, and the curtains of the 
 car ready to be drawn at a moment's notice, in case they should meet 
 any one on the road ; for " why should not the poor widow enjoy the 
 fresh air as they drove along?" About halfway to the town, however, 
 the widow suddenly exclaimed, 
 
 " Biddy, draw the curtains !" 
 
 " What's the matter ?" says Biddy. 
 
 " I see him coming after us round the turn o' the road!'' and the 
 widow looked so horrified, and plucked at the curtains so furiously, that 
 Biddy, who was superstitious, thought nothing but old Flanagan's ghost 
 could have produced such an effect ; and began to scream and utter holy 
 ejaculations, until the sight of Tom Durfy riding after them showed her 
 the cause of her sister's alarm. 
 
 " If that divil, Tom Durfy, sees me, he'll tell it all over the country, 
 he's such a quiz ; shove yourself well before the door there, Biddy, that 
 he can't peep into the car. Oh, why did I come out this day ! — I wish 
 your tongue was cut out, Biddy, that asked me!" 
 
 In the meantime Tom Durfy closed on them fast, and began tele- 
 graphing Biddy, who, according to the widow's desire, had shoved her- 
 self well before the door. 
 
 " Pull up, Tim, pull up," said the widow, from the inside of the car, 
 to the driver, whom she thumped in the back at the same time, to 
 impress upon him her meaning, — " turn about, and pretend to drive 
 back! — We'll let that fellow ride on," said she quietly to Biddy. 
 
 Just as this manoeuvre was executed, up came Tom Durfy. 
 
 " How are you, Miss Riley ?" said he, as he drew rein. 
 
 " Pretty well, thank you," said Biddy, putting her head and shoulders 
 through the window, while the widow shrunk back into the corner of 
 the car. 
 
 " How very sudden poor Mr. Flanagan's death was ! I was quite 
 surprised." 
 
 "Yes, indeed," says Biddy, "I was just taking a little drive ; goodbye." 
 
 " I was very much shocked to hear of it," said Tom. 
 
 " 'Twas dreadful," said Biddy. 
 
PI ANDY ANDY. 77 
 
 " How is poor Mrs. Flanagan ?" said Tom. 
 
 " As well as can be expected, -poor thing ! — good bye !" said Biddy, 
 manifestly anxious to cut short the conference. 
 
 This anxiety was so obvious to Tom, who, for the sake of fun, loved 
 cross-purposes dearly, that he determined to push his conversation fur- 
 ther, just because he saw it was unwelcome. 
 
 " To be sure," continued he, " at his time of life — " 
 
 " Very true," said Biddy. " Good morning !" 
 
 " And the season has been very unhealthy." 
 
 " Doctor Growling told me so yesterday," said Biddy ; — " I wonder 
 you're not afraid of stopping in this east wind : colds are very preva- 
 lent. — Good bye !" 
 
 Just now, the Genius of farce, who presides so particularly over all 
 Irish affairs, put it into the lamb's head to bleat. - The sound at first 
 did not strike Tom Durfy as singular, they being near a high hedge, 
 within which it was likely enough a lamb might bleat ; but Biddy, 
 shocked at the thought of being discovered in the fact of making her 
 jaunting car a market cart, reddened up to the eyes, while the widow 
 squeezed herself closer into the corner. 
 
 Tom seeing the increasing embarrassment of Biddy, and her desire 
 to be off, still would talk to her, for the love of mischief. 
 
 "I beg your pardon," he continued, "just one moment more, — I 
 wanted to ask was it not apoplexy, for I heard an odd report about the 
 death." 
 
 " Oh, yes," says Biddy, — " apoplexy — good bye." 
 
 " Did he speak at all ?" asked Tom. 
 
 " Baa!" says the lamb. 
 
 Tom cocked his ears, Biddy grew redder, and the widow crammed 
 her handkerchief into her mouth to endeavour to smother her laughter. 
 
 " I hope poor Mrs. Flanagan bears it well," says Tom. 
 
 " Poor thing !" says Biddy, " she's inconsolable." 
 
 " Baa-a /" says the lamb. 
 
 Biddy spoke louder and faster, the widow kicked with laughing, and 
 Tom then suspected whence the sound proceeded. 
 
 " She does nothing but cry all day !" says Biddy. 
 
 " Baa-a-a /" says the lamb. 
 
 The widow could stand it no longer, and a peal of laughter followed 
 the lamb's bleat. 
 
 " What is all this V said Tom, laying hold of the curtains with 
 relentless hand, and spite of Biddy's screams, rudely unveiling the 
 sanctuary of sorrowing widowhood. Oh ! what a sight for the rising — 
 I beg their pardon — the sinking generation of old gentlemen who take 
 young wives, did Tom behold ! — There was the widow, lying back in 
 the corner, — she who was represented as inconsolable and crying all 
 day, shaking with laughter, and tears, not of sorrow, but irrepressible 
 mirth rolling down a cheek rosy enough for a bride. 
 
 Biddy, of course, joined the shout. Tom roared in an agony of 
 delight. The very driver's risibility rebelled against the habits of respect, 
 and strengthened the chorus, while the lamb, as if conscious of the 
 authorship of the joke, put in a longer and louder baa-a-a-a ! ! ( 
 
7S HANDY ANDY. 
 
 Tom, with all his devilment, had good taste enough to feel it was not 
 a scene to linger on ; so merely giving a merry nod to each of the ladies, 
 he turned about his horse as fast as he could, and rode away in roars of 
 laughter. 
 
 When, in due course of time, the widow again appeared in company, 
 she and Tom Durfy could never meet without smiling at each other. 
 What a pleasant influence lies in mutual smiles; — we love the lips which 
 welcome us without words ! Such sympathetic influence it was that led 
 the widow and Tom to get better and better acquainted, and like each 
 other more and more, until she thought him the pleasantest fellow in the 
 county, and he thought her the handsomest woman : — besides, she had 
 a good fortune. 
 
 The widow, conscious of her charms and her money, did not let Tom, 
 however, lead the quietest life in the world. She liked, with the un- 
 failing propensity of her sex, to vex the man she loved, now and then, 
 and assert her sway over so good-looking a fellow. He, in his turn, 
 played off the widow very well ; and one unfailing source of a mirthful 
 reconciliation on Tom's part, whenever the widow was angry, and that 
 he wanted to bring her back to good humour, was to steal behind her 
 chair, and coaxingly putting his head over her fair shoulder, to pat her 
 gently on her peachy cheek, and cry " Baa ,'" 
 
HANDY ANDY, 19 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Andy was in sad disgrace for some days with his mother ; but, like 
 all mothers, she soon forgave the blunders of her son, — and indeed 
 mothers are well off who have not more than blunders to forgive. Andy 
 did all in his power to make himself useful at home, now that he was 
 out of place and dependent on his mother, and got a day's work here 
 and there when he could. Fortunately the season afforded him more 
 employment than winter months would have done. But the farmers 
 had soon all their crops made up, and when Andy could find no 
 work to be paid for, he set-to to cut the " scrap o' meadow,'' as 
 he called it, on a small field of his mother's. Indeed, it was but 
 a " scrap," for the place where it grew was one of those broken 
 bits of ground, so common in the vicinity of mountain ranges, 
 where rocks, protruding through the soil, give the notion of a very fine 
 crop of stones. Now, this locality gave to Andy the opportunity of 
 exercising a bit of his characteristic ingenuity ; for when the hay was 
 ready for " cocking," he selected a good thumping rock as the founda- 
 tion for his haystack, and the superstructure consequently cut a more 
 respectable figure than one could have anticipated from the appearance 
 of the little crop as it lay on the ground ; and as no vestige of the rock 
 was visible, the widow, when she came out to see the work completed, 
 wondered and rejoiced at the size of her haystack, and said, " God 
 bless you, Andy, but you're the natest hand for puttin' up a bit o' hay 
 I ever seen : throth, I did'nt think there was the half of it in it !" 
 Little did the widow know that the cock of hay was as great a cheat as 
 a bottle of champagne — more than half bottom. It was all very well 
 for the widow to admire her hay; but at last she came to sell it, and 
 such sales are generally effected in Ireland by the purchaser buying 
 " in the lump," as it is called, that is, calculating the value of the hay 
 from the appearance of the stack, as it stands, and drawing it away 
 upon his own cars. Now, as luck would have it, it was Andy's early 
 acquaintance, Owny na Coppal, bought the hay ; and in consideration 
 of the lone woman, gave her as good a price as he could afford, for 
 Owny was an honest, open-hearted fellow, though he was a horse- 
 dealer ; so he paid the widow the price of her hay on the spot, and 
 said he would draw it away at his convenience. 
 
 In a few days Owny's cars and men were sent for this purpose ; but 
 when they came to take the haystack to pieces, the solidity of its centre 
 rather astonished them, — and instead of the cars going back loaded, 
 two had their journey for nothing, and went home empty. Previously 
 to his men leaving the widow's field they spoke to her on the subject, 
 and said, 
 
80 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 " 'Pon my conscience, ma'am, the centre o' your haystack was 
 mighty heavy." 
 
 " Oh, indeed, it's powerful hay," said she. 
 
 " Maybe so," said they ; " but there's not much nourishment in that 
 part of it." 
 
 " Not finer hay in Ireland," said she. 
 
 " What's of it, ma'am," said they. " Faix, we think Mr. Doyle will 
 be talkin' to you about it." And they were quite right ; for Owny 
 became indignant at being overreached, as he thought, and lost no time 
 in going to the widow to tell her so. When he arrived at her cabin, 
 Andy happened to be in the house ; and when the widow raised her 
 voice through the storm of Owny's rage, in protestations that she knew 
 nothing about it, but that " Andy, the darlin', put the cock up with his 
 own hands," then did Owny's passion gather strength. 
 
 " Oh! it's you, you vagabone, is it?" said he, shaking his whip at 
 Andy, with whom he never had had the honour of a conversation since 
 the memorable day when his horse was nearly killed. " So this is 
 more o' your purty work ! Bad cess to you ! wasn't it enough for you 
 to nighhand kill one o' my horses, without plottin' to chate the rest o' 
 them ?" 
 
 " Is it me chate them ?" said Andy. " Throth, I wouldn't wrong a 
 dumb baste for the world." 
 
 " Not he, indeed, Misther Doyle," said the widow. 
 
 " Arrah, woman, don't be talkin' your balderdash to me," said 
 Doyle ; " sure, you took my good money for your hay ?" 
 
 " And sure I gave all I had to you, — what more could I do ?" 
 
 " Tare an ounty, woman ! who ever heerd of sich a thing as coverin' 
 up a rock wid hay, and sellin' it as the rale thing." 
 
 " 'Twas Andy done it, Mr. Doyle ; hand, act, or part, I hadn't 
 in it." 
 
 " Why, then, arn't you ashamed o' yourself?" said Owny Doyle, 
 addressing Andy. 
 
 " Why would I be ashamed?" said Andy. 
 
 " For chatin' — that's the word, sinse you provoke me." 
 
 " What, I done is no chatin'," said Andy ; " I had a blessed 
 example for it." 
 
 " Oh! do you hear this?" shouted Owny, nearly provoked to take 
 the worth of his money out of Andy's ribs. 
 
 " Yes, I say a blessed example," said Andy. " Sure didn't the 
 blessed Saint Pether build his church upon a rock, and why shouldn't 
 I build my cock o' hay on a rock?" 
 
 Owny, with all his rage, could not help laughing at the ridiculous 
 conceit. ''By this and that, Andy," said he, " you're always sayin' or 
 doin' the quarest things in the counthry, bad cess to you !" So he laid 
 his whip upon his little hack instead of Andy, and galloped off. 
 
 Andy went over next day to the neighbouring town, where Owny 
 Doyle kept a little inn and a couple of post-chaises (such as they were), 
 and expressed much sorrow that Owny had been deceived by the 
 appearance of the hay, — " But I'll pay you the differ out o' my wages, 
 Misther Doyle, — in throth I will, — that is, whenever I have any wag^s 
 
HANDY ANDY. 81 
 
 to get, for the Squire turned me off, you see, and I'm out of place 
 this present." 
 
 " Oh, never mind it," said Ownj\ " Sure it was the widow woman 
 got the money, and I don't begrudge it ; and now that it's all past and 
 gone, I forgive you. But tell me, Andy, what put sich a quare thing 
 in your head V 
 
 " Why, you see," said Andy, " I didn't like the poor mother's 
 pride should be let down in the eyes o' the neighbours ; and so I made 
 the weeshy bit o' hay look as dacent as I could, — but at the same time 
 I wouldn't chate any one for the world, Misther Doyle." 
 
 " Throth, I b'lieve you wouldn't, Andy ; but, 'pon my sowl, the 
 next time I go buy bay I'll take care that Saint Pether hasn't any hand 
 in it." 
 
 Owny turned on his heel, and was walking away with that air of 
 satisfaction which men so commonly assume after fancying they have 
 said a good thing, when Andy interrupted his retreat by an interjec- 
 tional " Misther Doyle." 
 
 " Well," said Owny, looking over his shoulder. 
 
 " I was thinkin', sir," said Andy. 
 
 " For the first time in your life, I b'lieve," said Owny ; " and what 
 was it you wor thinkin'? " 
 
 " I was thinkin' o' dhrivin' a chay, sir." 
 
 " And what's that to me ?" said Owny. 
 
 " Sure, I might dhrive one o' your chaises." 
 
 " And kill more o' my horses, Andy, — eh ? No, no, faix ; I'm 
 afeerd o' you, Andy." 
 
 " Not a boy in Ireland knows dhrivin' betther nor me, any way," 
 said Andy. 
 
 " Faix, it's any way and every way but the way you ought, you'd 
 dhrive, sure enough, I b'lieve : but at all events, I don't want a post- 
 boy, Andy, — I have Micky Doolin, and his brother Pether and them's 
 enough for me." 
 
 " Maybe you'd be wantin' a helper in the stable, Misther Doyle ?" 
 
 " No, Andy ; but the first time T want to make hay to advantage 
 I'll send for you," said Owny, laughing as he entered his house, and 
 nodding at Andy, who returned a capacious grin to Owny's shrewd 
 smile, like the exaggerated reflection of a concave mirror. But the grin 
 soon subsided, for men seldom prolong the laugh that is raised at their 
 expense ; and the corners of Andy's mouth turned down as his hand 
 turned up to the back of his head, which he rubbed as he sauntered 
 down the street from Owny Doyle's. 
 
 It was some miles to Andy's home, and night overtook him on the 
 way. As he trudged along in the middle of the road, he was looking 
 up at a waning moon and some few stars twinkling through the gloom, 
 absorbed in many sublime thoughts as to their existence, and wondering 
 what they were made of, when his cogitations were cut short by tumbling 
 over something which lay in the middle of the highway ; and on scramb- 
 ling to his legs again, and seeking to investigate the cause of his fall, he 
 was rather surprised to find a man lying in such a state of insensibility 
 that all Andy's efforts could not rouse him. While he was standing 
 
 G 
 
82 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 over him, undecided as to what he should do, the sound of approaching 
 wheels, and the rapid steps of galloping horses, attracted his attention ; 
 and it became evident that unless the chaise and pair which he now saw 
 in advance were brought to a pull up, the cares of the man in the middle 
 of the road would be very soon over. Andy shouted lustily, but to 
 every " Halloo there!" he gave, the crack of a whip replied, and accele- 
 rated speed, instead of a halt, was the consequence ; at last, in despe- 
 ration, Andy planted himself in the middle of the road, and with 
 outspread arms before the horses, succeeded in arresting their pro- 
 gress, while he shouted " Stop !" at the top of his voice. 
 
 A pistol shot from the chaise was the consequence of Andy's summons, 
 for a certain Mr. Furlong, a foppish young gentleman, travelling from 
 the castle of Dublin, never dreamed that a humane purpose could pro- 
 duce the cry of " Stop " on a horrid Irish road ; and as he was reared 
 in the ridiculous belief that every man ran a great risk of his life who 
 ventured outside the city of Dublin, he travelled with a brace of loaded 
 pistols beside him ; and as he had been anticipating murder and robbery 
 ever since night-fall, he did not await the demand for his " money or 
 his life " to defend both, but fired away the instant he heard the word 
 " Stop ;" and fortunate it was for Andy that the traveller's hurry im- 
 paired his aim. Before he could discharge a second pistol, Andy had 
 screened himself under the horses' heads, and recognising in the pos- 
 tilion his friend Micky Doolin, he shouted out, " Micky, jewel, don't 
 let them be shootin' me !" 
 
 Now Micky's cares were quite enough engaged on his own account ; 
 for the first pistol shot made the horses plunge violently, and the second 
 time Furlong blazed away, set the saddle-horse kicking at such a rate 
 that all Micky's horsemanship was required to preserve his seat. Added 
 to which, the dread of being shot came over him ; and he crouched 
 low oil the grey's neck, holding fast by the mane, and shouting for 
 mercy as well as Andy, who still kept roaring to Mick, "not to let 
 them be shootin' him," while he held his hat above him, in the fashion 
 of a shield, as if that would have proved any protection against a 
 bullet. 
 
 " Who are you at all ?" said Mick. 
 
 " Andy Rooney, sure." 
 
 " And what do you want ?" 
 
 " To save the man's life." 
 
 The last words only caught the ear of the frightened Furlong ; and 
 
 as the phrase " his life " seemed a personal threat to himself, he swore 
 
 a' trembling oath at the postilion that he would shoot him if he did not 
 
 r-tkujve on, for he abjured the use of that rough letter, R, which the Irish 
 
 so much rejoice in. 
 
 " Dwive on, you wascal, dwive on !" exclaimed Mr. Furlong. 
 
 " There's no fear o' you, sir," said Micky, " it's a friend o' my own." 
 
 Mr. Furlong was not quite satisfied that he was therefore the safer. 
 
 " And what is it at all, Andy ?" continued Mick. 
 
 " I tell you there's a man lying dead in the road there, and sure 
 you'll kill him if you dhrive over him : 'light, will you, and help me to 
 rise him." 
 
/ / 
 

HANDY ANDY. 83 
 
 Mick dismounted and assisted Andy in lifting the prostrate man from 
 the centre of the road to the slope of turf which bordered its side. 
 They judged he was not dead, from the warmth of the body, but that 
 he should still sleep seemed astonishing, considering the quantity of 
 shaking and kicking they gave him, 
 
 " I b'lieve it's dhrunk he is," said Mick. 
 
 " He gave a grunt that time," said Andy, — -" shake him again and 
 he'll spake." 
 
 To a fresh shaking the drunken man at last gave some tokens of 
 returning consciousness by making several winding blows at his bene- 
 factors, and uttering some half intelligent maledictions. 
 
 " Bad luck to you, do you know where you are ? " said Mick. 
 
 " Well ! " was the drunken ejaculation. 
 
 " By this and that it's my brother Pether ! " said Mick. " We 
 wondhered what had kept him so late with the return shay, and this is 
 the way, is it ? he tumbled off his horses, dhrunk : and where's the 
 shay, I wonder ? Oh, murdher ! What will Misther Doyle say ? " 
 
 "What's the weason }'ou don't dwive on ?" said Mr. Furlong, put- 
 ting his head out of the chaise. 
 
 " It's one on the road here, your honour, a'most killed." 
 
 " Was it wobbers ? " asked Mr. Furlong. 
 
 " Maybe you'd take him into the shay wid you, sir," 
 
 " What a wequest ! — dwive on, sir ! " 
 
 " Sure I can't lave my brother on the road, sir." 
 
 " Your bwother ! — and you pwesume to put your bwother to wide 
 with me ? You'll put me in the debdest wage if you don't dwive on." 
 
 " Faith, then, I won't dhrive on and lave my brother here on the 
 road." 
 
 " You wascally wappawee ! " exclaimed Furlong. 
 
 " See, Andy," said Micky Doolin, " will you get up and dhrive him, 
 while I stay with Pether ? " 
 
 " To be sure I will," said Andy. " Where is he goin'? " 
 
 " To the Squire's," said Mick ; " and when you lave him there, 
 make haste back, and Til dhrive Pether home." 
 
 Andy mounted into Mick's saddle; and although the traveller " pwo- 
 tested" against it, and threatened " pwoceedings " and " magistwates," 
 Mick was unmoved in his brotherly love. As a last remonstrance, 
 Furlong exclaimed, " And pwehaps this fellow can't wide, and don't 
 know the woad." 
 
 " Is it not know the road to the Squire's ? — wow ! wow !" said Andy. 
 "It's I that'll rattle you there in no time, your honour." 
 
 " Well, wattle away then!" said the enraged traveller, as he threw 
 himself back in the chaise, cursing all the postilions in Ireland. 
 
 Now it was to Squire O'Grady's that Mr. Furlong wanted to go ; but 
 in the confusion of the moment the name of O'Grady never once was 
 mentioned ; and with the title of " Squire " Andy never associated 
 another idea than that of his late master, Mr. Egan. 
 
 Mr. Furlong, it has been stated, was an official of Dublin Castle, and 
 had been despatched on electioneering business, to the county. He 
 was related to a gentleman of the same name, who held a lucrative post 
 
 g 2 
 
84 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 under government, and was well known as an active agent in all affairs 
 requiring what in Ireland was called " Castle influence ; " and this, his 
 relative, was now despatched, for the first time, on a similar employ- 
 ment. By the way, while his name is before one, a little anecdote may 
 be appropriately introduced, illustrative of the wild waggery prevailing 
 in the streets of Dublin in those days. 
 
 Those days were the good old days of true virtue! — When a bishop, 
 who had daughters to marry, would advance a deserving young curate to 
 a good living ; and, not content with that manifestation of his regard, 
 would give him one of his own children for a wife ! Those were the 
 days, when, the country being in danger, fathers were willing to sacri- 
 fice, not only their sons, but their daughters, on the altar of patriotism! 
 Do you doubt it ? — unbelieving and selfish creatures of these degenerate 
 times ! Listen ! A certain father waited upon the Irish Secretary one 
 fine morning, and in that peculiar strain which secretaries of state must 
 be pretty well used to, descanted at some length on the devotion he 
 had always shown to the government, and yet they had given him no 
 proof of their confidence. The Secretary declared they had the highest 
 sense of his merits, and that they had given him their entire confidence. 
 
 " But you have given me nothing else, my lord," was the answer. 
 
 " My dear sir, ot late we have not had any proof of sufficient weight 
 in our gift to convince you." 
 
 " Oh, I beg your pardon, my lord ; there's a majority of the ■ 
 
 Dragoons vacant." 
 
 " Very true, my dear sir ; and if you had a child to devote to the 
 service of your country, no one should have it sooner." 
 
 " Thank you, my lord ! ! ! " said the worthy man, with a low bow, — 
 " then I have a child." 
 
 " Bless me, sir ! I never heard you had a son." 
 
 " No, my lord ; but I have a daughter." 
 
 "A daughter !" said my Lord Secretary, with a look of surprise; 
 " but you forget, sir, — this is a regiment; — a dragoon regiment." 
 
 " Oh, she rides elegant ! " said her father. 
 
 " But, my dear sir, a woman?" 
 
 " Why shouldn't a woman do her duty, my lord, as well as a man, 
 when the country is in danger ? I'm ready to sacrifice my daughter," 
 said the heroic man, with an air worthy of Virginius. 
 
 " My dear sir, this is really impossible ; you know it's impossible." 
 
 " I know no such thing, my lord. But I'll tell you what I know : 
 there's a bill coming on next week, — and there are ten friends of mine 
 who have not made up their minds yet." 
 
 " My dear sir," said the Lord Secretary, squeezing his hand with 
 vehement friendship, " why place us in this dreadful difficulty 1 It 
 would be impossible even to draw up the commission; — fancy 'Major 
 Maria,' or ' Major Margery ! ' " 
 
 "Oh, my lord," said the father, quickly; "I have fancied all that-' 
 long ago, and got a cure ready for it. My wife, not having been 
 blessed with boys, we thought it wise to make the girls ready for any 
 chance that might turn up, and so we christened the eldest George, the 
 second Jack, and the third Tom ; which enables us to call them Georgina, 
 
HANDY ANDY. 
 
 Jacqueline, and Thomasine, in company, while the secret of their real 
 names rest between ourselves and the parish register. Now, my lord, 
 what do you say ? I have George, Jack, and Tom ; — think of your bill." 
 The argument was conclusive, and the patriotic man got the majority 
 of a cavalry corps, with perpetual leave of absence for his daughter 
 Jack, who would much rather have joined the regiment. 
 
 Such were the days in which our Furlong flourished ; and in such 
 days it will not be wondered at that a secretary, when he had no place 
 to give away — invented one. The old saying has it, that " Necessity is 
 the mother of invention ;" but an Irish Secretary can beat Necessity 
 hollow. For example : 
 
 A commission was issued, with a handsome salary to the commissioner, 
 to make a measurement through all the streets of Dublin, ascertaining 
 exact distances from the Castle, from a furlong upwards ; and for many 
 a year did the commission work, inserting handsome stone slabs into 
 the walls of most ignorant houses, till then unconscious of their precise 
 proximity or remoteness from the seat of government. Ever after that, 
 if you saw some portly building, blushing in the pride of red brick, and 
 perfumed with fresh paint, and saw the tablet recording the interesting 
 fact, thus : 
 
 FROM THE CASTLE, 
 ONE FURLONG. 
 
 Fancy might suggest that the house rejoiced, as it were, in its honoured 
 position, and did 
 
 " look so fine and smell so sweet," 
 
 because it was under the nose of Viceroyalty, while the suburbs'revealed 
 poor tatterdemalion tenements, dropping their slates like tears, and 
 uttering their hollow sighs through empty casements, merely because 
 they were " one mile two furlongs from the Castle." But the new 
 stone tablet which told you so., seemed to mock their misery, and looked 
 like a fresh stab into their poor old sides ; as if the rapier of a king had 
 killed a beggar. 
 
 This very original measure of measurement was provocative of ridi- 
 cule, or indignation, as the zmpatient might happen to be infected ; but 
 while the affair was in full blow, Mr. Furlong, who was the commissioner, 
 while walking in Sackville-street one day, had a goodly sheet of paper 
 pinned to his back by some 
 
 -" delicate Roman hand," 
 
 - 
 
 earing in large letters the inversion of one of his own tablets 
 
 ONE FURLONG 
 FROM THE CASTLE. 
 
86 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 And as he swaggered along in conscious dignity, he wondered at the 
 shouts of laughter ringing behind him, and turned round occasionally 
 to see the cause ; but ever as he turned, faces were screwed up into 
 seriousness, while the laughter rang again in his rear. Furlong was 
 bewildered ; and much as he was used to the mirthfulness of an Irish 
 populace, he certainly did wonder what fiend of fun possessed them 
 that day, until the hall-porter of the Secretary's Office solved the enigma 
 by respectfully asking would he not take the placard from his back 
 before he presented himself. The Mister Furlong who is engaged in 
 our story was the nephew of the man of measurement memory ;-and his 
 mother, a vulgar woman, sent her son to England to be educated, that 
 he might " pickup the ax'nt; 'twas so jinteel, the Inglish ax'nt !" And 
 accordingly, the youth endeavoured all he could to become ««-Irish in 
 every thing, and was taught to believe that all the virtue and wisdom 
 in Ireland was vested in the Castle and hangers-on thereof, and that the 
 mere people were worse than savages. 
 
 With such feelings it was that this English Irishman, employed to 
 open negotiations between the government and Squire O'Grady, visited 
 the wilds of Ireland ; and the circumstances attendant on the stopping 
 of the chaise, afforded the peculiar genius of Handy Andy an oppor- 
 tunity of making a glorious confusion, by driving the political enemy of 
 the sitting member into his house, where, by a curious coincidence, a 
 strange gentleman was expected every day, on a short visit. After 
 Andy had driven some time, he turned round and spoke to Mr. Furlong 
 through the pane of glass with which the front window-frame of the 
 chaise was not furnished. 
 
 " Faix, you wor nigh shootin' me, your honour," said Andy. 
 
 " I should not wepwoach myself, if I had," said Mr. Furlong, " when 
 you quied stop on the woad : wobbers always qui stop, and I took you 
 for a wobber." 
 
 " Faix, the robbers here, your honour, never axes you to stop at all, 
 but they stop you without axin', or by your lave, or wid your lave. 
 Sure I was only afeerd you'd dhrive over the man in the road." 
 
 " What was that man in the woad doing?" 
 
 " Nothin' at all, faith, for he wasn't able ; he was dhrunk, sir." 
 
 " The postilion said he was his bwother." 
 
 " Yis, your honour, and he's a postilion himself — only he lost his 
 horses and the shay — he got dhrunk, and fell off." 
 
 " Those wascally postilions often get dwunk, I suppose." 
 
 " Oh, common enough, sir, particlar now about the 'lection time ; 
 for the gintlemin is dhrivin' over the counthry like mad, right and left, 
 and gives the boys money to dhrink their health, till they are killed 
 a'most with the falls they get." 
 
 " Then postilions often fall on the woads here ?" 
 
 " Throth the roads is covered with them sometimes, when the 'lections 
 comes an." 
 
 " What howwid immowality ! I hope you're not dwunk ?" 
 
 " Faix, I wish I was," said Andy. " It's a great while since I had a 
 dhrop ; but it won't be long so, when your honour gives me something 
 to dhrink your health." 
 
HANDY ANDY. 87 
 
 <5 Well, don't talk, but dwive on." 
 
 All Andy's further endeavours to get " his honour" into conversation 
 were unavailing ; so he whipped on in silence till his arrival at the gate- 
 house of Merryvale demanded his call for entrance. 
 
 "What are you shouting there for?" said the traveller; " cawn't 
 you wing ?" 
 
 " Oh, they undherstand the shilloo as well, sir:" and in confirmation 
 of Andy's assurance, the bars of the entrance gate were withdrawn, and 
 the post-chaise rattled up the avenue to the house. 
 
 Andy alighted and gave a thundering tantara-ra at the door. The 
 servant who opened it was surprised at the sight of Andy, and could not 
 repress a shout of wonder. 
 
 Here Dick Dawson came into the hall, and seeing Andy at the door, 
 gave a loud halloo, and clapped his hands in delight — for he had not seen 
 him since the day of the chase. — " An' is it there you are again, you 
 unlucky vagabone ?" said Dick ; " and what brings you here ?" 
 
 " I come with a jintleman to the masther, misther Dick." 
 
 " Oh ! it's the visitor, I suppose," said Dick, as he himself .went out 
 with that unceremonious readiness, so characteristic of the wild fellow 
 he was, to open the door of the chaise for his brother-in-law's guest. 
 "You're welcome," said Dick ; — "come, step in, — the servants will 
 
 look to your luggage. James, get in Mr. 1 beg your pardon, but 
 
 'pon my soul I forgot your name, though Moriarty told me." 
 
 " Mr. Furlong," gently uttered the youth. 
 
 " Get in the luggage, James. Come, sir, walk into the dinner-room ; 
 we haven't finished our wine yet." With these words Dick ushered 
 in Furlong to the apartment where Squire Egan sat, who rose as they 
 entered. 
 
 " Mr. Furlong, Ned," said Dick. 
 
 " Happy to see you, Mr. Furlong," said the hearty Squire, who shook 
 Furlong's* hand in what Furlong considered a most savage manner. 
 " You seem fatigued." 
 
 " Vewy," was the languid reply of the traveller, as he threw himself 
 into a chair. 
 
 " Ring the bell for more claret, Dick," said Squire Egan. 
 
 " I neveh dwink." 
 
 Dick and the Squire both looked at him with amazement, for in the 
 friend of Moriarty they expected to find a hearty fellow. 
 
 " A cool bottle wouldn't do a child any harm," said the Squire. 
 " Ring, Dick. And now, Mr. Furlong, tell us how you like the country." 
 
 " Not much, I pwotest." 
 
 " What do you think of the people ?" 
 
 " Oh, I don't know : you'll pawdon me, but — a — in short, there are 
 so many wags." 
 
 " Oh, there are wags enough, I grant ; not funnier d — Is in the 
 world." 
 
 " But I mean ivags — tatters, T mean." 
 
 " Oh, rags. Oh, yes — why indeed they've not much clothes to 
 spare." 
 
 " And yet these wetches are fweeholders, I'm told." 
 
8£ HANDY ANDY. 
 
 " Ay, and stout voters too." 
 
 " Well, that's all we wequire. By the by, how goes on the can- 
 vass, Squire ?" 
 
 " Famously." 
 
 " Oh, wait till I explain to you our plan of opewations from head- 
 qwaters. You'll see how famously we shall wally at the hustings. 
 These Iwish have no idea of tactics : we'll intwoduce the English 
 mode-'-take them by supwise. We must unseat him." 
 
 " Unseat who ?" said the Squire. 
 
 " That — a — Egan, I think you call him." 
 
 The Squire opened his eyes ; but Dick, with the ready devilment 
 that was always about him, saw how the land lay in an instant, and 
 making a signal to his brother-in-law, chimed in with an immediate 
 assent to Furlong's assertion, and swore that Egan would be unseated 
 to a certainty. " Come, sir," added Dick, ' : fill one bumper at least 
 to a toast I propose. — Here's ' Confusion to Egan, and success to 
 O'Grady.'" , 
 
 " Success to O'Gwady," faintly echoed Furlong, as he sipped his 
 claret. " These Iwish are so wild — so uncultivated," continued he ; 
 " you'll see how I'll supwise them with some of my plans." 
 
 " Oh, they're poor ignorant brutes," said Dick, " that know nothing: 
 a man of the world like you would buy and sell them." 
 
 " You see they've no finesse ; they have a certain degwee of weadi- 
 ness, but no depth — no weal finesse. " 
 
 " Not as much as would physic a snipe," said Dick, who swallowed 
 a glass of claret to conceal a smile. 
 
 " What's that you say about snipes and physic V said Furlong ; 
 " what queer things you Iwish do say." 
 
 " Oh, we've plenty o' queer fellows here," said Dick ; — " but you 
 are not taking your claret." 
 
 " The twuth is, I am fatigued — vewy — and if you'd allow me, 
 Mr. O'Gwady, I should like to go to my woom ; we'll talk over busi- 
 ness to-mowwow." 
 
 " Certainly," said the Squire, who was glad to get rid of him, for the 
 scene was becoming too much for his gravity. So Dick Dawson lighted 
 Furlong to his room, and after heaping civilities upon him left him to 
 sleep in the camp of his enemies, and then returned to the dining-room 
 to enjoy with the Squire the laugh they were so long obliged to repress, 
 and to drink another bottle of claret on the strength of the joke. 
 
 " What shall we do with him, Dick V said the Squire. 
 
 " Pump him as dry as a lime kiln," said Dick, " and then send him 
 off to O'Grady — all's fair in war." 
 
 " To be sure," said the Squire. " Unseat me, indeed ! he was near 
 it, sure enough, for I thought I'd have dropped off my chair with sur- 
 prise when he said it." 
 
 " And the conceit and impudence of the fellow," said Dick. " The 
 ignorant Iwish — nothing will serve him but abusing his own country- 
 men ! — ' The ignorant Irish' — Oh, is that all you learned in Oxford, my 
 boy ?— just wait, my buck — if I don't astonish your weak mind, it's no 
 matter ! " 
 
HANDY ANDY. S9 
 
 " Faith he has brought his pigs to a pretty market here," said the 
 Squire ; " but how did he come here? how was the mistake made ? " 
 
 " The way every mistake in the country is made," said Dick ; 
 " Handy Andy drove him here." 
 
 " More power to you, Andy," said the Squire. " Come, Dick, we'll 
 drink Andy's health — this is a mistake on the right side." 
 
 And Andy's health was drunk, as well as several other healths. In 
 short, the Squire and Dick the Devil were in high glee — the dining- 
 room rang with laughter to a late hour ; and the next morning a great 
 many empty claret bottles were on the table — and a few on the floor. 
 
90 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 Notwithstanding the deep potations of the Squire and Dick Daw- 
 son the night before, both were too much excited by the arrival of 
 Furlong to permit their being laggards in the morning ; they were up 
 and in consultation at an early hour, for the purpose of carrying on 
 prosperously the mystification so well begun on the Castle agent. 
 
 " Now, first of all, Dick," said the Squire, " is it fair, do you think ? " 
 
 " Fair! " said Dick, opening his eyes in astonishment. "Why, who 
 ever heard of any one questioning anything being fair in love, war, or 
 electioneering; — to be sure, it's fair — and more particularly when the 
 conceited coxcomb has been telling us how he'll astonish with his 
 plans the poor ignorant Irish, whom he holds in such contempt. Now 
 let me alone, and I'll get all his plans out of him — turn him inside out 
 like a glove, pump him as dry as a pond in the summer, squeeze him 
 like a lemon — and let him see whether the poor ignorant Iwish, as he 
 softly calls us, are not an overmatch for him, at the finesse upon which 
 he seems so much to pride himself." 
 
 " Egad ! I believe you're right, Dick," said the Squire, whose 
 qualms were quite overcome by the argument last advanced ; for if one 
 thing more than another provoked him, it was the impertinent self- 
 conceit of presuming and shallow strangers, who fancied their hackneyed 
 and cut-and-dry knowledge of the common places of the world gave 
 them a mental elevation above an intelligent people of primitive habits, 
 whose simplicity of life is so often set down to stupidity, whose content- 
 ment under privation is frequently attributed to laziness, and whose 
 poverty is constantly coupled with the epithet " ignorant." " A poor 
 ignorant creature,'' indeed is a common term of reproach, as if poverty 
 and ignorance must be inseparable. If a list could be obtained of the 
 rich ignorant people, it would be no nattering document to stick on the 
 door of the temple of Mammon. 
 
 " Well, Ned," said Dick, " as you agree to do the Englishman, 
 Murphy will be a grand help to us ; it is the very thing he will have 
 his heart in. Murtough will be worth his weight in gold to us : I will 
 ride over to him and bring him back with me to spend the day here; 
 and you in the mean time can put every one about the house on their 
 guard not to spoil the fun by letting the cat out of the bag too soon ; 
 we'll shake her ourselves in good time, and maybe we won't have fun in 
 the hunt ! " 
 
 " You're right, Dick. Murphy is the very man for our money. Do 
 you be off for him, and I will take care that all shall be right at home 
 here." 
 
HANDY ANDY. 91 
 
 In ten minutes more Dick was in his saddle, and riding hard for 
 Murtough Murphy's. A good horse and a sharp pair of spurs were 
 not long in placing him vis-a-vis with the merry attorney, whom he 
 found in his stable-yard up to his eyes in business with some ragged 
 country fellows, the majority of whom were loud in vociferating their 
 praises of certain dogs ; while Murtough drew from one of them, from 
 time to time, a solemn assurance, given with many significant shakes of 
 the head, and uplifting of hands and eyes, "that it was the finest badger 
 in the world ! " Murtough turned his head on hearing the rattle of the 
 horse's feet, as Dick the Devil dashed into the stable-yard, and with a 
 view-halloo welcomed him. 
 
 "You're just in time, Dick. By the powers, we'll have the finest 
 day's sport you've seen for some time." 
 
 " I think we will," said Dick, " if you will come with me." 
 
 "No; but you come with me," said Murtough. "The grandest 
 badger-fight, sir." 
 
 "Pooh ! " returned Dick ; " I've better fun for you." — He then told 
 him of the accident that conveyed their political enemy into their toils. 
 " And the beauty of it is," said Dick, " that he has not the remotest 
 suspicion of the condition he's in, and fancies himself able to buy and 
 sell all Ireland — horse-dealers and attorneys included." 
 
 " That's elegant," said Murphy. 
 
 " He's come to enlighten us, Murtough," said Dick. 
 
 " And maybe we won't return the compliment," said Murtough : 
 "just let me put on my boots. Hilloa, you Larry ! saddle the grey. 
 Don't cut the pup's ears till I come home ; and if Mr. Ferguson sends 
 over for the draft of the lease, tell him it won't be ready till to-morrow. 
 Molly! Molly! — where are you, you old divil? Sew on that button 
 for me, — I forgot to tell you yesterday, — make haste ! I won't delay 
 you a moment, Dick. ;■ Stop a minute, though. I say, Lanty Houligan, 
 — mind, on your peril, you old vagabone, don't let them fight that 
 badger without me. Now, Dick, I'll be with you in the twinkling of a 
 bedpost, and do the Englishman, and that_ smart! Bad luck to their 
 conceit! — they think we can do nothing regular in Ireland." 
 
 On his arrival, and hearing how matters stood, Murtough Murphy 
 was in a perfect agony of delight in anticipating the mystification 
 of the kidnapped agent. Dick's intention had been to take him 
 along with them on their canvass, and openly engage him in all their 
 electioneering movements ; but to this Murphy objected, as running 
 too great a risk of discovery. He recommended rather to engage 
 Furlong in amusements which would detain him from O'Grady and his 
 party, and gain time for their side ; to get out of him all the electioneer- 
 ing plot of the other party, indirectly ; but to have as little real elec- 
 tioneering business as possible. " If you do, Dick," said Murphy, 
 " take my word we shall betraj' ourselves somehow or other — he could 
 not be so soft as not to see it ; but let us be content to amuse him with 
 all sorts of absurd stories of Ireland and the Irish— tell him magnificent 
 lies — astonish him with grand materials for a note book, and work him 
 up to publish — that's the plan, sir ! " 
 
 The three conspirators now joined the family party, which had just 
 
92 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 sat down to breakfast. Dick, in his own jolly way, hoped Furlong had 
 slept well. 
 
 " Vewy," said Furlong, as he sipped his tea with an air of peculiar 
 nonchalance which w r as meant to fascinate Fanny Dawson, who, when 
 Furlong addressed to her his first silly commonplace, with his peculiar 
 won-pronunciation of the letter R, established a lisp directly, and it was 
 as much as her sister Mrs. Egan could do to keep her countenance as 
 Fanny went on slaughtering S's as fast as Furlong ruined R's. 
 
 " I'll twouble you for a little mo' queam," said he, holding forth his 
 cup and saucer with an affected air. 
 
 " Perhaps you'd like thum more thcugar," lisped Fanny, lifting the 
 suo-ar-tongs with an exquisite curl of her little finger. 
 
 " I'm glad to hear you slept well," said Dick to Furlong. 
 " To be sure he slept well," said Murphy ; " this is the sleepiest air 
 in the world." 
 
 " The sleepiest air-?" returned Furlong somewhat surprised. " That's 
 vewy odd." 
 
 " Not at all, sir," said Murphy, — " well-known fact. When I first 
 came to this part of the country, I used to sleep for two days together 
 sometimes. Whenever I wanted to rise early I was always obliged to 
 get up the night before." 
 
 This was said by the brazen attorney, from his seat at a side table, 
 which was amply provided with a large dish of boiled potatoes, capacious 
 jugs of milk, a quantity of cold meat and game. Murphy had his 
 mouth half filled with potatoes as he spoke, and swallowed a large 
 draught of milk as the stranger swallowed Murphy's lie. 
 " You don't eat potatoes, I perceive, sir," said Murphy. 
 " Not for bweakfast," said Furlong. 
 " Do you for thupper? " lisped Fanny. 
 " Never in England," he replied. 
 
 " Finest things in the world, sir, for the intellect," said Murphy. " I 
 attribute the natural intelligence of the Irish entirely to their eating 
 potatoes. 
 
 " That's a singular theowy," said Furlong ; " for it is genewally 
 attwibuted to the potatoe, that it detewiowates the wace of man. Cob- 
 bett said that any nation feeding exclusively on the potatoe, must 
 inevitably be fools in thwee genewations." 
 
 " By the powers, sir !" said Murphy, " they'd be fools if they didn't 
 eat them in Ireland ; for they've nothing else to eat. Why, sir, the 
 
 very pigs that we feed on potatoes are as superior " 
 
 " 1 beg your pawdon," smiled Furlong ; " daiwy-fed po'ke is vewy 
 superior." 
 
 " Oh, as far as the eating of it goes, I grant you !" said Murphy ; 
 " but I'm talking of the intelligence of the animal. Now, I have seen 
 them in England killing your dairy-fed pork, as you call it, and to see 
 the simplicity — the sucking simplicity, I will call it — of your milk- fed 
 pigs, — s ir, the fellow lets himself be killed with the greatest ease, — 
 whereas, look to the potatoe-fed pig. He makes a struggle for his 
 life ; — he shouts, he kicks, he plunges,— he squeals murder to the last 
 gasp, as if he were sensible of the blessings of existence and potatoes ! " 
 
HANDY ANDY. 93 
 
 This was pronounced by Murphy with a certain degree of energy 
 and oratorical style that made Furlong stare : he turned to Dick 
 Dawson, and said, in an under tone, " How vewy odd your fwiend is !" 
 
 " Very," said Dick; "but that's only on the surface: he's a pro- 
 digiously clever fellow : you'll be delighted with him when you know 
 more of him, — he's our solicitor, and as an electioneering agent his 
 talent is tremendous, as you'll find out when you come to talk with 
 him about business." 
 
 " Well, I should neve' ha' thought it," said Furlong ; " I'm glad you 
 told me." 
 
 "Are you fond of sporting, Mr. Furlong ?" said the Squire. 
 
 " Vewy," said Furlong. 
 
 " I'll give you some capital hunting." 
 
 " I pwefer fishing." 
 
 " Oh !" returned the Squire, rather contemptuously. 
 
 " Have you good twout stweams here?" asked the exquisite. 
 
 " Yeth," said Fanny, " and thuch a thamon fithshery !" 
 
 " Indeed!" 
 
 "Finest salmon in the world, sir," said Murphy. " I'll show you 
 some sport, if you like." 
 
 " I've seen some famous spo't in Scotland," said Furlong. 
 
 " Nothing to what we can show you here," said Murphy. " Why, 
 sir, I remember once at the mouth of our river here, when the salmon 
 were coming up one morning before the tide was in, there was such a 
 crowd of them, that they were obliged to wait till there was water 
 enough to cross the bar, and an English sloop that had not a pilot 
 aboard, whose captain did not know the peculiar nature of the river, 
 struck on the bank of salmon and went down." 
 
 " You don't mean to say," said Furlong, in astonishment, " that — 
 a " 
 
 " I mean to say, sir," said Murphy, with an unruffled countenance, 
 " that the river was so thick with salmon the vessel was wrecked upon 
 them. By the by, she was loaded with salt, and several of the salmon 
 were pickled in consequence, and saved by the poor people for the next 
 winter. But I'll show you such fishing!" said Murphy, — "you'll say 
 you never saw the like." 
 
 " Well, that is the wichest thing I've heard for some time," said the 
 dandy confidentially to Dick. 
 
 " I assure you," said Dick, with great gravity, " Murphy swears he 
 saw it himself. But here's the post, — let's see what's the news." 
 
 The post-bag was opened, and letters and newspapers delivered. 
 " Here's one for you, Fan," said Dick, throwing the letter across the 
 table to his sister. 
 
 " I thee by the theal ith from my couthin Thophy," said Fanny, 
 who invented the entire sentence, cousinship and all, for the sake of 
 the lisp. 
 
 " None fo' me ?" asked Furlong. 
 
 " Not one," said Dick. 
 
 " I welied on weceiving some fwom the Ca-astle." 
 
 " Oh, they are thometimes tho thleepy at the Cathtle," said Fanny. 
 
94 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 (i Weally !" said the exquisite, with the utmost simplicity. 
 
 " Fanny is very provoking, Mr. Furlong," said Mrs. Egan, who was 
 obliged to say something with a smile, to avoid the laugh which con- 
 tinued silence would have forced upon her. 
 
 " Oh, no !" said the dandy, looking tenderly at Fanny ; " only vewy 
 agweable, — fond of a little wepa'tee." 
 
 " They call me thatirical here," said Fanny, — "only fan thy ;" and 
 she cast down her eyes with an exquisite affectation of innocence. 
 
 " By the by, when does your post awwive here — the mail, I mean ?" 
 said Furlong. 
 
 "About nine in the morning," said the Squire. 
 
 "And when does it. go out ?" 
 
 " About one in the afternoon." 
 
 u And how far is the post- town fwom your house ?" 
 
 " About eight or nine miles." 
 
 " Then you can answer your letters by wetu'n of post." 
 
 " Oh dear, no !" said the Squire ; " the boy takes any letters that 
 may be for the post the 'following morning, as he goes to the town to 
 look for letters." 
 
 " But you lose a post by that," said Furlong. 
 
 " And what matter ?" said the Squire. 
 
 The official's notions of regularity were somewhat startled by the 
 Squire's answer ; so he pushed him with a few more questions. In 
 reply to one of the last, the Squire represented that the post-boy was 
 saved going twice a-day by the present arrangement. 
 
 "Ay, but you lose a post, my dear sir," said Furlong, who still clung 
 with pertinacity to the fitness of saving a post. " Don't you see that 
 you might weceive your letter at half-past ten ; well, then you'll have a 
 full hour to wite you' wanser ; that's quite enough time, I should 
 think, for you' wetu'ning an answer." 
 
 " But, my dear sir," said Murtough Murphy, "our grand object in 
 Ireland is not to answer letters." 
 
 "Oh! — ah! — hum! — indeed! — well, that's odd; — how vewy odd 
 you I wish are !" 
 
 " Sure that's what makes us such pleasant fellows," said Murtough. 
 " If we were like the rest of the world, there would be nothing remark- 
 able about us ; and who'd care for us ?" 
 
 " Well, Mr. Muffy, you say such queer things — weally." 
 
 "Ay, and I do queer things sometimes, — don't I, Squire ?•" 
 
 " There's no denying it, Murphy." 
 
 " Now, Mr. O'Gwady," said Furlong, " had we not better talk over 
 our election business ?" 
 
 "Oh! hang business to-day," said Murphy; "let's have some 
 fishing : I'll show you such a salmon fishing as you never saw in 
 your life." 
 
 "What do you say, Mr. O'Gwady?" said Furlong. 
 
 " 'Faith, I think we might as well amuse ourselves." 
 
 " Kut the election is weally of such consequence ; I should think it 
 would be a wema'kbly close contest, and we have no time to lose : 
 I should think — with submission — " 
 
HANDY ANDY. 95 
 
 " My dear sir," said Murphy, " we'll beat them hollow ; our canvass 
 has been most prosperous ; there's only one thing I a'm afraid of — '' 
 
 " What's that 1" said Furlong. 
 
 " That Egan has money ; and I'm afraid he'll bribe high." 
 
 " As for bwibewy, neve' mind that," said Furlong, with a very wise 
 nod of his head and a sagacious wink. We'll spend money too. We're 
 pwepared for that ; plenty of money will be advanced, for the gov'n- 
 mentis weally anxious that Mr. Scatte'bwain should come in." ;T 
 
 " Oh, then, all's right ! " said Murphy. " But — whisper — Mr. Fur- 
 long — be cautious how you mention money, for there are sharp fellows 
 about here, and there's no knowing how the wind of the word might 
 put the other party on their guard, and maybe, help to unseat our man 
 upon a petition." 
 
 " Oh, let me alone," said Furlong. " I know a twick too many for 
 that : let them catch me betwaying a secwet ! No, no, — ivather too 
 sharp for that." 
 
 " Oh ! don't suppose, my dear sir," said Murphy, " that I doubt your 
 caution for a moment. I see, sir, in the twinkling of an eye, a man's 
 character — always did — always could, since I was the height o' that," — 
 and Murphy stooped down and extended his hand about two feet above 
 the floor, while he looked up in the face of the man he was humbugging 
 with the most unblushing impudence, — " since I was the height o' that, 
 sir, I had a natural quickir.ess for discerning character ; and I see you're 
 a young gentleman of superior acuteness and discretion ; but at the 
 same time, don't be angry with me for just hinting to you that some of 
 these Irish chaps are d — d rogues. I beg your pardon, Mrs. O'Grady, 
 for saying d — n before a lady," — and he made a low bow to Mrs. Egan, 
 who was obliged to leave the room to hide her laughter. 
 
 "Now," said Furlong, "suppose befo'e the opening of the poll we 
 should pwopose, as it were, with a view to save time, that the bwibewy 
 oath should not be administe'd on either side." 
 
 " That's an eligant idea," said Murphy. " By the wig o' the chief 
 justice — and that's a big oath — you're a janius, Misther Furlong, and I 
 admire you. Sir, you're worth your weight in gold to us ! " 
 
 "Oh, you flatte' me ! — weally," said Furlong, with affected modesty, 
 while he ran his fingers through his Macassar-oiled ringlets. 
 
 " Well, now for a start to the river, and won't we have sport ! You 
 English-taught gentlemen have only one fault on the face of the earth, 
 — you're too fond of business, — you make yourselves slaves to pro- 
 priety, — there's no fun in you." 
 
 " I beg pawdon — there," said Furlong, " we like fun in good 
 time." 
 
 " Ay ; but there's where we beat you," said Murphy, triumphantly ; 
 " the genuine home-bred Paddy makes time for fun sooner than any- 
 thing else, — we take our own way, and live the longer." 
 
 " Ah ! you lose your time — though — excuse me ; you lose your 
 time, indeed." 
 
 " Well, ' divil may care,' as Punch said when he lost mass, ' there's 
 more churches nor one,' says he, — and that's the way with us," said 
 Murphy. " Come, Dick, get the fishing-lines ready ; heigh for the 
 
96 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 salmon fishery ! You must know, Misther Furlong, we fish for salmon 
 with line here." 
 
 " I don't see how you could fish any other way," said the dandy, 
 smiling at Murphy as if he had caught him in saying something absurd. 
 
 "Ah, you rogue," said Murphy, affecting to be hit; " you're too 
 sharp for us poor Irish fellows ; but you know the old saying, ' An 
 Irishman has leave to speak twice ;' and after all, it's no great mistake 
 I've made ; for, when I say we fish for salmon with a line, I mean we 
 don't use a rod, but a leaded line, the same as in sea-fishing." 
 
 "How vewy extwaordinary ! why, I should think that impossible." 
 
 "And why should it be impossible ? " said Murphy, with the most 
 unabashed impudence. " Have not all nations habits and customs pe- 
 culiar to themselves 1 Don't the Indians catch their fish by striking 
 them under water with a long rough stick, and a little curwhibble of a 
 bone at the end of it ? " 
 
 " Speawing them, you mean," said Furlong. 
 
 " Ay, you know the right name, of course : but isn't that quite as 
 odd, or more so, than our way here ?" 
 
 " That's vewy twue indeed ; but your sea line-fishing in a wiver, and 
 for salmon, strikes me as vewy singular." 
 
 "Well, sir, the older we grow the more we learn. You'll see what 
 fine sport it is ; but don't lose any more time ; let us be off to the river 
 at once." 
 
 " I'll make a slight change in my dress, if you please, — I'll be down 
 immediately;" and Furlong left the room. 
 
 During his absence, the Squire, Dick, and Murphy, enjoyed a hearty 
 laugh, and ran over the future proceedings of the day. 
 
 " But what do you mean by this salmon-fishing, Murphy 1 " said Dick , 
 " you know there never was a salmon in the river." 
 
 " But there will be to-day," said Murphy ; " and a magnificent 
 Gudgeon shall see him caught. What a spoon that fellow is ! we've got 
 the bribery out of him already." 
 
 " You did that well, Murphy," said the Squire. 
 
 " Be at him again when he comes down," said Dick, 
 
 " No, no," said Murphy, " let him alone ; he is so conceited about 
 his talent for business, that he will be talking of it without our pushing 
 him : just give him rope enough, and he'll hang himself ; we'll have the 
 whole plan of their campaign out before the days over." 
 
HANDY ANDY. 07 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 All men love to gain their ends ; most men are contented with the 
 shortest road to them, while others like by-paths. Some carry an 
 innate love of triumph to a pitch of epicurism, and are not content un- 
 less the triumph be achieved in a certain way, making collateral passions 
 accessories before or after the fact ; and Murphy was of the number. 
 To him, a triumph without fun was beef without mustard, lamb without 
 salad, turbot without lobster sauce. Now, to entangle Furlong in their 
 meshes was not sufficient for him ; to detain him from his friends, every 
 moment betraying something of their electioneering movements, though 
 sufficiently ludicrous in itself, was not enough for Murtough ; — he 
 would make his captive a source of ridicule as well as profit, and while 
 plenty of real amusements might have served his end, to divert the 
 stranger for the day, this mock fishing party was planned to brighten 
 with fresh beams the halo of the ridiculous which already encircled the 
 magnanimous Furlong. 
 
 " I'm still in the dark," said Dick, "about the salmon. As I said 
 before, there never was a salmon in the river." 
 
 " But, as I said before," replied Murphy, " there will be to-day ; and 
 you must help me in playing off the trick." 
 
 "But what is this trick? Confound you, you're as mysterious as a 
 chancery suit." 
 
 " I wish I was likely to last half as long," said Murphy. 
 
 "The trick!" said Dick. "Bad luck to you, tell me the trick, and 
 don't keep me waiting, like a poOr relation." 
 
 "You have two boats on the river," said Murphy. 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Well, you must get into one with our victim : and I will get into 
 the other with the salmon." 
 
 "But where's the salmon, Murphy ?" 
 
 "In the house, for I sent one over this morning, a present to Mrs. 
 Egan. You must keep away about thirty yards or so, when we get 
 afloat, that our dear friend may not perceive the trick, — and in proper 
 time I will hook my dead salmon on one of my lines, drop him over the 
 off side of the boat, pass him round to the gunwale within view of our 
 intelligent castle customer, make a great outcry, swear I have a nobie 
 bite, haul up my fish with an enormous splash, and after affecting to' 
 kill him in the boat, hold up my salmon in triumph." 
 ,, "It's a capital notion, Murphy, if he doesn't smoke the trick." 
 
 " He'll smoke the salmon sooner. Never mind, if I don't hoax him : 
 I'll bet you what you like he's done." 
 
 H 
 
98 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 " I hear him coming down stairs," said the squire. 
 
 " Then send off the salmon in a basket by one of the boys, Dick," 
 said Murphy ; " and you, Squire, may go about your canvass, and leave 
 us in care of the enemy." 
 
 All was done as Murphy proposed, and in something less tban an 
 hour, Furlong and Dick in one boat, and Murphy and his attendant 
 gossoon in another, were afloat on the river, to initiate the Dublin citizen 
 into the mysteries of this new mode of salmon fishing. 
 
 The sport at first was slack, and no wonder; and Furlong began to 
 grow tired, when Murphy hooked on his salmon, and gently brought it 
 round under the water within range of his victim's observation. 
 
 " This is wather dull work," said Furlong. 
 
 "Wait awhile, my dear sir; they are never lively in biting so early 
 as this — they're not set about feeding in earnest yet. Hilloa ! by the 
 Hokey I have him !" shouted Murphy. Furlong looked on with great 
 anxiety as Murphy made a well-feigned struggle with a heavy fish. 
 
 " By this and that he's a whopper !" cried Murphy in ecstasy. " He's 
 kicking like a two-year-old. I have him, though, as fast as the rock o' 
 Dunamase. Come up, you thief!" cried he, with an exulting shout, as 
 he pulled up the salmon with all the splash he could produce; and sud- 
 denly whipping the fish over the side into the boat, he began flopping 
 it about as if it were plunging in the death struggle. As soon as he 
 had affected to kill it, he held it up in triumph before the castle con- 
 juror, who was quite taken in by the feint, and protested his surprise 
 loudly. 
 
 " Oh ! that's nothing to what we'll do yet. If the day should become 
 a little more overcast, we'd have a splendid sport, sir." 
 
 " Well, I could not have believed it, if I hadn't seen it," said Furlong. 
 
 " Oh ! you'll see more than that, my boy, before we've done with 
 them." 
 
 " But I haven't got even a bite yet." 
 
 "Nor I either," said Dick : "you're not worse off than I am." 
 
 " But how extwaordinawy it is that I have not seen a fish wise since 
 I have been on the wiver." 
 
 " That's because they see us watching them," said Dick. " The 
 d — 1 such cunning brutes I ever met with as the fish in this river : now, 
 if you were at a distance from the bank you'd see them jumping as lively 
 as grasshoppers. Whisht ! I think I had a nibble." 
 
 " You don't seem to have good sport there," shouted Murphy. 
 
 " Vewypoo' indeed," said Furlong, dolefully. 
 
 "Play your line a little," said Murphy; "keep the bait lively — 
 you're not up to the way of fascinating them yet." 
 
 " Why no ; it's rather noo to me." 
 
 "Faith!" said Murphy to himself, "it's new to all of us. It's a 
 bran new invention in the fishing line. Billy," said he to the gossoon, 
 who was in the boat with him, " we must catch a salmon again to divart 
 that strange gentleman ; hook him on, my buck." 
 
 " Yis, sir," said Billy with delighted eagerness ; for the boy entered 
 into the fun of the thing heart and soul, and as he hooked on the salmon 
 for a second haul, he interlarded his labours with such ejaculations as, 
 
HANDY ANDY. 93 
 
 cs Oh, Misther Murphy, sir, but you're the funny jintleman. Oh, 
 Misther Murphy, sir, how soft the stranger is, sir. The salmon's ready 
 for ketchin' now, sir. Will you ketch hirn yet, sir ?" 
 " Coax him round, Billy," said Murphy. 
 
 The young imp executed the manoeuvre with adroitness ; and Murphy 
 was preparing for another haul, as Furlong's weariness began to mani- 
 fest itself. 
 
 " Do you intend wemaining here all day ? — do you know, I think 
 I've no chance of any spo't." 
 
 " Oh, wait till you hook one fish, at all events," said Murphy ; "just 
 have it to say you killed a salmon in the new style. The day is pro- 
 mising better. I'm sure we'll have sport yet. Hilloa ! I've another !" 
 and Murphy began hauling in the salmon. "Billy, you rascal, get 
 ready : watch him — that's it — mind him now !" Billy put out his gaff 
 to seize the prize, and, making a grand swoop, affected to miss 
 the fish. 
 
 " Gaff him, you thief, gaff him !" shouted Murphy ; " gaff him, or 
 he'll be off." 
 
 " Oh, he's so lively, sir !" roared Billy; " he's a rogue, sir — he won't 
 let me put the gaff undher him, sir — ow, he slipp'd away agin." 
 " Make haste, Billy, or I can't hold him." 
 
 " Oh, the thief!" said Billy ; " one would think he was cotcht before, 
 he's so up to it. Ha! — hurroo! — I have him now, sir!" 
 
 Billy made all the splash he could in the water as Murphy lifted the 
 fish to the surface and swung him into tbe boat. Again there was the 
 flopping and the riot, and Billy screeching, "Kill him, sir! — kill him, 
 sir! or he'll be off out o' my hands I" In proper time the fish was 
 killed, and shown up in triumph, and the imposture completed. 
 
 And now Furlong began to experience that peculiar longing for catch- 
 ing a fish, which always possesses men who see fish taken by others ; and 
 the desire to have a salmon of his own killing induced him to remain on 
 the river. In the long intervals of idleness which occurred between the 
 occasional hooking up of the salmon, which Murphy did every now and 
 then, Furlong would be talking about business to Dick Dawson, so that 
 they had not been very long on the water until Dick became enlightened 
 on some more very important points connected with the election. 
 Murphy now pushed his boat towards the shore. 
 
 " You're not going yet ?" said the anxious fisherman ; — " do wait till 
 I catch a fish." 
 
 " Certainly," said Murphy ; " I'm only going to put Billy ashore and 
 send home what we've already caught. Mrs. O'Grady is passionately 
 fond of salmon." 
 
 Billy was landed, and a large basket in which the salmon had been 
 brought down to the boat was landed also — empty ; and Murphy, lifting 
 the basket as if it contained a considerable weight, placed it on Billy's 
 head, and the sly young rascal bent beneath it, as if all the fish Murphy 
 had pretended to take were really in it ; and he went on his homeward 
 way, with a tottering step, as if the load were too much for him. 
 
 "That boy," said Furlong, "will never be able to cawwy all those 
 fish to the house." ; ; 
 
100 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 " Oh, they won't be too much for him," said Dick. " Curse the fish ! 
 I wish they'd bite. That thief, Murphy, has had all the sport ; but he's 
 the best fisherman in the county, I'll own that." 
 
 The two boats all this time had been drifting down the river, and on 
 opening a new reach of the stream, a somewhat extraordinary scene of 
 fishing presented itself. It was not like Murphy's fishing, the result of 
 a fertile invention, but the consequence of the evil destiny which presided 
 over all the proceedings of Handy Andy. 
 
 The fishing party in the boats beheld another fishing party on shore, 
 with this difference in the nature of what they sought to catch, that, 
 while they in the boats were looking for salmon, those on the shore were 
 seeking for a post-chaise, and as about a third part of a vehicle so 
 called was apparent above the water, Furlong exclaimed with extreme 
 surprise, 
 
 " Well ! if it ain't a post-chaise !" 
 
 " Oh! that's nothing extraordinary," said Dick ; — " common enough 
 here." 
 
 " How do you mean ?" 
 
 " We've a custom here of running steeple-chases in post-chaises." 
 
 "Oh, thank you," said Furlong; "come, that's too good." 
 
 "You don't believe it, I see," said Dick; "but you did not believe 
 the salmon fishing till you saw it." 
 
 "Oh, come now! How the deuce could you leap a ditch in a post- 
 chaise?" 
 
 " I never said we leaped ditches ; I only said we rode steeple-chases. 
 The system is this : you go for a given point, taking high-road, by-road, 
 plain, or lane, as the case may be, making the best of your way how you 
 can. Now, our horses in this country are celebrated for being good 
 swimmers, so it's a favourite plan to shirk a bridge sometimes by swim- 
 ming a river." 
 
 " But no post-chaise will float," said Furlong, regularly arguing 
 against Dick's mendacious absurdity. 
 
 "Oh! we're prepared for that here. The chaises are made light, 
 have cork bottoms, and all the solid work is made hollow ; the doors are 
 made water-tight, and if the stream runs strong the passenger jumps 
 out and swims." 
 
 " But that's not fair," said Furlong ; "it alters the weight." 
 
 "Oh! it's allowed on both sides," said Dick, "so it's all the same. 
 It's as good for the goose as the gander." 
 
 " I wather imagine it is much fitter for geese and ganders than human 
 beings. I know I should wather be a goose on the occasion." 
 
 All this time they were nearing the party on shore, and as the post- 
 chaise became more developed, so did the personages on the bank of 
 the river ; and amongst these Dick Dawson saw Handy Andy in the 
 custody of two men, and Squire O'Grady shaking his fist in his face 
 and storming at him. How all this party came there, it is necessary to 
 explain. When Handy Andy had deposited Furlong at Merryvale, he 
 drove back to pick up the fallen postilion and his brother on the road ; 
 but before he reached them he had to pass a public, house — I say, had 
 to pass — but he didn't. Andy stopped, as every honourable postilion is 
 
HANDY ANDY. 101 
 
 bound to do, to drink the health of the gentleman who gives him the 
 last half-crown; and he was so intent on " doing that same," as they 
 say in Ireland, that Andy's driving became very equivocal afterwards. 
 In short, he drove the post-chaise into the river ; the horses got 
 disentangled by kicking the traces, which were very willing to break 
 into pieces ; and Andy, by sticking to the neck of the horse he rode, 
 got out of the water. The horses got home without the post-chaise, 
 and the other post-chaise and pair got home without a postilion, so that 
 Owny Doyle was roused from his bed by the neighing of the horses at 
 the gate of the inn. Great was his surprise at the event, as, half clad 
 and a candle in his hand, he saw two pair of horses, one chaise, and no 
 driver, at his door. The next morning the plot thickened ; Squire 
 O'Grady came to know if a gentleman had arrived at the town on 
 his way to Neck-or-Nothing Hall. The answer was in the affirma- 
 tive. Then " where was he ?" became a question. Then the report 
 arrived of the post-chaise being upset in the river. Then came stories 
 of postilions falling off', of postilions being changed, of Handy Andy 
 being employed to take the gentleman to the place ; and out of these 
 materials the story became current that " an English gentleman was 
 dhrownded in the river in a post-chaise." O'Grady set off directly 
 with a party to have the river dragged, and near the spot, encountering 
 Handy Andy, he ordered him to be seized, and accused him of mur- 
 dering his friend. „.„. 
 
 It was in this state of things that the boats approached the party on 
 the land, and the moment Dick Dawson saw Handy Andy, he put out 
 his oars, and pulled away as hard as he could. At the moment he did 
 so, Andy caught sight of him, and pointing out Furlong and Dick 
 to O'Grady, he shouted, " There he is ! — there he is ! — I never mur- 
 dhered him ! There he is ! — stop him ! — Misther Dick, stop, for the 
 love o' God !" 
 
 " What is all this about?" said Furlong in great amazement. 
 
 " Oh, he's a process-server," said Dick; " the people are going to 
 drown him, maybe." 
 
 " To dwown him !" said Furlong in horror. 
 
 " If he has luck," said Dick, " they'll only give him a good ducking; 
 but we had better have nothing to do with it, I would not like you to 
 be engaged in one of these popular riots." 
 
 " I shouldn't wellish it, myself," said Furlong. 
 
 " Pull away, Dick !" said Murphy ; " let them kill the blackguard, if 
 they like." 
 
 " But will they kill him weally V* inquired Furlong, somewhat 
 horrified. 
 
 " 'Faith, it's just as the whim takes them," said Murphy ; " but as 
 we wish to be popular on the hustings, we must let them kill as many 
 as they please." 
 
 Andy still shouted loud enough to be heard. " Misther Dick, they're 
 goin' to murdher me !" 
 
 " Poor wretch !" said Furlong, with a very uneasy shudder. 
 
 " Maybe you'd think it right for us to land and rescue him," said 
 Murphy, affecting to put about the boat. 
 
102 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 " Oh, by no means," said Furlong. " You're better acquainted with 
 the customs of the countwy than T am." 
 
 " Then we'll row back to dinner as fast as we can," said Murphy. 
 " Pull away, my hearties !" and, as he bent to his oars, he began bel- 
 lowing the Canadian Boat-Song, to drown Andy's roars ; and when he 
 howled, 
 
 " Our voices keep tune — " 
 
 there never was a more practical burlesque upon the words ; but as 
 he added — 
 
 , Our oars keep time," 
 
 he seemed to have such a pleasure in pulling, and looked so lively and 
 florid, that Furlong, chilled by his inactivity on the water, and whose 
 subsequent horror at the thought of seeing a real, regular Irish drown- 
 ing of a process-server before his face, had produced a shivering fit, 
 requested Murtough to let him have an oar, to restore circulation by 
 exercise. Murtough complied ; but the novice had not pulled many 
 strokes, before his awkward handling of the oar produced that peculiar 
 effect called " catching a crab," and a smart blow upon his chest sent 
 him heels over head under the thwarts of the boat. 
 
 " Wha-wha-a-t's that ?" gasped Furlong, as he scrambled up again. 
 
 " You only caught a crab," said Murtough. 
 
 " Good heaven !" said Furlong, " you don't mean to say there are 
 crabs as well as salmon in the river." 
 
 " Just as many crabs as salmon," said Murtough ; " pull away, my 
 hearty " 
 
 * Row, brothers, row — the stream runs fast — 
 The rapids are near, and the daylight's past I" 
 
HANDY ANDY. 103 
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 
 The boats doubled round an angle in tbe river, and Andy was left in 
 the hands of Squire O'Grady, still threatening vengeance ; but Andy, 
 as long as the boats remained in sight, heard nothing but his own sweet 
 voice, shouting at the top of its pitch, " They're going to murdher me ! 
 — Misther Dick, Misther Dick, come back for the love o' God ! " 
 
 " What are you roaring like a bull for ?" said the Squire. 
 
 " Why wouldn't I roar, sir ? A bull would roar if he had as much 
 rayson." 
 
 " A bull has more reason than ever you had, you calf," said the 
 Squire. 
 
 " Sure there he is, and can explain it all to you," said Andy, point- 
 ing after the boats. 
 
 " Who is there ?" asked the Squire. 
 
 " Misther Dick, and the jintleman himself that I dlnuv there." 
 
 " Drove where ?" 
 
 " To the Squire's." 
 
 " What Squire's ?" 
 
 " Squire Egan's, to be sure." 
 
 " Hold your tongue, you rascal ; you're either drunk still, or telling 
 lies. The gentleman I mean wouldn't go to Mister Egan's : he was 
 coming to me." 
 
 " That's the jintleman I dhruv — that's all I know. He was in the 
 shay, and was nigh shootin' me y and Micky Doolin stopped on the 
 i'oad, when his brother was nigh killed, and towld me to get up, for he 
 wouldn't go no farther, when the jintleman objected — " 
 
 " What did the gentleman object to ?" 
 
 " He objected to Pether goin' into the shay." 
 
 " Who is Peter ?" 
 
 " Pether Doolin, to be sure." 
 
 " And what brought Peter Doolin there ?" 
 
 " He fell off the horse's—" 
 
 " Wasn't it Mick Doolin you said was driving, but a moment ago ?" 
 
 " Ay, sir ; but that was th'other shay." 
 
 " What other chaise, you vagabond ?" 
 
 " Th'other shay, your honour, that I never seen at all, good or bad- 
 only Pether." 
 
 " What diabolical confusion you are making of the story, to be sure ! 
 — there's no use in talking to you here, I see. Bring him after me," 
 said the Squire to some of his people standing by. " I must keeD him 
 
104 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 in custody till something more satisfactory is made out about the 
 matter." 
 
 " Sure it's not makin' a presner of me you'd be ? ' said Andy. 
 
 " You shall be kept in confinement, you scoundrel, till something is 
 heard of this strange gentleman. I'm afraid he's drowned." 
 
 " D — 1 a dhrown'd. I dhruv him to Squire Egan's, I'll take my 
 book oath." 
 
 " That's downright nonsense, sir. He would as soon go into Squire 
 Egan's house as go to Fiddler's Green." 
 
 " Faith, then, there's worse places than Fiddler's Green," said Andy, 
 " as some people may find out one o' these days." 
 
 " I think, boys," said O'Grady to the surrounding countrymen, " we 
 must drag the river." 
 
 " Dhrag the river, if you plase, said Andy ;" " but, for the tendher 
 mercy o' heaven, don't dhrag me to jail ! By all the crosses in a yard 
 o' check, I dhruv the jintleman to Squire Egan's ! — and there he was 
 in that boat I showed you five minutes agone." 
 
 " Bring him after me," said O'Grady. " The fellow is drunk still, 
 or forgets all about it ; I must examine him again. Take him over to 
 the hall, and lock him up in the justice-room till I go home." 
 
 " Arrah, sure, your honour — " said Andy, commencing an appeal. 
 
 " If you say another word, you scoundrel," said the Squire, shaking 
 his whip at him, " I'll commit you to jail this minute. Keep a sharp 
 eye after him, Molloy," were the last words of the Squire to a stout- 
 built peasant who took Andy in charge as the Squire mounted his horse 
 and rode away, 
 
 Andy was marched off to Neck-or-Nothing Hall ; and, in compliance 
 with the Squire's orders, locked up in the justice -room. This was an 
 apartment where the Squire in his magisterial capacity dispensed what 
 he called justice, and what he possibly meant to be such ; but poor 
 Justice, coming out of Squire O'Grady's hands, was something like the 
 little woman in the song, who, having her petticoats cut short while she 
 was asleep, exclaimed on her waking, 
 
 " As sure as I'm a little woman, this is none of I." 
 
 Only that Justice in the present instance doubted her identity, not from 
 her nakedness, but from the peculiar dressing Squire O'Grady bestowed 
 upon her. She was so muffled up in O'Gradyism, that her own mother, 
 who by the same token was Themis, wouldn't know her. Indeed, if I 
 remember, Justice is worse off 'than mortals respecting her parentage ; 
 for while there are many people who do not know who were their 
 fathers, poets are uncertain who was Justice's mother : — some say 
 Aurora, some say Themis. Now, if I might indulge at this moment in 
 a bit of reverie, it would not be unreasonable to suppose that it is the 
 classic disposition of Ireland, which is known to be a very ancient 
 country, that tends to make the operations of Justice assimilate with the 
 uncertainty of her birth ; for her dispensations there are as distinct as 
 if they were the offspring of two different influences. One man's jus- 
 tice is not another man's justice ; — which I suppose must arise from the 
 difference of opinion as to who or what Justice is. Perhaps the rich 
 
HANDY ANDY. 103 
 
 people, who incline to power, may venerate Justice more as the child of 
 Jupiter and Themis ; while the unruly worship her as the daughter of 
 Titan and Aurora ; for undoubtedly the offspring of Aurora must be 
 most welcome to " Peep-'o-day boys." 
 
 Well, — not to indulge further in reverie, — Andy, I say, was locked 
 up in the justice-room ; and as I have been making all these observa- 
 tions about Justice, a few words will not be thrown away about the 
 room which she was supposed to inhabit. Then I must say Squire 
 O'Grady did not use her well. The room was a cold, comfortless apart- 
 ment, with a plastered wall and an earthen floor, save at one end, where 
 a raised platform of boards sustained a desk and one high office-chair. 
 No other seat was in the room, nor was there any lateral window, the 
 room being lighted from the top, so that Justice could be no way in- 
 terested with the country outside — she could only contemplate her 
 native heaven through the sky-light. Behind the desk were placed a 
 rude shelf, where some "modern instances," and old ones too, were 
 lying covered with dust — and a gunrack, where some carbines with 
 fixed bayonets were paraded in show of authority ; so that, to an ima- 
 ginative mind, the aspect of the books and the fire-arms gave the 
 notion of Justice on the shelf, and Law on the rack. 
 
 But Andy thought not of those things ; he had not the imagination 
 which sometimes gives a prisoner a passing pleasure in catching a whim- 
 sical conceit from his situation, and, in the midst of his anxiety, anticipa- 
 ting the satisfaction he shall have in saying a good thing, even at the 
 expense of his own suffering, Andy only knew that he was locked up 
 in the justice-room for something he never did. He had only sense 
 enough to feel that he was wronged, without the spirit to wish himself 
 righted ; and he sauntered up and down the cold, miserable room, 
 anxiously awaiting the arrival of " his honour, Squire O'Grady," to 
 know what would be done with him, and wondering if they could hang 
 him for upsetting a post-chaise in which a gentleman had been riding, 
 rather than brooding future means of redress for his false imprison- 
 ment. 
 
 There was no window to look out of — he had not the comfort of 
 seeing a passing fellow-creature ; for the sight of one's kind is a com- 
 fort. He could not even see the green earth and the freshness of 
 nature, which, though all unconsciously, has still a soothing influence on 
 the most uncultivated mind ; he had nothing but the walls to look at, 
 which were blank, save here and there that a burnt stick, in the 
 hand of one of the young O'Grady 's, emulated the art of a Sandwich 
 islander, and sketched faces as grotesque as any pagan could desire for 
 his idol ; or figures, after the old well-established school-boy manner, 
 which in the present day is called Persian painting, " warranted to be 
 taught in three lessons." Now, this bespeaks degeneracy in the arts ; 
 for in the time we write of, boys and girls acquired the art without any 
 lessons at all, and abundant proofs of this intuitive talent existed on the 
 aforesaid walls. Napoleon and Wellington were fighting a duel, while 
 Nelson stood by to see fair play, he having nothing better to do, as the 
 battle of Trafalgar, represented in the distance, could, of course, go on 
 without him. The anachronism of jumbling Bonaparte, Wellington; 
 
105 HANDY ANDY, 
 
 and Nelson together, was a trifle amongst the O'Gradys, as they were 
 nearly as great proficients in history, ancient and modern, as in the 
 fine arts. Amidst these efforts of genius appeared many an old rhyme, 
 scratched with rusty nails by rustier policemen, while lounging in the 
 justice-room during the legal decisions of the great O'Grady ; and all 
 these were gone over again and again by Andy, till they were worn out, 
 all but one, — a rough representation of a man hanging. 
 
 This possessed a sort of fascination for poor Andy ; for at last, relin- 
 quishing all others, he stood riveted before it, and muttered to himself, 
 " I wondher can they hang me — sure it's no murdher I done — but 
 who knows what witnesses they might get ? and these times they sware 
 mighty hard ; and Squire O'Grady has such a pack o' blackguards 
 about him, sure he could get any thing swore he liked. Oh! wirra! 
 wirra ! what'll I do at all, at all — faix ! I wouldn't like to be hanged — 
 oh ! look at him there — just the last kick in him — and a disgrace to my 
 poor mother into the bargain. Augh ! — but it's a dirty death to die 
 — to be hung up, like a dog over a gate, or an ould hat on a peg, just 
 that-a-way ;" — and he extended his arm as he spoke, suspending his 
 caubeen, while he looked with disgust at the effigy. " But sure they 
 cant hang me — though now I remember, Squire Egan towld me long 
 ago I'd be hanged some day or other. — I wondher does my mother know 
 I'm tuk away — and Oonah too : the craythur would be sorry for me.— 
 Maybe if the mother spoke to Squire Egan, his honour would say a 
 good word for me. Though that would'nt do ; for him and Squire 
 O'Grady's bitther inimies now, though they wor once good frinds. — 
 Och hone ! — sure that's the way o' the world ; and a cruel hard world 
 it is — so it is. Sure 'twould be well to be out of it a'most, and in a 
 betther world. I hope there's no po'-chaises in heaven !" 
 
 The soliloquy of poor Andy was interrupted by a low measured 
 sound of thumping, which his accustomed ear at once distinguished to 
 be the result of churning ; the room in which he was confined being one 
 of a range of offices stretching backward from the principal building, 
 and next door to the dairy. Andy had grown tired by this time of his 
 repeated contemplation of the rhymes and the sketches, his own thoughts 
 thereon, and his long confinement ; and now the monotonous sound of 
 the churn-dash falling on his ear, acted as a sort of husho,* and the 
 worried and wearied Andy at last lay down on the platform, and fell 
 asleep to the bumping lullaby. 
 
 * The nurses' song for setting a child to sleep, which they pronounce softly, 
 " huzzho." 
 
t^Szvuow: -foteJs&iz&J sfccj &e&&. 
 
 F. Lover, jUdme Chambers, Paxerc " 
 
HANDY ANDY, 107 
 
 CHAPTER XII r. 
 
 The sportsmen having returned from their fishing excursion to dinner, 
 were seated round the hospitable board of Squire Egan ; Murphy and 
 Dick in high glee, at still successfully hoodwinking Furlong, and carry- 
 ing on their mystification with infinite frolic. 
 
 The soup had been removed, and they were in the act of enjoying the 
 salmon, which had already given so much enjoyment, when a loud 
 knocking at the door announced the arrival of some fresh guest. 
 
 " Did you ask any one to dinner, my dear?" inquired Mrs. Egan of 
 her good-humoured lord, who was the very man to invite any friend he 
 met in the course of the day, and forget it after. 
 
 " No, my dear," answered the Squire. " Did you, Dick V said he. 
 
 Dick replied in the negative, and said he had better go and see who 
 it 'was ; for looks of alarm had been exchanged between him, the Squire, 
 and Murphy, lest any stranger should enter the room without being 
 apprised of the hoax going forward ; and Dawson had just reached the 
 door, on his cautionary mission, when it was suddenly thrown wide 
 open, and in walked, with a rapid step and bustling air, an active little 
 gentleman dressed in black, who was at Mrs. Egan's side in a moment, 
 exclaiming with a very audible voice and much empressement of manner, 
 
 " My dear Mrs. Egan, how do you do ? I'm delighted to see you. 
 Took a friend's privilege, you see, and have come unbidden to claim the 
 hospitality of your table. The fact is, I was making a sick visit to this 
 side of my parish ; and, finding it impossible to get home in time to my 
 own dinner, I had no scruple in laying yours under contribution." 
 
 Now this was the Protestant clergyman of the parish, whose political 
 views were in opposition to those of Mr. Egan ; but the good hearts of 
 both men prevented political feeling from interfering, as in Ireland it 
 too often does, with the social intercourse of life. Still, however, even 
 if Dick Dawson had got out of the room in time, this was not the man 
 to assist them in covering their hoax on Furlong, and the scene became 
 excessively ludicrous the moment the reverend gentleman made his 
 appearance. Dick, the Squire, and Murphy, opened their eyes at each 
 other, while Mrs. Egan grew as red as scarlet when Furlong stared at 
 her in astonishment as the new-comer mentioned her name, — she stam- 
 mered out welcome as well as she could, and called for a chair for Mr. 
 Bermingham, with all sorts of kind inquiries for Mrs, Bermingham and 
 the little Berminghams, — for the Bermingham manufactory in that line 
 was extensive. 
 
 While the reverend doctor was taking his seat, spreading his napkin, 
 and addressing a word to each round the table, Furlong turned to Fanny 
 
108 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 Dawson, beside whom he was sitting, (and who, by the by, could not 
 resist a fit of laughter on the occasion,) and said, with a bewildered look, 
 
 " Did he not addwess Madame as Mistwess Egan ?" 
 
 tl Yeth," said Fanny, with admirable readiness ; " but whithper." 
 And as Furlong inclined his head towards her, she whispered in his ear 
 — " You muthn't mind him — he's mad, poor man ! — that is, a little 
 inthane, — and thinks every lady is Mrs. Egan. — An unhappy patshion, 
 poor fellow ! — but quite harmleth." 
 
 Furlong uttered a very prolonged " Oh !" at Fanny's answer to his 
 inquiry, and looked sharply round the table ; for there was an indefina- 
 ble something in the conduct of every one at the moment of Mr. Ber- 
 mingham's entrance that attracted his attention ; and the name " Egan," 
 and everybody's fidgityness, (which is the only word I can apply,) 
 roused his suspicion. Fanny's answer only half satisfied him ; and 
 looking at Mrs. Egan, who could not conquer her confusion, he re- 
 marked, — How vewy wed Mistress O'Gwady gwew !" 
 
 " Oh, tshe can't help blutching, poor thoul ! when he thays ' Egan' 
 to her, and thinks her his furth love." 
 
 " How vewy widiculous, to be sure," said Furlong. 
 
 " Haven't you innothent mad people thumtimes in England?" said 
 Fanny. 
 
 " Oh, vewy," said Furlong; " but this appea's to me so wema'kably 
 stwange an abbewation." 
 
 " Oh," returned Fanny with quickness, " T thuppose people go mad 
 on their ruling patshion, and the ruling patshion of the Irish, you know, 
 is love." 
 
 The conversation all this time was going on in other quarters, and 
 Furlong heard Mr. Bermingham talking of his having preached last 
 Sunday in his new church. 
 
 " Suwely," said he to Fanny, " they would not pe'mit an insane 
 cle'gyraan to pweach ?" 
 
 " Oh," said Fanny, almost suffocating with laughter, " he only thinkth 
 he's a clergyman." 
 
 " How vewy dwoll you are !" said Furlong. 
 
 " Now you're only quithing me," said Fanny, looking with affected 
 innocence in the face of the unfortunate young gentleman she had been 
 quizzing most unmercifully the whole day. 
 
 " Oh, Miste' O'Gwady," said Furlong, " we saw them going to 
 dwown a man to-day." 
 
 " Indeed !" said the Squire, reddening, as he saw Mr. Bermingham 
 stare at his being called O'Grady ; so, to cover the blot, and stop Fur- 
 long, he asked him to take wine. 
 
 " Do they often dwown people here ?" continued Furlong, after he 
 had bowed. 
 
 " Not that I know of," said the Squire. 
 
 " But are not the lowe' o'ders wather given to what Lo'd Bacon 
 calls—" 
 
 '* Who cares about Lord Bacon V said Murphy. 
 
 " My dear sir, you supwise me !" said Furlong, in utter amazement 
 " Lo'd Bacon's sayings — " 
 
HANDY ANDY. 109 
 
 " By my sow]," said Murphy, " both himself and his sayings are very 
 rusty by this time." 
 
 " Oh, I see, Miste' MufFy. — You neve' will be sewious." 
 
 "God forbid!" said Murphy, — "at dinner, at least, — or after. 
 Seriousness is only a morning amusement; — it makes a very poor figure 
 in the evening." 
 
 " By the by," said Mr. Bermingham, " talking of drowning, I heard a 
 very odd story to-day from O'Grady. You and he, I believe," said 
 the clergyman, addressing Egan, " are not on as good terms as you 
 were." 
 
 At this speech Furlong did rather open his eyes, the Squire hummed 
 and hawed, Murphy coughed, Mrs. Egan looked into her plate, and 
 Dick, making a desperate dash to the rescue, asked Furlong which he 
 preferred, a single or a double-barrelled gun. 
 
 Mr. Bermingham, perceiving the sensation his question created, 
 thought he had touched upon forbidden ground, and therefore did not 
 repeat his question, and Fanny whispered Furlong that one of the 
 stranger's mad peculiarities was mistaking one person for another; but 
 all this did not satisfy Furlong, whose misgivings as to the real name of 
 his host were growing stronger every moment. At last Mr. Berming- 
 ham, without alluding to the broken friendship between Egan and 
 O'Grady, returned to the " odd story " he had heard that morning 
 about drowning. 
 
 " 'Tis a very strange affair," said he, " and our side of the country 
 is all alive about it. A gentleman who was expected from Dublin last 
 night at Neck-or-Nothing Hall, arrived, as it is ascertained, at the 
 village, and thence took a post-chaise, since which time he has not been 
 heard of; and as a post-chaise was discovered this morning sunk in the 
 river close by Ballysloughgutthery bridge, it is suspected the gentleman 
 has been drowned either by accident or design. The postilion is in con- 
 finement on suspicion, and O'Grady has written to the Castle about it 
 to-day, for the gentleman was a government officer." 
 
 " Why, sir," said Furlong, " that must be me ! " 
 
 " You, sir !" said Mr. Bermingham, whose turn it was to be surprised 
 now. 
 
 " Yes, sir," said Furlong, " I took a post-chaise at the village last 
 night, — and I'm an office' of the gove'ment." 
 
 " But you're not drowned, sir, — and he was," said Bermingham. 
 
 " To be su'e Fm not dwowned ; but I'm the pe'son." 
 
 " Quite impossible, sir," said Mr. Bermingham. " You can't be the 
 person." 
 
 " Why, sir, do you expect to pe'swade me out of my own identity? 
 
 " Oh," said Murphy, " there wiil be no occasion to prove identity 
 till the body is found, and the coroner's inquest sits; — that's the law, 
 sir, — at least, in Ireland." 
 
 Furlong's bewildered look at the unblushing impudence of Murphy 
 was worth anything. While he was dumb from astonishment, Mr. 
 Bermingham, with marked politeness, said, 
 
 " Allow me, sir, for a moment to explain to you. You see, it could 
 not be you, for the gentleman was g)ing to Mr. O'Gra^y's." 
 
110 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 " Well, sir," said Furlong, " and here I am." 
 
 The wide stare of the two men as they looked at each other was 
 killing; and while Furlong's face was turned towards Mr. Bermingham, 
 Fanny caught the clergyman's eye, tapped her forehead with the fore- 
 finger of her right hand, shook her head, and turned up her eyes with 
 an expression of pity, to indicate that Furlong was not quite right in 
 his mind. 
 
 " Oh, I beg pardon, sir," said Mr. Bermingham. " I see it's a mis- 
 take of mine." 
 
 " There certainly is a vewy gweat mistake somewhere," said Fur- 
 long, who was now bent on a very direct question. " Pway, Miste' 
 O'Gwady," said he, addressing Egan, — " that is, if you are Miste' 
 O'Gwady, — will you tell me, are you Miste' O'Gwady?" 
 
 " Sir," said the Squire, " you have chosen to call me O'Grady ever 
 since you came here, — but my name is Egan." 
 
 " What ! — the member for the county ?" cried Furlong, horrified. 
 
 " Yes," said the Squire, laughing. " do you want a frank ?" 
 
 "'Twill save your friends postage," said Dick, "when you write to 
 them to say you're safe." 
 
 " Miste' Wegan," said Furlong, with an attempt at offended dignity, 
 " I conside' myself vewy ill used." 
 
 " You're the first man I ever heard of being ill used in Merryvale 
 House," said Murphy. 
 
 " Sir, it is a gvvievous w'ong !" 
 
 " What is all this about ?" asked Mr. Bermingham. 
 
 " My dear friend," said the Squire, laughing, — though, indeed, that 
 was not peculiar to him, for every one round the table, save the victim, 
 was doing the same thing, (as for Fanny, she shouted,) — " My dear 
 friend, this gentleman came to my house last night, and / took 
 him for a friend of Moriarty's, whom [ have been expecting for some 
 days. He thought, it appears, this was Neck-or-Nothing Hall, and 
 thus a mutual mistake has arisen. All I can say is, that you are most 
 welcome, Mr. Furlong, to the hospitality of this house as long as you 
 please." 
 
 " But, sir, you should not have allowed me to wemain in you' house," 
 said Furlong. 
 
 " That's a doctrine," said the Squire, " in which you will find it diffi- 
 cult to make an Irish host coincide." 
 
 " But you must have known, sir, that it was not my intention to 
 come to your house." 
 
 " How could I know that, sir ?" said the Squire jocularly. 
 
 " Why, Miste' Wegan — you know — that is — in fact — d — n it, sir," 
 said Furlong at last, losing his temper, " you know I told you all about 
 our electioneering tactics." 
 
 A loud laugh was all the response Furlong received to this outbreak. 
 
 " Well, sir," repeated he, " I pwotest it is extremely unfair ! " 
 
 " You know, my dear sir," said Dick, " we Irish are such poor igno- 
 rant creatures, according to your own account, that we can make no use 
 of the knowledge with which you have so generously supplied us." 
 
 " You know," said the Squire, " we have no real finesse." 
 
HANDY ANDY. 1 [ 1 
 
 " Sir," said Furlong, growing sulky, " there is a certain finesse that 
 is fair, and another that is unfair — and I pwotest against — " 
 
 " Pooh ! pooh !" said Murphy. " Never mind trifles. Just wait 
 till to-morrow, and I'll show you even better salmon-fishing than you 
 had to-day." 
 
 " Sir, no considewation would make me wemain anothe' wower in 
 this house." 
 
 Murphy, screwing his lips together, puffed out something between a 
 whistle and the blowing out of a candle, and ventured to suggest to Fur- 
 long he had better wait even a couple of hours, till he had got his 
 allowance of claret. " Remember the adage, sir — ' In vino Veritas,' and 
 we'll tell you all our electioneering secrets after we've had enough wine." 
 
 " As soon, Miste' Wegan,'' said Furlong, quite chapfallen, " as you 
 can tell me how I can get to the house to which I intended to go, I will 
 be weady to bid you good evening." 
 
 " If you are determined, Mr. Furlong, to remain here no longer, 
 I shall not press my hospitality upon you : whenever you decide on 
 going, my carriage shall be at your service." 
 
 "The soone' the bette', sir," said Furlong, retreating still further into 
 a cold and sulky manner. 
 
 The Squire made no further attempt to conciliate him ; he merely 
 said, " Dick, ring the bell. Pass the claret, Murphy." 
 
 The bell w T as rung — the claret passed — a servant entered, and orders 
 were given by the Squire that the carriage should be at the door as 
 soon as possible. In the interim, Dick Dawson, the Squire, and Murphy, 
 laughed as if nothing had happened, and Mrs. Egan conversed in an 
 under-tone with Mr. Bermingham. Fanny looked mischievous, and 
 Furlong kept his hand on the foot of his glass, and shoved it about 
 something in the fashion of an uncertain chess-player, who does not 
 know where to put the piece on which he has laid his finger. 
 
 The carriage was soon announced, and Mrs. Egan, as Furlong seemed 
 so anxious to go, rose from table ; and as she retired he made her a cold 
 and formal bow. He attempted a tender look, and soft word, to Fanny, 
 — for Furlong, who thought himself a beau garcon, had been playing 
 off his attractions upon her all day, but the mischievously merry Fanny 
 Dawson, when she caught the sheepish eye, and heard the mumbled 
 gallantry of the Castle Adonis, could not resist a titter, which obliged 
 her to hide her dimpling cheek and pearly teeth in her handkerchief 
 as she passed to the door. The ladies being gone, the Squire asked 
 Furlong, would he not have some more wine before he went. 
 
 " No, thank you, Miste' Wegan," replied he, " after being twicked 
 in the manner that a " 
 
 " Mr. Furlong," said the Squire, " you have said quite enough about 
 that. When you came into my house last night, sir, I had no intention 
 of practising any joke upon you. You should have had the hospitality 
 of an Irishman's house, without the consequence that has followed, had 
 you not indulged in sneering at the Irishman's country, which, to your 
 shame be it spoken, is your own. You vaunted your own superior 
 intelligence and finesse over us, sir; and told us you came down to 
 overthrow poor Pat in the trickery of electioneering movements. Under 
 
112 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 those circumstances, sir, I think what we have done is quite fair. We 
 have shown you that you are no match for us in the finesse upon 
 which you pride yourself so much ; and the next time you talk of your 
 countrymen, and attempt to undervalue them, just remember how you 
 have been outwitted at Merryvale House. Good evening, Mr. Furlong. 
 I hope we part without owing each other any ill-will." The Squire 
 offered his hand, but Furlong drew up, and amidst such expletives 
 as " weally," and " I must say," he at last made use of the word 
 " atwocious." 
 
 " What's that you say ?" said Dick. " You don't speak very plain, 
 and I'd like to be sure of the last word you used." 
 
 " I mean to say that a " and Furlong, not much liking the tone 
 
 of Dick's question, was humming and hawing a sort of explanation of 
 what " he meant to say," when Dick thus interrupted him, — 
 
 " I tell you this, Mr. Furlong, — all that has been done is my doing 
 — I've humbugged you, sir — humbugged. I've sold you — dead. I've 
 pump'd you, sir — all your electioneering bag of tricks, bribery, 
 and all, exposed ; and, now go off to O'Grady, and tell him how the 
 poor ignorant Irish have done you ; and, see, Mr. Furlong," added Di.ck 
 in a quiet under-tone, " if there's anything that either he or you don't 
 like about the business, you shall have any satisfaction you like, and as 
 often as you please." 
 
 " I shall conside' of that, sir," said Furlong, as he left the house, and 
 entered the carriage, where he threw himself back in offended dignity, 
 and soliloquized vows of vengeance. But the bumping of the carriage 
 over a rough road disturbed the pleasing reveries of revenge, to awaken 
 him to the more probable and less agreeable consequences likely to 
 occur to himself for the blunder he had made ; for, with all the puppy's 
 self-sufficiency and conceit, he could not by any process of mental delu- 
 sion conceal from himself the fact that he had been most tremendously 
 done, and how his party would take it was a serious consideration. 
 O'Grady, another horrid Irish squire — how should he face him? For a 
 moment he thought it better to go back to Dublin, and he pulled the 
 check-string — the carriage stopped — down went the front glass. " I 
 say, coachman." 
 
 "I'm not the coachman, sir." 
 
 " Well, whoever you are — " 
 
 " I'm the groom only, sir ; for the coachman was — " 
 
 " D — n it, I don't want to know who you are, or about your affairs*, 
 I want you to listen to me — cawrft you listen." 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 " Well, then — dwive to the village." 
 
 " I thought it was to the Hall I was to dhrive, sir." 
 
 " Do what you're told, sir, — the village ! " 
 
 " What village, sir ?" asked Mat, the groom — who knew well enough, 
 but from Furlong's impertinence did not choose to understand anything 
 gratuitously. 
 
 " Why the village I came fwom yeste'day." 
 
 " What village was that, sir?" 
 
 " How stoopid you are ! — the village the mail goes to." 
 
HANDY ANDY. 113 
 
 " Sure, the mail goes to all the villages in Ireland, sir." 
 
 " You pwovoking blockead! — Good heavens, how stoopid you I wish 
 are! — the village that leads to Dublin." 
 
 " Faith, they all lead to Dublin, sir." 
 
 " Confound you — you must know! — the posting village, you know — 
 that is, not the post town, if you know what a post town is." 
 
 " To be sure 1 do, sir — where they sell blankets, you mane." 
 
 "No! — no! — no! — I want to go to the village where they keep 
 postchaises — now you know." 
 
 " Fa'x, they have po'chayses in all the villages here; there's no 
 betther accommodation for man or baste in the world than here, sir." 
 
 Furlong was mute from downright vexation, till his rage got vent in 
 an oath, another denunciation of Irish stupidity, and at last a declara- 
 tion that the driver must know the village. 
 
 " How would I know it, sir, when you don't know it yourself?" 
 asked the groom ; "I suppose it has a name to it, and if you tell me 
 that, I'll dhrive you there fast enough." 
 
 " I cannot wemember yOur howwid names here — it is a Bal, or Bally, 
 or some such gibbewish — " 
 
 Mat would not be enlightened. 
 
 " Is there not Bal or Bally something? " 
 
 " Oh a power o' Bailies, sir; there's Ballygash, and Ballyslash, and 
 Ballysmish, and Ballysmash, and" — so went on Mat, inventing a string 
 of Bailies till he was stopped by the enraged Furlong., 
 
 " None o' them! none o' them!" exclaimed he in a fury; " 'tis 
 something about ' dirt,' or 'mud.'" 
 
 " Maybe 'twould be gutther, sir," said Mat, who saw Furlong was 
 near the mark, and he thought he might as well make a virtue of telling 
 him. 
 
 " I believe you're right," said Furlong. 
 
 " Then it is Ballysloughgutthery you want to go to, sir." 
 
 " That's the name!" said Furlong, snappishly; " dwive there f' and, 
 hastily pulling up the glass, he threw himself back again in the carriage. 
 Another troubled vision of what the secretary would say came across 
 him, and, after ten minutes' balancing the question, and trembling at 
 the thoughts of an official blowing up, he thought he had better even 
 venture on an Irish squire ; so the check-string was again pulled, and 
 the glass hastily let down. 
 
 Mat halted. " Yis, sir," said Mat. 
 
 " I think I've changed my mind — dwive to the Hall ! " 
 
 " I wish you towld me, sir, before I took the last turn — we're nigh 
 a mile towards the village now." 
 
 " No matte', sir!" said Furlong ; " dwive where I tell you." 
 
 Up went the glass again, and Mat turned round the horses and car- 
 riage with some difficulty in a nnrrow by-road. 
 
 Another vision came across the bewildered fancy of Furlong — the 
 certainty of the fury of O'Grady — the immediate contempt, as well as 
 anger, attendant on his being bamboozled ; and the result, at last, being 
 the same, in drawing down the secretary's anger. This produced 
 another change of intention, and he let down the glass for the third 
 
 i 
 
114 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 time, — once more changed his orders as concisely as possible, and pulled 
 it up again. All this time Mat was laughing internally at the bewilder- 
 ment of the stranger, and as he turned round the carriage again he 
 exclaimed, " By this and that, you're as hard to dhrive as a pig; for 
 you'll neither go one road nor th'other." He had not proceeded far, 
 when Furlong determined to face O'Grady instead of the Castle, and 
 the last and final order for another turnabout was given. Mat hardly 
 suppressed an oath ; but respect for his master's carriage and horses 
 stopped him. The glass of the carriage was not pulled up this time, 
 and Mat was asked a few questions about the Hall, and at last about 
 the Squire. Now Mat had acuteness enough to fathom the cause of 
 Furlong's indecision, and determined to make him as unhappy as he 
 could ; therefore, to the question of " What sort of a man the Squire 
 was," Mat, reechoing the question, replied — " What sort of a man, sir? 
 — faith, he's not a man at all, sir; he's the divil." 
 
 Furlong pulled up the glass, and employed the interval between 
 Mat's answer and reaching the Hall in making up his mind as to how 
 he should " face the devil." 
 
 The carriage, after skirting a high and ruinous wall for some time, 
 stopped before a gateway that had once been handsome ; and Furlong was 
 startled by the sound of a most thundering bell, which the vigorous pull 
 of Mat stimulated to its utmost pitch ; the baying of dogs which fol- 
 lowed was terrific. A savage-looking gatekeeper made his appearance 
 with a light — not in a lantern, but shaded with his tattered hat : many 
 questions and answers ensued, and at last the gate was opened. The 
 carriage proceeded up a very rough avenue, and stopped before a large, 
 rambling sort of building, which even moonligh could exhibit to be 
 very much out of repair. After repeated knocking at the door, (for 
 Mat knew his squire and the other squire were not friends now, and 
 that he might be impudent,) the door was unchained and unbarred, and 
 Furlong deposited in Neck-or-Nothing Hall. 
 
HANDY ANDY. 115 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 " Sucli is the custom of Branksome hall." — Lay of the Last Minscrel. 
 
 ]* T erit-or--NQt!}tng f^all. 
 
 Canto K. 
 
 Ten good nights and ten good days 
 It would take to tell the ways, 
 * Various, many, and amazing, 
 
 Neek-or-nothing bangs all praising; 
 Wonders great and wonders small 
 Are found in Neek-or-Nothing Hall. 
 
 Racing rascals, of ten a twain, 
 
 Who care not a rush for hail nor rain, 
 
 Messages swiftly to go or to come, 
 
 Or duck a taxman or harry a bum,* 
 
 Or "clip a server,"f did blithely lie 
 
 In the stable parlour next to the sky. \ 
 
 Dinners, save chance ones, seldom had they, 
 
 Unless they could nibble their beds of hay. 
 
 But the less they got, they were hardier all — 
 
 'Twas the custom of Neck-or-Nothing Hall. 
 
 <©11E lord.there sat in that terrible hall; 
 
 dtoo ladies came at his terrible call, — 
 
 One his mother, and one his wife, 
 
 Each afraid of her separate life ; 
 
 CljlfC girls who trembled — .-jfotlf boys who shook 
 
 Jf itt times a-day at his lowering look ; 
 
 S£iX blunderbusses in goodly show, 
 
 SebfH horse-pistols were ranged below; 
 
 33igf)t domestics, great and small, 
 
 In idlesse, did nothing but curse them all ; 
 
 jUtlie state-beds, where no one slept — 
 
 QltXl for family use were kept ; 
 
 Dogs iSIcbftt with bums to make free, 
 
 With a bold &1)ir1mi§ in the treasury! 
 
 Such its numerical strength, I guess ; 
 
 It can't be more, but it may be less. 
 
 * A facetious phrase for bailiff; so often kicked, 
 f Cutting off the ears of a process-server. 
 I Hayloft. 
 A shilling, so called from its being worth thirteen pence in those days. 
 
 i 2 
 
116 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 Tar-barrels new, and feathers old, 
 Are ready, I trow, for the caitiff bold 
 
 Who dares to invade 
 
 The stormy shade 
 
 Of the grim O' Grade, 
 In his hunting hold. 
 
 When the iron-tongue of the old gate beh 
 Summons the growling groom from his cell, 
 
 Through cranny and crook, 
 
 They peer and they look, 
 With guns to send the intruders to heaven.* 
 But when passwords pass 
 That might " sarve a mass,"f 
 Then bars are drawn and chains let fall, 
 And you get into Neck-or-Nothing Ha' 
 
 OTanto IL 
 
 And never a doubt 
 
 But when you are in, 
 
 If you love a whole skin, 
 
 I'll wager and win, 
 You'll be glad to get out. 
 
 Doctor Growling' s Metrical Romance. 
 
 The bird's-eye view which the doctor's peep from Parnassus has 
 afforded, may furnish the imagination of the reader with materials to 
 create in his own mind a vague, yet not unjust, notion of Neck-or- 
 Nothing Hall; but certain details of the hall itself, its inmates, and its 
 customs, may be desired by the matter-of-fact reader or the more 
 minutely curious, and as an author has the difficult task before him 
 of trying to please all tastes, something more definite is required. 
 
 The hall itself was, as we have said, a rambling sort of structure. 
 Ramifying from a solid centre, which gave the notion of a founder well 
 to do in the world, additions, without any architectural pretensions to 
 fitness, were stuck on here and there, as whim or necessity suggested or 
 demanded, and a most incongruous mass of gables, roofs, and chimneys, 
 odd windows and blank walls, was the consequence. According to the 
 circumstances of the occupants who inherited the property, the building 
 was either increased or neglected. A certain old bachelor, for example, 
 who in the course of events inherited the property, had no necessity for 
 nurses, nursery-maids, and their consequent suite of apartments ; and as 
 he never aspired to the honour of matrimony, the ball-room, the draw- 
 ing-room, and extra bed-chambers, were neglected : while, he being a 
 fox-hunter, a new kennel and range of stables were built, the dining- 
 room enlarged, and all the ready-money he could get at spent in 
 augmenting the plate, to keep pace with the racing-cups he won, and 
 proudly displayed at his dr-inking bouts ; and when he died suddenly 
 
 * This is not the word in the MS. 
 
 t Serving mass occupies about twenty-five minutes. 
 
HANDY ANDY. 117 
 
 (broke his neck), the plate was seized at the suit of his wine-merchant; 
 and as the heir next in succession got the property in a ruinous condi- 
 tion, it was impossible to keep a stud of horses along with a wife and a 
 large family, so the stables and kennel went to decay, while the lady's 
 and family apartments could only be patched up. When the house was 
 dilapidated, the grounds about it, of course, were ill kept. Fine old 
 trees were there, originally intended to afford shade to walks which were 
 so neglected as to be no more walkable than any other part of the 
 grounds — the vista of aspiring stems indicated where an avenue had 
 been, but neither hoe nor rolling-stone had, for many a year, checked 
 the growth of grass or weed. — So much for the outside of the house : 
 now for the inside. 
 
 That had witnessed many a thoughtless, expensive, headlong, and 
 irascible master, but never one more so than the present owner ; added 
 to which, he had the misfortune of being unpopular. Other men, 
 thoughtless, and headlong, and irritable as he, have lived and had 
 friends, but there was something about O'Grady that was felt, perhaps, 
 more than it could be defined, which made him unpleasing: — perhaps the 
 homely phrase " cross-grained " may best express it, and O'Grady was, 
 essentially, a cross-grained man. The estate, when he got it, was pretty 
 heavily saddled, and the " galled jade " did not " wince '' the less for his 
 riding. 
 
 A good jointure to his mother was chargeable on the property, and 
 this was an excuse on all occasions for the Squire's dilatory payment in 
 other quarters. " Sir," he would say, "my mother's jointure is sacred 
 — it is more than the estate can well bear, it is true — but it is a sacred 
 claim, and I would sooner sacrifice my life — my honour, sir, than see 
 
 that claim neglected ! " Now all this sounded mighty fine, but his 
 
 mother could never get her jointure regularly paid, and was obliged to 
 live in the house with him : she was somewhat of an oddity, and had 
 apartments to herself, and, as long as she was let alone, and allowed to 
 read romances in quiet, did not complain ; and whenever a stray ten 
 pound note did fall into her hands, she gave the greater part of it to her 
 younger grand-daughter, who was fond of flowers and plants, and sup- 
 ported a little conservatory on her grandmother's bounty, she paying 
 the tribute of a bouquet to the old lady when the state of her botanical 
 prosperity could afford it. The eldest girl was a favourite of an uncle, 
 and her passion being dogs, all the presents her uncle made her in 
 money were converted into canine curiosities ; while the youngest girl 
 took an interest in the rearing of poultry. Now the boys, varying in 
 age from eight to fourteen, had their separate favourites too : — one loved 
 bull dogs and terriers, another game cocks, the third ferrets, and the 
 fourth rabbits and pigeons. These multifarious tastes produced strange 
 results. — In the house, flowers and plants, indicating refinement of 
 taste and costliness, were strongly contrasted with broken plaster, soiled 
 hangings, and faded paint ; an expensive dog might be seen lapping 
 cream out of a shabby broken plate ; a never-ending sequence of wars 
 raged among the dependant favourites ; the bull dogs and terriers chop- 
 ping up the ferrets, the ferrets killing the game cocks, the game cocks 
 killing the tame poultry and rabbits, and the rabbits destroying the 
 
118 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 garden, assisted by the flying reserve of pigeons. It was a sort of Irish 
 retaliation, so amusingly exemplified in the nursery jingle : 
 
 The water began to quench the fire, 
 The fire began to burn the stick, 
 The stick began to beat the dog. 
 The dog began to bite the kid. 
 
 In the midst of all these distinct and clashing tastes, that of Mrs. 
 O'Grady (the wife) must not be forgotten ; her weak point was a 
 feather bed. Good soul ! anxious that whoever slept under her roof 
 should lie softly, she would go to the farthest corner of the county to 
 secure an accession to her favourite property — and such a collection of 
 luxurious feather-beds never was seen in company with such rickety 
 bedsteads, and tattered and mildewed curtains, in rooms uncarpeted, 
 whose paper was dropping off the wall : well might it be called paper- 
 hanging, indeed ! — whose washing-tables were of deal, and whose delft 
 was of the plainest ware, and even that minus sundry handles and 
 spouts. Nor was the renowned O'Grady without his hobby, too. 
 While the various members of his family were thwarting each other, 
 his master mischief was thwarting them all ; like some wicked giant 
 looking down on a squabble of dwarfs, and ending the fight by kicking 
 them all right and left. Then he had his troop of pets, too — idle black- 
 guards who were slingeing* about the place eternally, keeping up a sort 
 of "cordon sanitaire " to prevent the pestilential presence of a bailiff, 
 which is so catching, and turns to jail fever : — a disease which had been 
 fatal in the family. O'Grady never ventured beyond his domain, except 
 on the back of a fleet horse — there he felt secure : indeed, the place he 
 most dreaded legal assault in, was his own house, where he apprehended 
 trickery might invade him : a carriage might be but a feint, and hence 
 the great circumspection in the opening of doors. 
 
 From the nature of the establishment, thus hastily sketched, the reader 
 will see what an ill-regulated jumble it was. The master, in difficulties, 
 had disorderly people hanging about his place for his personal security ; 
 from these very people his boys picked up the love of dog-fights, cock- 
 fights, &c. ; and they, from the fights of their pets, fought amongst 
 themselves, and were always fighting with their sisters ; so the reader 
 will see the "metrical romance " was not overcharged in its rhymes on 
 Neck-or-Nothing Hall. 
 
 When Furlong entered the hall he gave his name to a queer-looking 
 servant, with wild scrubby hair, a dirty face, a tawdry livery, worse for 
 wear, which had manifestly been made for a larger man, and hung upon 
 its present possessor like a coat upon a clothes-horse ; his cotton stock- 
 ings, meant to be white, and clumsy shoes, meant to be black, met each 
 other half-way, and split the difference in a pleasing neutral tint. 
 Leaving Furlong standing in the hall, he clattered up stairs, and a 
 dialogue ensued between master and man, so loud that Furlong could 
 hear the half of it, and his own name in a tone of doubt, with that of 
 " Egan " in a tone of surprise, and that of his " sable majesty " in a tone of 
 
 * An Hibernicism, expressive oflounging laziness. 
 
HANDY ANDY- 119 
 
 anger, rapidly succeeded one another ; then such broken words and sen- 
 tences as these ensued, — " fudge ! — humbug! — rascally trick ! — eh ! — 
 by the hokey, they'd better take care ! — put the scoundrel under the 
 pump ! " 
 
 Furlong more than half suspected it was to him this delicate attention 
 was intended, and began to feel uncomfortable ; he sharpened his ears 
 to their keenest hearing, but there was a lull in the conversation, and 
 he could ascertain one of the gentler sex was engaged in it, by the ogre- 
 like voice uttering, — "Fudge, woman! — fiddle-de-dee!" Then he 
 caught the words, " perhaps " and " gentleman," in a lady's voice, — then 
 out thundered "that rascal's carriage ! — why come in that ? — friend! — 
 humbug ! — rascal's carriage ! — tar and feather him, by this and that !" 
 
 Furlong began to feel very uncomfortable ; the conversation ended ; 
 down came the servant, to whom Furlong was about to address himself, 
 when the man said, " he would be with him in a minit," and vanished ; 
 a sort of reconnoitering party, one by one, then passed through the hall, 
 eyeing the stranger very suspiciously, any of them to whom Furlong 
 ventured a word, scurrying off in double quick time. For an instant 
 he meditated a retreat, and looking to the door saw a heavy chain across 
 it, the pattern of which must have been had from Newgate. He at- 
 tempted to unfasten it, and as it clanked heavily, the ogre's voice from 
 up stairs bellowed " Who the d — l's that opening the door ?" Furlong's 
 hand dropped from the chain, and a low growling went on up the stair- 
 case. The servant whom he first saw returned. 
 
 " I fear," said Furlong, " there is some misappwehension." 
 
 " A what, sir ?" 
 
 " A misappwehension." 
 
 " Oh no, sir ! it's only a mistake the master thought you might be 
 making ; he thinks you mistuk the house, may be, sir." 
 
 "Oh, no — I wather think he mistakes me; will you do me the 
 favo'," — and he produced a packet of papers as he spoke, — "the favo' to 
 take my cwedentials to Mr. O'Gwady, and if he thwows his eye over 
 these pape's— " 
 
 At the word " papers," there was a shout from above, " Don't touch 
 them, you thief, don't touch them ! — another blister, — ha, ha ! — by the 
 'ternal this and that, I'll have him in the horse-pond !" A heavy stamp- 
 ing overhead ensued, and furious ringing of bells ; in the midst of the 
 din a very pale lady came down stairs, and, pointing the way to a small 
 room, beckoned Furlong to follow her. For a moment he hesitated, for 
 his heart misgave him ; but shame at the thought of doubting or re- 
 fusing the summons of a lady overcame his fear, and he followed to a 
 little parlour, where mutual explanations between Mrs. O'Grady and 
 himself, and many messages, questions, and answers, which she carried 
 up and down stairs, at length set Furlong's mind at ease respecting his 
 personal safety, and finally admitted him into the presence of the trucu- 
 lent lord of the castle, — who, when he heard that Furlong had been 
 staying in the enemy's camp, was not, it may be supposed, in a sweet 
 state of temper to receive him. O'Grady looked thunder as Furlong 
 entered : and eyeing him keenly for some seconds, as if he were taking 
 a mental as well as an ocular measurement of him, he saluted him with, 
 
120 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 "Well, sir, — >a pretty kettle of fish you've made of this. I hope you 
 have not blabbed much about our affairs." 
 
 " Why, I weally don't know — I'm not sure — that is, I won't be posi- 
 tive, because when one is thwown off his guard, you know — " 
 
 " Pooh, sir ! a man should never be off his guard in an election. 
 But, how the d — 1, sir, could you make such a thundering mistake as 
 to go to the wrong house ?" 
 
 " It was a howwid postilion, Miste' O'Gwady." 
 
 " The scoundrel," exclaimed O'Grady, stamping up and down the 
 room. 
 
 At this moment a tremendous crash was heard ; the ladies jumped 
 from their seats ; O'Grady paused in his rage, and his poor pale wife 
 exclaimed, " 'Tis in the conservatory." 
 
 A universal rush was now made to the spot, and there was Handy 
 Andy buried in the ruins of flower-pots and exotics, directly under an 
 enormous breach in the glass-roof of the building. How this occurred, 
 a few words will explain. Andy, when he went to sleep in the justice- 
 room, slept soundly for some hours, but awoke in the horrors of a 
 dream, in which he fancied he was about to be hanged. So impressed 
 was he by the vision, that he determined on making his escape if he 
 could, and to this end piled the chair upon the desk, and the volumes 
 of law books on the chair; and being an active fellow, contrived to 
 scramble up high enough to lay his hand on the frame of the sky-light, 
 and thus make his way out on the roof. Then walking, as well as the 
 darkness would permit him, along the coping of the wall, he approached, 
 as it chanced, the conservatory, but the coping being loose, one of the 
 flags turned under Andy's foot, and bang he went through the glass- 
 roof, carrying down in his fall some score of flower-pots, and finally 
 stuck in a tub, with his legs upwards, and embowered in the branches of 
 crushed geraniums and hydrangias. 
 
 He was dragged out of the tub, amidst a shower of curses from 
 O'Grady ; but the moment Andy recovered the few senses he had, 
 and saw Furlong, regardless of the anathemas of the Squire, he shouted 
 out, " There he is ! — there he is !" and, rushing towards him, ex- 
 claimed, " Now, did I dhrowned you, sir, — did I ? Sure, I never 
 murdhered you !" 
 
 'Twas as much as could be done to keep O'Grady 's hands off Andy, 
 for smashing the conservatory, when Furlong's presence made hkn no 
 longer liable to imprisonment. 
 
 " Maybe he has a vote ?" said Furlong, anxious to display how much 
 he was on the qui vive in election matters. 
 
 " Have you a vote, you rascal ?" said O'Grady. 
 
 " You may sarche me, if you like, your honour," said Andy, who 
 thought a vote was some sort of property he was suspected of 
 stealing. 
 
 *' You are either the biggest rogue, or the biggest fool, I ever met," 
 said O'Grady. " Which are you now ?" 
 
 " Whichever your honour plazes," said Andy. 
 
 " If I forgive you, will you stand by me at the election ?" 
 
 " I'll stand anywhere your honour bids me," said Andy humbly. 
 
HANDY ANDY. 121 
 
 " That's a thoroughgoing rogue, I'm inclined to think," said O'Grady 
 aside, to Furlong, 
 
 " He looks more like a fool, in my appwehension," was the reply. 
 
 " Oh, these fellows conceal the deepest roguery sometimes under an 
 assumed simplicity. — You don't understand the Irish." 
 
 " Unde'stand !" exclaimed Furlong ; " I pwonounce the whole coun- 
 twy quite incompwehensible !" 
 
 "Well!" growled O'Grady to Andy, after a moment's considera- 
 tion, " go down to the kitchen, you housebreaking-vagabond, and get 
 your supper ! " 
 
 Now, considering the " fee, faw, fum," qualities of O'Grady, the 
 reader may be surprised at- the easy manner in which Andy slipped 
 through his fingers, after having slipped through the roof of his conser- 
 vatory ; but as between two stools folks fall to the ground, so between 
 two rages people sometimes tumble into safety. O'Grady was in a 
 divided passion — first, his wrath was excited against Furlong for his 
 blunder, and just as that was about to explode, the crash of Andy's 
 sudden appearance amidst the flower-pots (like a practical parody on 
 "Love among the roses") called off the gathering storm in a new 
 direction, and the fury sufficient to annihilate one, was, by dispersion, 
 harmless to two. But on the return of the party from the conservatory, 
 after Andy's descent to the kitchen, O'Grady's rage against Furlong, 
 though moderated, had settled down into a very substantial dissatisfaction, 
 which he evinced by poking his nose between his forefinger and thumb, 
 as if he meditated the abstraction of that salient feature from his face, 
 shuffling his feet about, throwing his right leg over his left knee, and 
 then suddenly, as if that were a mistake, throwing his left over the 
 right, thrumming on the arm of his chair with his clenched hand, inhaling 
 the air very audibly through his protruded lips, as if he were supping 
 hot soup, and all the time fixing his eyes on the fire with a portentous 
 gaze, as if he would have evoked from it a salamander. 
 
 Mrs. O'Grady, in such a state of affairs, wishing to speak to the 
 stranger, yet anxious she should say nothing that could bear upon imme- 
 diate circumstances, lest she might rouse her awful lord and master, 
 racked her invention for what she should say: and at last, with "bated 
 breath " and a very worn-out smile, faltered forth — 
 
 " Pray, Mr. Furlong, are you fond of shuttlecock? " 
 
 Furlong stared, and began a reply of " Weally, I cawnt say that — " 
 
 When O'Grady gruffly broke in with "You'd better ask him, does he 
 love teetotum." 
 
 " I thought you could recommend me the best establishment in the 
 metropolis, Mr. Furlong, for buying shuttlecocks," continued the lady, 
 unmindful of the interruption. 
 
 " You had better ask him where you could get mousetraps," growled 
 O'Grady. 
 
 Mrs. O'Grady was silent, and O'Grady, whose rage had now assumed 
 its absurd form of tagging changes, continued, increasing his growl, like 
 a crescendo on the double-bass, as he proceeded: " You'd better ask, I 
 think — mouse-traps — steel- traps — clap-traps — rat-traps — rattle-traps — 
 rattle-snakes! " 
 
122 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 Furlong stared, — Mrs. O'Grady was silent, — and the Misses O'Grady 
 cast fearful sidelong glances at " Pa," whose strange iteration always be- 
 spoke his not being in what good people call a " sweet state of mind ;" 
 he laid hold of a tea-spoon, and began beating a tattoo on the mantel- 
 piece to a low smothered whistle of some very obscure tune, which was 
 suddenly stopped to say to Furlong, very abruptly, 
 
 "So, Egan diddled you?" 
 
 " Why, he certainly, as I conceive, pwactised, or I might say, in 
 short — he — a — in fact — " 
 
 " Oh, yes," said O'Grady, cutting short Furlong's humming and 
 hawing; "oh yes, I know, — diddled you." 
 
 Bang went the spoon again, keeping time with another string of non- 
 sense. — " Diddled you — diddle, diddle, the cat and the fiddle, the cow 
 jumped over the moon. — who was there ?" 
 
 "A Mister Dawson." 
 
 " Phew !" ejaculated O'Grady, with a doleful whistle ; " Dick the 
 Divil ! You were in nice hands ! All up with us, — up with us, — 
 
 Up, up, up, 
 
 Aud here we go down, down, down, Derry down ! 
 
 Oh, murther !" and the spoon went faster than before. " Any one 
 else ?" 
 
 " Mister Bermingham." 
 
 " Bermingham !" exclaimed O'Grady. 
 
 " A clergyman, I think," drawled Furlong. 
 
 " Bermingham !" reiterated O'Grady. " What business has he there, 
 
 and be !" O'Grady swallowed a curse when he remembered he 
 
 was a clergyman. " The enemy's camp — not his principles ! Oh, Ber- 
 mingham, Bermingham — BW/nmagem, Br?mmagem, Sheffield, Wol- 
 verhampton — Murther ! Any one else ? Was Durfy there ?" 
 
 " No," said Furlong ; " but there was an odd pe'son, whose name 
 wymes to his — as you seem fond of wymes, Mister O'Gwady." 
 
 " What !" said O'Grady, quickly, and fixing his eye on Furlong ; 
 " Murphy ?" 
 
 " Yes. Miste' Muffy." 
 
 O'Grady gave a more doleful whistle than before, and, banging the 
 spoon faster than ever, exclaimed again, " Murphy ! — then I'll tell you 
 what it is ; do you see that ?" And he held up the spoon before Fur- 
 long, who, being asked the same question several times, confessed he 
 did see the spoon. " Then I'll tell you what it is," said O'Grady again; 
 " I wouldn't give you that for the election ;" and with a disdainful jerk, 
 he threw the spoon into the fire. After which he threw himself back 
 in his chair, with an appearance of repose, while he glanced fiercely up 
 at the ceiling and indulged in a very low whistle indeed. One of the girls 
 stole softy round to the fire, and gently took up the tongs to recover 
 the spoon ; it made a slight rattle, and her father turned smartly round, 
 and said, " Can't you let the fire alone ? — there's coal enough on it ; — 
 the devil burn 'em all, — Egan, Murphy, and all o' them ! What do you 
 stand there for, with the tongs in your hands, like a hairdresser or a 
 stuck pig? I tell you I'm as hot as a lime kiln ; go out o' that !" 
 
-- 
 
 — ~-) 
 
 
 . 
 
HANDY ANDY. 123 
 
 The daughter retired, and the spoon was left to its fate ; the ladies 
 did not dare to utter a word ; O'Grady continued his gaze on the ceiling, 
 and his whistle ; and Furlong, very uncomfortable and much more 
 astonished, after sitting in silence for some time, thought a retreat the 
 best move he could make, and intimated his wish to retire. 
 
 Mrs. O'Grady gently suggested it was yet early ; which Furlong 
 acknowledged, but pleaded his extreme fatigue after a day of great 
 exertion. 
 
 " I suppose you were canvassing," said O'Grady, with a wicked 
 grin. 
 
 " Ce'tainly not : they could ha'dly pwesume on such a twick as that, 
 I should think, in my pwesence." 
 " Then what fatigued you? — eh?" 
 " Salmon fishing, sir." 
 
 " What ! " exclaimed O'Grady, opening his fierce eyes and turning 
 suddenly round. " Salmon fishing ! Where the d — 1 were you salmon- 
 fishing ? " 
 
 " Tn the wiver, close by here." 
 
 The ladies now all stared ; but Furlong advanced a vehement assur- 
 ance, in answer to their looks of wonder, that he had taken some very 
 fine salmon indeed 
 
 The girls could .not suppress their laughter ; and O'Grady, casting a 
 look of mingled rage and contempt on the fisherman, merely uttered 
 the ejaculation, " Oh Moses ! " and threw himself back in his chair ; 
 but starting up a moment after, he rang the bell violently. " What do 
 you want, my dear ? " said his poor wife, venturing to lift her eyes, and 
 speaking in the humblest tone — " what do you want? " 
 
 " Some broiled bones ! " said O'Grady, very much like an ogre ; " I 
 want something to settle my stomach after what Fve heard, for by the 
 powers of ipecacuanha, 'tis enough to make a horse sick — sick, by the 
 powers ! — shivering all over like a dog in a wet sack. I must have 
 broiled bones and hot punch ! " 
 
 The servant entered, and O'Grady swore at him for not coming 
 sooner, though he was really expeditious in his answer to the bell. 
 " Confound your lazy bones ; vou're never in time." 
 " 'Deed, sir ; I came the minit I heerd the bell." 
 " Hold your tongue ! who bid you talk ? The devil fly away with 
 you ! and you'll never go fast till he does. Make haste now — go to 
 the cook — " 
 " Yes, sir—" 
 
 " Curse you, can't you wait till you get your message — go to the 
 devil with you! — get some broiled bones — hot water and tumblers — 
 don't forget the whisky — and pepper them well. Mind, hot — every 
 thing hot — screeching hot. Be off, now, and make haste — mind ! — 
 make haste ! — " 
 
 " Yes, sir," said the servant, whipping out of the room with celerity, 
 and thanking Heaven when he had the door between him and his 
 savage master. When he got to the kitchen, he told the cook to make 
 haste, if ever she made haste in her life, " for there's owld Danger, up 
 stairs, in the divil's timper, God bless us ! " said Mick. 
 
124 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 " Faix, he's always that," said the cook, scurrying across the kitchen 
 for the gridiron. 
 
 " Oh, but he's beyant all, to-night," said Mick ; " I think he'll mur- 
 ther that chap up stairs, before he stops." 
 
 " Oh, wirra ! wirra ! " cried the cook ; '' there's the fire not bright, 
 bad luck to it, and he wantin' a brile ! " 
 
 " Bright or not bright," said Mick, " make haste, I'd advise you, or 
 he'll have your life." 
 The bell rang violently. 
 
 " There, do you here him tattherin ! " said Mick, rushing up stairs — 
 " I thought it was tay they wor takin'," said Larry Hogan, who was 
 sitting in the chimney corner, smoking. 
 " So they are," said the cook. 
 
 " Then I suppose briled bones is ginteel with tay ! " said Larry. 
 " Oh no ! it's not for tay, at all, they want them ; it's only ould 
 Danger himself. Whenever he's in a rage, he ates briled bones." 
 
 " Faith, they're a brave cure for anger," said Larry ; " I wouldn't be 
 angry myself, if I had one." 
 
 Down rushed Mick, to hurry the cook — bang, twang! went the bell, 
 as he spoke. " Oh, listen to him ! " said Mick ; " for the tendher 
 mercy o' Heaven, make haste ! " 
 
 The cook transferred the bones from the gridiron to a hot dish. 
 " Oh, murther, but they're smoked ! " said Mick. 
 " No matther," said the cook, shaking her red elbow furiously ; " I'll 
 smother the smoke with the pepper — there ! — give them a good dab o' 
 musthard now, and serve them hot ! " 
 
 Away rushed Mick, as the bell was rattled into fits again. 
 While the cook had been broiling bones for O'Grady, below, he had 
 been grilling Furlong for himself, above. In one of the pauses of the 
 storm, the victim ventured to suggest to his tormentor that all the mis- 
 chances that had arisen might have been avoided, if O'Grady had met 
 him at the village, as he requested of him in one of his letters. O'Grady 
 denied all knowledge of such a request, and after some queries about 
 certain portions of the letter, it became manifest it had miscarried. 
 
 " There ! " said O'Grady — " there's a second letter astray ; I'm 
 certain they put my letters astray on purpose. There's a plot in the 
 post-office against me ; by this and that, I'll have an inquiry. I wish 
 all the post-offices in the world were blown up; and all the postmasters 
 hanged, postmaster-general and all — I do — by the 'ternal war, I do — 
 and all the mail coaches in the world ground to powder, and the roads 
 they go on, into the bargain — devil a use in them, but to carry bad 
 news over the universe — for all the letters with any good in them are 
 lost; and if there's a money enclosure in one, that's sure to be robbed. 
 Blow the post-office ! say 1 — blow it, and sink it! " 
 
 It was at this moment Mick entered with the broiled bones, and 
 while he was in the room, placing glasses on the table and making the 
 necessary arrangements for making " screeching hot punch," he heard 
 O'Grady and Furlong talking about the two lost letters. On his 
 descent to the kitchen, the cook was spreading a bit of supper there, in 
 which Andy was to join, Andy having just con pleted some applications 
 
HANDY ANDY. 125 
 
 of brown paper and vinegar to the bruises received in bis fall. Larry 
 Hogan, too, was invited to share in the repast ; and it was not the first 
 time, by many, that Larry quartered on the Squire, Indeed, many a 
 good larder was open to Larry Hogan ; he held a very deep interest in 
 the regards of all tbe female domestics over the country, not on the 
 strength of his personal charms, for Larry had a hanging lip, a snub 
 nose, a low forehead, a large ugly head, whose scrubby grizzled hair 
 grew round the crown somewhat in the form of a priest's tonsure. Not 
 on the strength of his gallantry, for Larry was always talking morality 
 and making sage reflections while he supplied the womankind with bits 
 of lace, rolls of ribbon, and now and then silk stockings. He always 
 had some plausible story of how they happened to come in his way, for 
 Larry was not a regular pedlar ; — carrying no box, he drew his chance 
 treasures from the recesses of very deep pockets, contrived in various 
 parts of his attire. No one asked Larry how he came by such a con- 
 tinued supply of natty articles, and if they had, Larry would not have 
 told them, for he was a very " close " man, as well as a " civil spoken," 
 under which character he was first introduced to the reader on the 
 memorable night of Andy's destructive adventure in his mother's cabin. 
 Larry Hogan was about as shrewd a fellow as any in the whole country, 
 and while no one could exactly make out what he was, or how he 
 made the two ends of his year meet, he knew nearly as much of every 
 one's affairs as they did themselves ; in the phrase of the country, he 
 was " as cute as a fox, as close as wax, and as deep as a draw-well." 
 
 The supper party sat down in the kitchen, and between every three 
 mouthfuls poor Mick could get, he was obliged to canter up stairs at 
 the call of the fiercely-rung bell. Ever and anon, as he returned, he 
 bolted his allowance with an ejaculation, sometimes pious, and some- 
 times the reverse, on the hard fate .of attending such a " born divil," 
 as he called the Squire. 
 
 " Why, he's worse nor ever, to-night," says the cook. " What ails 
 him, at all — what is it all about ?" 
 
 " Oh, he's blowin' and blastin' away, about that quare slink-lookin' 
 chap, up stairs, goin' to Squire Egan's instead of comin' here." 
 
 " That was a bit o' your handy work," said Larry, with a grim smile 
 at Andy. 
 
 " And then," said Mick, " he's swarin' all the murthers in the world 
 agen the whole counthry, about some letthers was stole out of the 
 post-office by somebody." 
 
 Andy's hand was in the act of raising a mouthful to his lips, when 
 these words were uttered ; his hand fell, and his mouth remained open. 
 Larry Hogan had his eye on him at the moment. 
 
 " He swares he'll have seme one in the body o' the jail," said 
 Mick ; " and he'll never stop till he sees them swing." 
 
 Andy thought of the effigy on the wall, and his dream, and grew pale. 
 
 "By the hokey," said Mick, "I never see him in sitch a tattherin' 
 rage !" — bang went the bell again — " Ow ! ow !" cried Mick, bolting a 
 piece of fat bacon, wiping his mouth in the sleeve of his livery, and run- 
 ning up stairs. 
 
 "Missis Cook, ma'am," said Andy, shoving back his chair from the 
 
12C HANDY ANDY. 
 
 table ; " thank you, ma'am, for your good supper. I think I'll be 
 goin' now." 
 
 "Sure, you're not done yet, man alive." 
 
 " Enough is as good as a feast, ma'am," replied Andy. 
 
 " Augh ! sure the morsel you took is more like a fast than a feast,' 
 said the cook ; " and it's not Lent." 
 
 " It's not lent, sure enough," said Larry Hogan, with a sly grin • 
 " it's not lent, for you gave it to him." 
 
 " Ah, Misther Hogan, you're always goin' on with your conund- 
 herums," said the cook ; " sure, that's not the lent I mane, at all — 
 I mane, Good Friday Lent." 
 
 " Faix, every Friday is good Friday that a man gets his supper," 
 said Larry. 
 
 " Well, you will be goin' on, Misther Hogan," said the cook. " Oh, 
 but you're a witty man, but I'd rather have a yard of your lace, any 
 day, than a mile o' your discourse." 
 
 " Sure, you oughtn't to mind my goin' on, when you're lettin' another 
 man go off, that-a-way," said Larry, pointing to Andy, who, hat in hand, 
 was quitting the kitchen. 
 
 " Faix, an' he mustn't go," said the cook ; " there's two twords to 
 that bargain," and she closed the door and put her back agains it. 
 
 " My mother's expectin' me, ma'am," said Andy. 
 
 " Throth, if it was your wife was expectin' you, she must wait a bit," 
 said the cook ; •' sure you wouldn't leave the thirsty curse on my 
 kitchen ? — you must take a dhrop before you go ; besides, the dogs about 
 the place would ate you, onless there was some one they knew along 
 wid you ; and sure, if a dog bit you, you couldn't dhrink wather afther, 
 let alone a dhrop o' beer, or a thrifle o' sper'ts : isn't that thrue, Misther 
 Hogan ?" 
 
 " Indeed, an' it is, ma'am," answered Larry ; " no one can dhrink 
 afther a dog bites them, and that's the rayson that the larn'd fackleties 
 calls the disaise high-dhry — '' 
 
 " High-dhry what ?" asked the cook. 
 
 " That's what I'm thinkin' of," said Larry. " High-dhry — high- 
 dhry — something." 
 
 " There's high-dhry snuff," said the cook. 
 
 " Oh, no — no, no, ma'am !" said Larry, waving his hand and shaking 
 his head, as if unwilling to be interrupted in endeavouring to recall 
 
 Some fleeting remembrance, 
 
 "high-dhry — po — po — something about po ; faith, it's not unlike 
 popery," said Larry. 
 
 " Don't say popery," cried the cook ; "it's a dirty word ! Say Roman 
 Catholic, when you spake of the faith.' 
 
 "Do you think /would undhervalue the faith?" said Larry, casting 
 up his eyes. " Oh, Missis Mulligan, you know little of me ; d'you 
 think I would undhervalue what is my hope past, present, and to come? 
 — what makes our hearts light when our lot is heavy? — what makes us 
 love our neighbour as ourselves ? — " 
 
 " Indeed, Misther Hogan," broke in the cook — " I never knew any 
 
HANDY ANDY. 127 
 
 one fonder of calling in on a neighbour than yourself, particularly 
 about dinner-time — " 
 
 " What makes us," said Larry, who would not let the cook interrupt 
 his outpouring of pious eloquence ; " what makes us fierce in pros- 
 perity to our friends, and meek in adversity to our inimies ?" 
 
 " Oh ! Misther Hogan !" said the cook, blessing herself. 
 
 " What puts the leg undher you when you are in throuble ? why, 
 your faith : what makes you below deceit, and above reproach, and 
 on neither side of nothin'? " Larry slapped the table like a prime 
 minister, and there was no opposition. " Oh, Missis Mulligan, do 
 you think I would desaive or bethray my fellow-crayture ? Oh, 
 no — I would not wrong the child unborn,'' — and this favourite phrase 
 of Larry (and other rascals) was and is, unconsciously, true : — for 
 people, most generally, must be born before they can be much 
 wronged. 
 
 " Oh, Missis Mulligan,'' said Larry, with a devotional appeal of his 
 eyes to the ceiling, "be at war with sin, and you'll be at paice with 
 yourself! " 
 
 Just as Larry wound up his pious peroration, Mick shoved in the 
 door against which the cook supported herself, and told Andy the Squire 
 said he should not leave the hall that night. 
 
 Andy looked agbast. 
 
 Again Larry Hogan'= .eye was on him. 
 
 " Sure I can come back here in the mornin'," said Andy, who at the 
 moment he spoke was conscious of the intention of being some forty 
 miles out of the place before dawn, if he could get away. 
 
 " When the Squire says a thing, it must be done," said Mick, " You 
 must sleep here." 
 
 " And pleasant dhrames to you," said Larry, who saw Andy wince 
 under his kindly-worded stab. 
 
 '< And where must I sleep ?" asked Andy, dolefully. 
 
 " Out in the big loft," said Mick. 
 
 li I'll show you the way," said Larry ; " I'm goin' to sleep there my- 
 self to-night, for it would be too far to go home. Good night, Mrs. 
 Mulligan — good night, Micky — come along, Andy." 
 
 Andy followed Hogan ; they had to cross a yard to reach the stables ; 
 the night was clear, and the waning moon Bhed a steady though not a 
 bright light on the enclosure. Hogan cast a lynx eye around him to see 
 if the coast were clear ; and satisfying himself it was, he laid his hand 
 impressively on Andy's arm as they reached the middle of the yard, 
 and setting Andy's face right against the moonlight, so that he might 
 watch the slightest expression, he paused for a moment before he 
 spoke ; and when he spoke, it was in a low mysterious whisper, — low, 
 as if he feared the night breeze might hear : — and the words were few, 
 but potent, which he uttered ; they were these, — " Who robbed the 
 post office ? " 
 
 The result quite satisfied Hogan ; and he knew how to turn his 
 knowledge to account. — O'Grady and Egan were no longer friends ; a 
 political contest was pending ; letters were missing ; Andy had been 
 Egan's servant ; and Larry Hogan had enough of that mental chemical 
 
128 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 power, which, from a few raw facts, unimportant separately, could make 
 a combination of great value. 
 
 Soon after breakfast at Merryvale the following morning, Mrs. Egail 
 wanted to see the squire. She went to his sitting-room — it was bolted. 
 He told her, from the inside, he was engaged just then, but would see 
 her by and by. She retired to the drawing-room, where Fanny was 
 singing. " Oh, Fanny,"' said her sister, " sing me that dear new song 
 of ' the voices' — 'tis so sweet, and must be felt by those who, like me, 
 have a happy home." 
 
 Fanny struck a few notes of a wild and peculiar symphony, and sang 
 her sister's favourite. 
 
 £Ti)c Voitt foi'tfjin. 
 
 You ask the dearest place on earth, 
 
 Whose simple joys can never die ; 
 'Tis the holy pale of the happy hearth, 
 Where love doth light each beaming eye ! 
 With snowy shroud 
 Let tempests loud 
 Around my old tower raise their din ; — 
 What boots the shout 
 Of storms without, 
 While voices sweet lesound within ? 
 O ! dearer sound 
 For the tempest round. 
 The voices sweet within ! 
 
 I ask not wealth, I ask not power ; 
 
 But, gracious Heaven, oh, grant to me 
 That, when the storms of Fate may lower, 
 My heart just like my home may be ! 
 When in the gale 
 Poor Hope's white sail 
 No haven can for shelter win, 
 Fate's darkest skies 
 The heart defies 
 Whose stiil small voice is sweet within! 
 Oh heavenly sound! 
 'Mid the tempest round, 
 That voice so sweet within ! 
 
 Egan had entered as Fanny was singing the second verse ; he wore a 
 troubled air, which his wife, at first, did not remark. " Is not that a 
 sweet song, Edward ? " said she. " No one ought to like it more 
 than you, for your home is your happiness, and no one has a clearer 
 conscience." 
 
 Egan kissed her gently, thanked her for her good opinion — and asked 
 what she wished to say to him : they left the room. 
 
 Fanny remarked Egan's unusually troubled air, and it marred her 
 music : leaving the piano, and walking to the window, she saw Larry 
 Hogan walking from the house, down the avenue. 
 
HANDY ANDY. 12<J 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 If the morning brought uneasiness and distrust to Merryvale, it 
 dawned not more brightly on Neck-or-Nothing Hall. The discord of 
 the former night was not preparatory to a harmony on the morrow, and 
 the parties separating in ill-humour from the drawing-room, were not 
 likely to look forward with much pleasure to the breakfast-parlour. But 
 before breakfast, sleep was to intervene — that is, for those who could 
 get it, and the unfortunate Furlong was not amongst the number. 
 Despite the very best feather-bed Mrs. O'Grady had selected for him 
 from amongst her treasures, it was long before slumber weighed down 
 his feverish eye-lids ; and even then, it was only to have them opened 
 again in some convulsive start of a troubled dream. All his adventures 
 of the last four-and- twenty hours were jumbled together in strange con- 
 fusion: — now on a lonely road, while dreading the assaults of robbers, his 
 course was interrupted not by a highwayman, but a river, whereon em- 
 barking, he began to catch salmon in a most surprisingly rapid manner, 
 but just as he was about to haul in his fish, it escaped from the hook, 
 and the salmon, making wry faces at him, very impertinently exclaimed, 
 " Sure, you would'nt catch a poor ignorant Irish salmon 1 " — he then 
 snapped his pistols at the insolent fish, and then his carriage breaks 
 down, and he is suddenly transferred from the river to the road ; — thieves 
 seize upon him and bind his hands, but a charming young lady with 
 pearly teeth cuts his bonds, and conducts him to a castle where a party 
 are engaged in playing cards; — he is invited to join, and as his cards 
 are dealt to him, he anticipates triumph in the game, but by some mali- 
 cious fortune his trumps are transformed into things of no value, as 
 they touch the board ; — he loses his money, and is kicked out when hia 
 purse has been emptied, and he escapes along a dark road, pursued by 
 his spoilers, who would take his life, and a horrid cry of " broiled bones" 
 rings in his ears as he flies ; — he is seized and thrown into a river, 
 where, as he sinks, the salmon raise a chorus of rejoicing, and he wakes, 
 in the agonies of drowning, to find himself nearly suffocated by sinking 
 into the feathery depths of Mrs. O' Grady's pet bed. After a night 
 passed in such troubled visions, poor Furlong awoke unrefreshed, and, with 
 bitter recollections of the past and mournful anticipations of the future, 
 arose, and prepared to descend to the parlour, where a servant told him 
 breakfast was ready. 
 
 His morning greeting by the family was not of that hearty and cheer- 
 ful character which generally distinguishes the house of an Irish squire ; 
 for though O'Grady was not so savage as on the preceding evening, he 
 was rather gruff, and the ladies dreaded being agreeable when the 
 master's temper blew from a stormy point. Furlong could not help 
 
130 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 regretting at this moment the lively breakfast-table of Merryvale, nor 
 avoid contrasting to disadvantage the two Miss O'Gradys with Fanny 
 Dawson. Augusta, the eldest, inherited the prominent nose of her 
 father, and something of his upper lip, too, beard included ; and these, un- 
 fortunately, were all she was ever likely to inherit from him ; and Charlotte, 
 the younger, had the same traits in a moderated degree. Altogether, he 
 thought the girls the plainest he had ever seen, and the house more 
 horrible than anything that was ever imagined ; and he sighed a faint 
 fashionable sigh, to think his political duties had expelled him from a 
 paradise to send him 
 
 " The other way — the other way ! " 
 
 Four boys and a little girl sat at a side-table, where a capacious jug of 
 milk, large bowls, and a lusty loaf, were laid under contribution amidst 
 a suppressed but continuous wrangle, which was going forward amongst 
 the juniors ; and a snappish " I will," or " I won't," a " Let me alone," 
 or a " Behave yourself," occasionally was distinguishable above the mur- 
 mur of dissatisfaction. A little squall from the little girl at last made 
 O'Grady turn round and swear that if they did not behave themselves, 
 he'd turn them all out. 
 
 " It is all Goggy, sir," said the girl. 
 
 " No, it's not, you dirty little thing," cried George, whose name was 
 thus euphoniously abbreviated. 
 
 " He's putting " said the girl with excitement. 
 
 " Ah, you dirty little " interrupted Goggy, in a low contemp- 
 tuous tone. 
 
 " He's putting, sir," 
 
 " Whisht ! you young devils, will you ! " cried O'Grady, and a momen- 
 tary silence prevailed; but the little girl snivelled, and put up her bib* 
 to wipe her eyes, while Goggy put out his tongue at her. Many 
 minutes had not elapsed when the girl again whimpered : 
 
 " Call to Goggy, papa ; he's putting some mouse's tails into my 
 milk, sir." 
 
 " Ah, you dirty little tell-tale ! " cried Goggy reproachfully ; " a tell- 
 tale is worse than a mouse's-tail." 
 
 O'Grady jumped up, gave Master Goggy a box on the ear, and then 
 caught him by the aforesaid appendage to his head, and as he led him 
 to the door by the same, Goggy bellowed lustily, and when ejected from 
 the room howled down the passage more like a dog than a human 
 being. O'Grady, on resuming his seat, told Polshee j (the little girl) 
 she was always getting Goggy a beating, and she ivas a little cantan- 
 kerous cat and a dirty tell-tale, as Goggy said. Amongst the ladies 
 and Furlong the breakfast went forward with coldness and constraint, 
 and all were glad when it was nearly over. At this period, Mrs. O'Grady 
 half filled a large bowl from the tea-urn, and then added to it some 
 weak tea, and Miss O'Grady collected all the broken bread about the 
 table on a plate. Just then Furlong ventured to " twouble " Mrs. 
 O'Grady for a leetle more tea, and before he handed her his cup, he 
 
 * Pinafore. f Mary. 
 
HANDY ANDY. 131 
 
 would have emptied the sediment in the slop-basin, but by mistake he 
 popped it into the large bowl of miserable Mrs. O'Grady had prepared. 
 Furlong begged a thousand apologies, but Mrs. O'Grady assured him it 
 was of no consequence, as it was only for the tutor. 
 
 O'Grady, having swallowed his breakfast as fast as possible, left the 
 room ; the whole party soon followed, and on arriving in the drawing- 
 room, the young ladies became more agreeable when no longer under 
 the constraint of their ogre father. Furlong talked slip-slop common- 
 places with them ; they spoke of the country and the weather, and he 
 of the city ; they assured him that the dews were heavy in the evening, 
 and that the grass was so green in that part of the country ; he obliged 
 them with the interesting information that the Liffy ran through Dub- 
 lin, but that the two sides of the city communicated by means of bridges 
 — that the houses were built of red brick generally, and that the hall- 
 doors were painted in imitation of mahogany ; to which the young ladies 
 responded, " La, how odd !" and added, that in the country people mostly 
 painted their hall-doors green, to match the grass. Furlong admitted 
 the propriety of the proceeding, and said he liked uniformity. The 
 young ladies quite coincided in his opinion, declared they all were so 
 fond of uniformity ! and added, that one of their carriage horses was 
 blind. 
 
 Furlong admitted the excellence of the observation, and said, in a 
 very soft voice, that Love was blind also. 
 
 " Exactly," said Miss O'Grady, " and that's the reason we call our 
 horse ' Cupid ! ' " 
 
 " How clever! " replied Furlong. 
 
 " And the mare that goes in harness with him — she's an ugly creature, 
 to be sure — but we call her ' Venus.' " 
 " How dwoll ! " said Furlong. 
 " That's for uniformity," said Miss O'Grady. 
 " How good ! " was the rejoinder. 
 
 Mrs. O'Grady, who had left the room for a few minutes, now returned, 
 and told Furlong she would show him over the house, if he pleased. He 
 assented, of course, and under her guidance went through many apart- 
 ments : — those on the basement stoi'y were hurried through rapidly, but 
 when Mrs. O'Grady got him up stairs, amongst the bed-rooms, she 
 dwelt on the excellence of every apartment. " This I need not show 
 you, Mr. Furlong, — 'tis your own ; I hope you slept well last night." — 
 This was the twentieth time the question had been asked. " Now, here 
 is another, Mr. Furlong ; the window looks out on the lawn ; — so nice to 
 look out on a lawn, I think, in the morning, when one gets up ! — so 
 refreshing and wholesome ! Oh ! you are looking at the stain in the 
 ceiling, but we couldn't get the roof repaired in time before the winter 
 set in last year, and Mr. O'Grady thought we might as well have the 
 painters and slaters together in the summer — and the house does want 
 paint indeed — but we all hate the smell of paint. See here, Mister Fur- 
 long," and she turned up a quilt as she spoke, "just put your hand into 
 that bed ; did you ever feel a finer bed ? " 
 Furlong declared he never did. 
 
 "Oh, you don't know how to feel a bed ! — put your hand into it — well, 
 
 k 2 
 
132 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 that way ;" — and Mrs. O'Grady plunged her arm up to the elbow into 
 the object of her admiration. 
 
 Furlong poked the bed, and was all admiration. 
 
 " Isn't it beautiful? " 
 
 " Cha'ming ! " replied Furlong, trying to pick off the bits of down 
 which clung to his coat. 
 
 " Oh, never mind the down, — you shall be brushed after ; I always 
 show my beds, Mr. Furlong. Now, here's another; " — and so she went 
 on, dragging poor Furlong up and down the house, and he did not 
 get out of her clutches till he had poked all the beds in the establishment. 
 
 As soon as that ceremony was over, and that his coat had undergone 
 the process of brushing, he wished to take a stroll, and was going forth, 
 when Mrs. O'Grady interrupted him, with the assurance that it would 
 not be safe unless some one of the family became his escort, for the dogs 
 were so fierce — Mr. O'Grady was so fond of dogs, and so proud of a 
 particular breed of dogs he had, so remarkable for their courage, — he 
 had better wait till the boys had done their Latin lesson. So Furlong 
 was marched back to the drawing-room. 
 
 There the younger daughter addressed him with a message from her 
 grandmama, who wished to have the pleasure of making his acquaint- 
 ance, and hoped he would pay her a visit. Furlong, of course, was 
 " quite delighted" and " too happy," and the young lady, thereupon, 
 led him to the old lady's apartment. 
 
 The old dowager had been a beauty in her youth, and one of the 
 belles of the Irish court, and when she heard " a gentleman from Dublin 
 Castle " was in the house, she desired to see him. To see any one from 
 that seat of her juvenile joys and triumphs would have given her delight, 
 were it only the coachman that had driven a carriage to a levee or a 
 drawing-room ; she could ask him about the sentinels at the gate, the 
 entrance-porch, and if the long range of windows yet glittered with 
 lights on St. Patrick's night ; but to have a conversation with an official 
 from that seat of government and courtly pleasure, was, indeed, some- 
 thing to make her happy. 
 
 On Furlong being introduced, the old lady received him very cour- 
 teously, at the same time with a certain air that betokened she was 
 accustomed to deference. Her commanding figure was habited in a 
 loose morning wrapper, made of grey flannel ; but while this gave 
 evidence she studied her personal comfort rather than appearance, a bit 
 of pretty silk handkerchief about the neck, very knowingly displayed, 
 and a becoming ribbon in her cap, showed she did not quite neglect her 
 good looks ; it did not require a very quick eye to see, besides, a small 
 touch of rouge on the cheek which age had depressed, and the assistance 
 of Indian ink to the eye-brow which time had thinned and faded. A 
 glass filled with flowers stood on the table before her, and a quantity of 
 books lay scattered about ; a guitar — not the Spanish instrument now in 
 fashion, but the English one of some eighty years ago, strung with wire 
 and tuned in thirds — hung, by a blue ribbon, beside her ; a corner-cup- 
 board, fantastically carved, bore some curious specimens of China, on 
 one side of the room ; while, in strange discord with what was really 
 scarce and beautiful, the commonest Dutch cuckoo-clock was suspended 
 
HANDY ANDY. 133 
 
 on the opposite wall ; close beside her chair stood a very pretty little Japan 
 table, bearing a looking-glass with numerous drawers, framed in the same 
 material ; and while Furlong seated himself, the old lady cast a sidelong 
 glance at the mirror, and her withered fingers played with the fresh ribbon. 
 
 " You have recently arrived from the Castle, sir, I understand." 
 
 " Quite we-cently, madam, — awived last night." 
 
 " I hope his Excellency is well — not that I have the honour of his 
 acquaintance, but I love the Lord Lieutenant — and the aides-de-camps 
 are so nice, and the little pages ! — put a marker in that book," said she, 
 in an under tone, to her granddaughter, " page seventy-four ; — ah," 
 she resumed in a higher tone, " that reminds me of the Honourable 
 Captain Wriggle, who commanded a seventy-four, and danced with me 
 at the Castle the evening Lady Legge sprained her ankle. — By the bye, 
 are there any seventy-fours in Dublin now? " 
 
 " I wather think," said Furlong, " the bay is not sufficiently deep for 
 line-of-battle ships." 
 
 " Oh dear, yes! I have seen quantities of seventy-fours there — though, 
 indeed, I am not quite sure if it wasn't at Splithead. Give me the smell- 
 ing salts, Charlotte, love ; mine does ache indeed ! How subject the dear 
 duchess of Rutland was to headaches ; you did not know the duchess 
 of Rutland ? — no, to be sure, what am I thinking of — you're too young ; 
 but those were the charming days ! You have heard, of course, the 
 
 duchess's bon mot in reply to the compliment of Lord , but I must 
 
 not mention his name, because there was some scandal about them; but 
 the gentleman said to the duchess — I must tell you she was Isabella, 
 duchess of Rutland — and he said, ' Isabelle is a belle,' to which the 
 duchess replied, ' Isabelle was a belle.' " 
 
 " Vewy neat, indeed ! " said Furlong. 
 
 "Ah ! poor thing," said the dowager, with a sigh, " she was begin- 
 ning to be a little passee, then ; " — she looked in the glass herself, and 
 added, — " Dear me, how pale I am this morning!" and pulling out one 
 of the little drawers from the Japan looking-glass, she took out a pot of 
 rouge and heightened the colour on her cheek. The old lady not only 
 heightened her own colour, but that of the witnesses — of Furlong, par- 
 ticularly, who was quite surprised. " Why am I so very pale this 
 morning, Charlotte, love ? " continued the old lady. 
 
 " You sit up so late reading, grandmama." 
 
 " Ah, who can resist the fascination of the muses ? You are fond oi 
 literature, I hope, sir ? " 
 
 "Extwemely," replied Furlong. 
 
 " As a statesman," continued the old lady, — to whom Furlong made a 
 deep obeisance, at the word ' statesman,' — " as a statesman, of course 
 your reading lies in the more solid department ; but if you ever do con- 
 descend to read a romance, there is the sweetest thing I ever met, I am 
 just now engaged in ; — it is called ' The Blue Robber of the Pink 
 Mountain.' I have not come to the pink mountain yet, but the blue 
 robber is the most perfect character. The. author, however, is guilty of 
 a strange forge tfulness — he begins by speaking of the robber as of the 
 middle age, and soon after describes him as a young man. Now, how 
 could a young man be of the middle age ? 
 
134 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 " It seems a stwange inaccuwaey," lisped Furlong. " But poets 
 sometimes pwesume on the pwivelege they have of doing what they 
 please with their hewoes." 
 
 " Quite true, sir. And talking of heroes, I hope the knights of St. 
 Patrick are well — I do admire them so much ! — 'tis so interesting to see 
 their banners and helmets hanging up in St. Patrick's Cathedral, that 
 venerable pile ! — with the loud peal of the organ — sublime — is'nt it 1 — 
 the banners almost tremble in the vibration of the air to the loud swell 
 of the — ' A-a-a-men ! ' — the very banners seem to wave ' Amen.' Oh, 
 that swell is so fine! — I think they are fond of swells in the quire ; they 
 have a good effect, and some of the young men are so good-looking ! — 
 and the little boys, too — I suppose they are the choristers' children?" 
 
 The old lady made a halt, and Furlong filled up the pause by declar- 
 ing, " he weally couldn't say." 
 
 " I hope you admire the service at St. Patrick's," continued the old 
 lady. 
 
 " Ye-s — I think St. Paytwick's a vewy amusing place of wo'ship." 
 
 " Amusing ! " said the old lady, half-offended. " Inspiring, you mean ; 
 not that I think the sermon interesting, but the anthem! — oh! the 
 anthem, it is so fine! — and the old banners, those are my delight — the 
 dear banners, covered with dust ! " 
 
 " Oh, as far as that goes," said Furlong, " they have impwoved the 
 cathedwal vewy much, for they have whitewashed it inside, and put up 
 1100 banners." 
 
 " Whitewash and new banners ! " exclaimed the indignant dowager, 
 " the Goths ! to remove an atom of the romantic dust ! I would not 
 have let a housemaid into the place for the world ! But they have left 
 the anthem, I hope ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes ! the anthem is continued, but with a small diffewence ; — 
 they used to sing the anthem befo' the se'mon, but the people used to 
 go away after the anthem, and neve' waited for the se'mon, and the 
 Bishop, who is pwoud of his pweaching, orde'ed the anthem to be post- 
 poned till afte' the se'mon." 
 
 " Oh, yes," said the old lady, " T remember now hearing of that, and 
 some of the wags in Dublin saying the Bishop was jealous of old Spray,* 
 and didn't somebody write something called ' Pulpit versus Organloft? ' " 
 
 " I cawnt say." 
 
 " Well, I am glad you like the cathedral, sir ; but I wish they had 
 not dusted the banners ; I used to look at them all the time the service 
 went on — they were so romantic! I suppose you go there every 
 Sunday ? " 
 
 " I go in the summe', " said Furlong, " the place is so cold in the 
 winter." 
 
 " That's true, indeed," responded the Dowager, " and it's quite funny, 
 when your teeth are chattering with cold, to hear Spray singing, ' Com- 
 fort ye, my people ; ' but, to be sure, that almost is enough to warm 
 you. You are fond of music, I perceive ? " 
 
 " Vewy." 
 
 * The first tenor of the last century 
 
HANDY ANDY. 135 
 
 " / play the guitar — citra — cithra, or lute, as it is called by the 
 poets. I sometimes sing, too. Do you know ' The lass with the deli- 
 cate air ? ' a sweet ballad of the old school — my instrument once be- 
 longed to Dolly Bland, the celebrated Mrs. Jordan now — ah, there, sir, 
 is a brilliant specimen of Irish mirthfulness — what a creature she is ! 
 Hand me my lute, child," she said to her granddaughter, and having 
 adjusted the blue ribbon over her shoulder, and twisted the tuning-pegs, 
 and thrummed upon the wires for some time, she made a prelude, 
 and cleared her throat to sing "The lass with the delicate air," when 
 the loud whirring of the clock- wheels interrupted her, and she looked 
 up with great delight at a little door in the top of the clock, which sud- 
 denly sprang open, and out popped a wooden bird. 
 
 " Listen to my bird, sir," said the old lady. 
 
 The sound of " cuckoo " was repeated twelve times, the bird popped 
 in again, the little door closed, and the monotonous tick of the clock 
 continued. 
 
 " That's my little bird, sir, that tells me secrets ; and now, sir, you 
 must leave me ; I never receive visits after twelve. I can't sing you 
 ' The lass with the delicate air' to-day, for who would compete with the 
 feathered songsters of the grove ? and after my sweet warblers there I 
 dare not venture ; but I will sing it for you to-morrow. Good morning, 
 sir. I am happy to have had the honour of making your acquaintance." 
 She bowed Furlong out very politely, and as her granddaughter was fol- 
 lowing, she said, " My love, you must not forget some seeds for my 
 little bird." Furlong looked rather surprised, for he saw no bird but 
 the one in the clock; the young lady marked his expression, and as she 
 closed the door, she said, " You must not mind grandmama, you know ; 
 she is sometimes a little queer." 
 
 Furlong was now handed over to the boys, to show him over the 
 domain ; and they, young imps as they were, knowing he was in no 
 favour with their father, felt they might treat him as ill as they pleased, 
 and quiz him with impunity. The first portion of Furlong's penance 
 consisted in being dragged through dirty stable-yards and out-houses, 
 and shown the various pets of all the parties ; dogs, pigeons, rabbits, 
 weasels, &c. were paraded, and their qualities expatiated upon, till Fur- 
 long was quite weary of them, and expressed a desire to see the domain. 
 Horatio, the second boy, whose name was abbreviated to Ratty, told him 
 they must wait for Gusty, who was mending his spear. " We're going 
 to spear for eels," said the boy ; " did you ever spear for eels ? " 
 
 " I should think not," said Furlong, with a knowing smile, who sus- 
 pected this was intended to be a second edition of quizzing a la mode 
 de saumon. 
 
 " You think I am joking," said the boy, "but it's famous sport, I can 
 tell you ; but if you're tired of waiting here, come along with me to the 
 milliner's, and we can wait for Gusty there." 
 
 While following the boy, who jumped along to the tune of a jig he 
 was whistling, now and then changing the whistle into a song to the 
 same tune, with very odd words indeed, and a burden of gibberish 
 ending with " riddle-diddle-dow," Furlong wondered what a milliner 
 could have to do in such an establishment, and his wonder was not 
 
136 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 lessened when his guide added, " The milliner is a queer chap, and 
 maybe he'll tell us something funny." 
 
 " Then the milline' is a man ? " said Furlong. 
 
 " Yes," said the boy, laughing, " and he does not work with needle 
 and thread, either." 
 
 They approached a small out-house as he spoke, and the sharp clink- 
 ing of a hammer fell on their ears. Shoving open a ricket} 7 door, the 
 boy cried, " Well, Fogy, I've brought a gentleman to see you. This is 
 Fogy, the milliner, sir," said he to Furlong, whose surprise was further 
 increased, when, in the person of the man called the milliner, he beheld 
 a tinker. " What a strange pack of people I have got amongst," thought 
 Furlong. 
 
 The old tinker saw his surprise, and grinned at him. " I suppose it 
 was a nate young woman you thought you'd see when he towld you he'd 
 bring you to the milliner — ha! ha! ha! Oh, they're nate lads, the 
 Masther O'Gradys ; divil a thing they call by the proper name, at all." 
 
 " Yes, we do," said the boy, sharply, " we call ourselves by our pro- 
 per name — ha, Fogy, I have you there ! " 
 
 " Divil a taste, as smart as you think yourself, Masther Ratty ; 
 you call yourselves gentlemen, and that's not your proper name." 
 
 Ratty, who was scraping triangles on the door with a bit of broken 
 brick, at once converted his pencil into a missile, and let fly at the 
 head of the tinker, who seemed quite prepared for such a result, for, 
 raising the kettle he was mending, he caught the shot adroitly, and the 
 brick rattled harmlessly on the tin. 
 
 " Ha ! " said the tinker, mockingly, " you missed me, like your 
 mammy's blessin' ;" and he pursued his work. 
 
 " What a very odd name he calls you," said Furlong, addressing 
 young O'Grady. 
 
 " Ratty," said the boy. " Oh, yes, they call me Ratty, short for 
 Horatio. I was called Horatio after Lord Nelson, because Lord Nel- 
 son's father was a clergyman, and papa intends me for the Church." 
 
 " And a nate clargy you'll make," said the tinker. 
 
 " And why do they call you milline' ? " inquired Furlong. 
 
 The old man looked up and grinned, but said nothing. 
 
 " You'll know before long, I'll engage," said Ratty, — " won't he, 
 Fogy ? You were with old Gran' to-day, wern't you ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Did she sing you ' The lass with the delicate air ? " said the boy, 
 putting himself in the attitude of a person playing the guitar, throwing 
 up his eyes, and mimicking the voice of an old woman, — 
 
 " So they call'd her, they call'd her, 
 The lass — the lass 
 
 With a delicate air, 
 De — lick-it — lick-it — lick-it, 
 The lass with a de — lick-it air ! " 
 
 The young rascal made frightful mouths, and put out his tongue every 
 time he said "lick it," and when he had finished, asked Furlong, 
 " wasn't that the thing ? " Furlong told him his grandmama had been 
 going to sing it, but his pleasure had been deferred till to-morrow. 
 
HANDY ANDY. 137 
 
 " Then you did not hear it ? " said Ratty. 
 
 Furlong answered in the negative. 
 
 " Oh, murder ! murder ! I'm sorry I told you," said the boy. 
 
 " Is it so vewy pa'ticula' then ? " inquired Furlong. 
 
 " Oh, you'll find that out, and more, if you live long enough," was 
 the answer. Then turning to the tinker, he said, " Have you any milli- 
 ner work in hand, Fogy ? " 
 
 "To be sure I have," answered the tinker; "who has so good a 
 right to know that as yourself? — throth, you've little to do, I'm thinkin', 
 when you ax that idle question. — Oh, you're nate lads ! And would 
 nothin' sarve you but brakin' the weather-cock? " 
 
 " Oh, 'twas such a nice cock-shot, 'twas impossible not to have a shy 
 at it," said Ratty, chuckling. 
 
 " Oh, you're nice lads ! " still chimed in the tinker. 
 
 " Besides," said Ratty, " Gusty bet me a bull-dog pup against a 
 rabbit, I could not smash it in three goes." 
 
 " Faix, an' he ought to know you betther than that," said the tinker ; 
 "for you'd make a fair offer* at anything, I think, but an answer to 
 your schoolmasther. Oh, a nate lad you are — a nate lad ! — a nice clargy 
 you'll be, your rivirince. Oh, if you hit off the tin commandments as 
 fast as you hit off the tin weathercock, it's a good man you'll be — an' if 
 I never had a head-ache 'till then, sure it's happy I'd be ! " 
 
 " Hold your prate, old Growly," said Ratty ; " and why don't you 
 mend the weather-cock ? " 
 
 " I must mend the kittle first, — and a purtty kittle you made of it ! — 
 and would nothing sarve you but the best kittle in the house to tie to 
 the dog's tail ? Ah, masther Ratty, you're terrible boys, so yiz are ! " 
 
 " Hold your prate, you old thief! — why would'nt we amuse ourselves ?" 
 
 " And huntin' the poor dog, too." 
 
 " Well, what matter? — he was a strange dog." 
 
 " That makes no differ in the crulety." 
 
 " Ah, bother ! you old humbug ! — who was it blackened the rag- 
 woman's eye ? — ha ! Fogy — ha ! Fogy — dirty Fogy ! " 
 
 " Go away, Masther Ratty, you're too good, so you are, your Rivir- 
 ince. Faix, I wondher his honour, the Squire, doesn't murther you 
 sometimes." 
 
 " He would, if he could catch us," replied Ratty, " but we run too 
 fast for him, so divil thank him ! — and you, too, Fogy — ha ! old Growly ! 
 Come along, Mr. Furlong, here's Gusty; — bad scran to you, Fogy!" and 
 he slapped the door as he quitted the tinker. 
 
 Gustavus, followed by two younger brothers, Theodore and Godfrey, 
 (for O'Grady loved high-sounding names in baptism, though they got 
 twisted into such queer shapes in family use,) now led the way over the 
 park towards the river. Some fine timber they passed occasionally, but the 
 axe had manifestly been busy, and the wood seemed thinned rather from 
 necessity than for improvement ; the paths were choked with weeds and 
 fallen leaves, and the rank moss added its evidence of neglect. The 
 boys pointed out anything they thought worthy of observation, by the 
 
 * A " fair offer," is a phrase amongst the Irish peasantry, meaning a successful aim. 
 
138 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 way, such as the best places to find a hare, the most covered approach 
 to the river to get a shot at wild ducks, or where the best young wood 
 was to be found from whence to cut a stick. On reaching their point 
 of destination, which was where the river was less rapid, and its banks 
 sedgy and thickly grown with flaggers and bullrushes, the sport of spear- 
 ing for eels commenced. Gusty first undertook the task, and after 
 some vigorous plunges of his implement into the water, he brought up 
 the prey wriggling between its barbed prongs. Furlong was amazed, 
 for he thought this, like the salmon fishing, was intended as a quiz, and 
 after a few more examples of Gusty's prowess, he undertook the sport ; 
 a short time however fatigued his unpractised arm, and he relinquished 
 the spear to Theodore or Tay, as they called him, and Tay shortly 
 brought up his fish, and thus, one after another, the boys, successful in 
 their sport, soon made the basket heavy. 
 
 Then, and not till then, they desired Furlong to carry it ; he declared 
 he had no curiosity whatever in that line, but the boys would not let 
 him off so easy, and told him the practice there was, that every one 
 should take his share in the day's sport, and as he could not catch the 
 fish, he should carry it. He attempted a parley, and suggested he was 
 only a visitor, but they only laughed at him, — said that might be a very 
 good Dublin joke, but it would not pass in the country. He then 
 attempted laughingly to decline the honour, but Ratty, turning round 
 to a monstrous dog, which hitherto had followed them quietly, said, 
 "Here! Bloody-bones; here! boy! at him, sir! — make him do his 
 work, boy!" The bristling savage gave a low growl, audfixed his fierce 
 eyes on Furlong, who attempted to remonstrate, but he very soon gave 
 that up, for another word from the boys urged the dog to a howl and a 
 crouch, preparatory to a spring, and Furlong made no further resistance, 
 but took up the basket amid the uproarious laughter of the boys, who 
 continued their sport, adding every now and then to the weight of Fur- 
 long's load, and whenever he lagged behind, they cried out, " Come along, 
 man- Jack ! " which was the complimentary name they called him by for 
 the rest of the day. Furlong thought spearing for eels worse sport than 
 fishing for salmon, and was rejoiced when a turn homeward was taken 
 by the party ; but his annoyances were not yet ended. On their return, 
 their route lay across a plank of considerable length, which spanned a 
 small branch of the river ; it had no central support, and consequently 
 sprang considerably to the foot of the passenger, who was afforded no pro- 
 tection from handrail or even a swinging rope, and this rendered its passage 
 difficult to an unpractised person. When Furlong was told to make his way 
 across, he hesitated, and after many assurances on his part that he could 
 not attempt it, Gusty said he would lead him over in security, and took 
 his hand for the purpose ; but when he had him just in the centre, he 
 loosed himself from Furlong's hold, and ran to the opposite side. While 
 Furlong was praying him to return, Ratty stole behind him sufficiently 
 far to have purchase enough on the plank, and began jumping till he 
 made it spring too high for poor Furlong to hold his footing any longer ; 
 so squatting on the plank, he got astride upon it, and held on with his 
 hands, every descending vibration of the board dipping his dandy boots 
 in the water. 
 
HANDY ANDY. 139 
 
 " Well done, Ratty ! " shouted all the boys. 
 
 " Splash him, Tay ! " cried Gusty. " Pull away, Goggy." 
 
 The three boys now began pelting large stones into the river close 
 beside Furlong, splashing him so thoroughly, that he was wringing wet 
 in five minutes. In vain Furlong shouted, " Young gentlemen ! young 
 gentlemen ! " and, at last, when he threatened to complain to their 
 father, they recommenced worse than before, and vowed they'd throw 
 him into the stream if he did not promise to be silent on the subject, 
 for, to use their own words, if they were to be beaten, they might as well 
 duck him at once, and have the " worth of their licking." At last, a 
 compromise being effected, Furlong stood up to walk off the plank. 
 " Remember," said Ratty, " you won't tell we hoised you." 
 
 " I won't, indeed," said Furlong ; and he got safe to land. 
 
 " But I will ! " cried a voice from the neighbouring wood ; and Miss 
 O'Grady appeared, surrounded by a crowd of little pet-dogs. She shook 
 her hand in a threatening manner at the offenders, and all the little 
 dogs set up a yelping bark, as if to enforce their mistress's anger. 
 
 The snappish barking of the pets was returned by one hoarse bay 
 from Bloody-bones, which silenced the little dogs, as a broadside from a 
 seventy-four would scatter a flock of privateers, and the boys returned 
 the sister's threat by a universal shout of " Tell-tale ! " 
 
 " Go home, tell-tale ! " they cried, all at once ; and with an action 
 equally simultaneous, they stooped one and all for pebbles, and pelted 
 Miss Augusta so vigorously, that she and her dogs were obliged to run 
 for it. 
 
140 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 Having recounted Furlong's out-door adventures, it is necessary to say 
 something of what was passing at Neck-or-Nothing-Hall in his absence. 
 
 O'Grady, on leaving the breakfast-table, retired to his justice-room to 
 transact business, a principal feature in which was the examination of 
 Handy Andy touching the occurrences of the evening he drove Furlong 
 to Merryvale ; for though Andy was clear of the charge for which he 
 had been taken into custody, namely, the murder of Furlong, O'Grady 
 thought he might have been aparty to some conspiracy to drive the stranger 
 to the enemy's camp, and therefore put him to the question very sharply. 
 This examination he had set his heart upon ; and reserving it as a bon 
 bouche, dismissed all preliminary cases in a very off-hand manner, just 
 as men carelessly swallow a few oysters preparatory to dinner. 
 
 As for Andy, when he was summoned to the justice-room, he made 
 sure it was for the purpose of being charged with robbing the post-office, 
 and cast a side-long glance at the effigy of the man hanging on the wall, as 
 he was marched up to the desk where O'Grady sat in magisterial dignity; 
 and, therefore, when he found it was only for driving a gentleman to a 
 wrong house all the pother was made, his heart was lightened of a heavy 
 load, and he answered briskly enough. The string of question and 
 reply was certainly an entangled one, and left O'Grady as much puzzled 
 as before, whether Andy was stupid and innocent, or too knowing to let 
 himself be caught, — and to this opinion he clung at last. In the course 
 of the inquiry he found Andy had been in service at Merryvale ; and 
 Andy, telling him he knew all about waiting at table, and so forth, and 
 O'Grady being in want of an additional man-servant in the house, while 
 his honourable guest Sackville Scatterbrain should be on a visit with 
 him, Andy was told he should be taken on trial for a month. Indeed, 
 a month was as long as most servants could stay in the house — they 
 came and went as fast as figures in a magic lanthorn. 
 
 Andy was installed in his new place, and set to work immediately 
 scrubbing up extras of all sorts to make the reception of the honourable 
 candidate for the county as brilliant as possible, not only for the honour 
 of the house, but to make a favourable impression on the coming guest ; 
 for Augusta, the eldest girl, was marriageable, and, to her father's ears, 
 " The Honourable Mrs. Sackville Scatterbrain" would have sounded 
 much more agreeably than " Miss O'Grady." 
 
 " Well — who knows ?" said O'Grady to his wife ; " such things have 
 come to pass. Furbish her up, and make her look smart at dinner — he 
 
HANDY ANDY. 141 
 
 has a good fortune, and will be a peer one of these days — worth catch- 
 ing. Tell her so." 
 
 Leaving; these laconic observations and directions behind him, he set 
 off to the neighbouring town to meet Scatterbrain, and to make a blow- 
 up at the post-office about the missing letters ; this he was the more 
 anxious to do, as the post-office was kept by the brother of M 'Garry, the 
 apothecary ; and since O'Grady had been made to pay so dearly for 
 thrashing him, he swore eternal vengeance against the whole family. 
 The post-master could give no satisfactory answer to the charge made 
 against him, and O'Grady threatened a complaint to head-quarters, and 
 prophesied the post-master's dismissal. Satisfied, for the present, with 
 this piece of prospective vengeance, he proceeded to the inn, and awaited 
 the arrival of his guest. 
 
 In the interim, at the hall, Mrs. O'Grady gave Augusta the necessary 
 hints, and recommended a short walk to improve her colour ; and it 
 was in the execution of this order that Miss O'Grady's perambulation 
 was cut short by the pelting her sweet brothers gave her. 
 
 The internal bustle of the establishment caught the attention of the 
 dowager, who contrived to become acquainted with its cause, and set 
 about making herself as fascinating as possible; for though, in the or- 
 dinary routine of the family affairs, she kept herself generally secluded 
 in her own apartments, whenever any affair of an interesting nature was 
 pending, nothing could make her refrain from joining any company 
 which might be in the house ; — nothing ; — not even O'Grady himself. At 
 such times, too, she became strangely excited, and invariably executed 
 one piece of farcical absurdity, of which, however, the family contrived 
 to confine the exercise to her own room. It was wearing on her head 
 a tin concern, something like a chimney-pot, ornamented by a small 
 weathercock, after the fashion of those which surmounted church-steeples ; 
 this, she declared, influenced her health wonderfully, by indicating the 
 variation of the wind in her stomach, which she maintained to be the 
 grand ruling principle of human existence. She would have worn this 
 head-dress in any company, had she been permitted, but the terrors of 
 her son had sufficient influence over her to have this laid aside for a more 
 seemly coiffure when she appeared at dinner, or in the drawing-room ; 
 but while she yielded really through fear, she affected to be influenced 
 through tenderness to her son's infirmity of temper. 
 
 It is very absurd," she would say, " that Gustavus should interfere 
 with my toilette ; but, poor fellow, he's very queer, you know, and I 
 humour him." 
 
 This at once explains why Master Ratty called the tinker " the 
 milliner." 
 
 It will not be wondered at, that the family carefully excluded the old 
 lady from the knowledge of any exciting subject ; but those who know 
 what a talkative race children and servants are, will not be surprised that 
 the dowager sometimes got scent of proceedings which were meant to be 
 kept secret. The pending election, and the approaching visit of the 
 candidate, some how or other, came to her knowledge, and of course she 
 put on her tin chimney-pot. Thus attired, she sat watching the avenue 
 ali day ; and when she saw O'Grady return in a handsome travelling 
 
142 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 carriage with a stranger, she was quite happy, and began to attire herself 
 in some ancient finery, rather the worse for wear, and which might have 
 been interesting to an antiquary. 
 
 The house soon rang with bustle — bells rang, and footsteps rapidly 
 paced passages, and pattered up and down stairs. Andy was the nimblest 
 at the hall-door at the first summons of the bell ; and, in a livery too short 
 in the arms and two wide in the shoulders, he bustled here and there, 
 his anxiety to be useful only putting him in every body's way, and end- 
 ing in getting him a hearty cursing from O'Grady. 
 
 The carriage was unpacked, and letter-boxes, parcels, and portman- 
 teaus, strewed the hall. Andy was desired to carry the latter to " the 
 gentleman's room ;" and, throwing it over his shoulder, he ran up stairs. 
 
 It was just after the commotion created by the arrival of the Honourable 
 Mr. Scatterbrain, that Furlong returned to the house, wet and weary. 
 
 He retired to his room to change his clothes, and fancied he was now 
 safe from further molestation, with an inward protestation that the next 
 time the Master O'Gradys caught him in their company they might 
 bless themselves ; when he heard a loud sound of hustling near his door, 
 and Miss Augusta's voice audibly exclaiming, " Behave yourself, Ratty! 
 — Gusty, let me go !" — when, as the words were uttered, the door of his 
 room was shoved open, and Miss Augusta thrust in, and the door locked 
 outside. 
 
 Furlong had not half his clothes on. Augusta exclaimed, " Gracious 
 me !" — first put up her hands to her eyes, and then turned her face to 
 the door. 
 
 Furlong hid himself in the bed-curtains, while Ratty, the vicious little 
 rascal, with a malicious laugh, said, " Now, promise you'll not tell papa, 
 or I'll bring him up here — and then how will you be ?" 
 
 " Ratty, you wretch!" cried Augusta, kicking at the door, "let me out!" 
 
 " Not a bit, till you promise." 
 
 " Oh, fie, Maste' O'Gwady !" said Furlong. 
 
 " I'll scream, Ratty, if you don't let me out!" cried Augusta. 
 
 " If you screech, papa will hear you, and then he'll come up, and kill 
 that fellow there." 
 
 " Oh, don't squeam, Miss O'Gwady !" said Furlong, very vivaciously, 
 from the bed-curtains ; " Don't squeam, pway !" 
 
 " I'm not squeamish, sir," said Miss Augusta ; " but it's dreadful to 
 be shut up with a man who has no clothes on him. Let me out, Ratty ! 
 let me out !" 
 
 " Well, will you tell on us ?" 
 
 " No." 
 
 " Ton your honour." 
 
 " 'Pon my honour, no ! — Make haste ! — Oh, if papa knew of this !" 
 
 Scarcely had the words been uttered, when the heavy tramp and gruff 
 voice of O'Grady resounded in the passage, and the boys scampered off 
 in a fright, leaving the door locked. 
 
 " Oh, what will become of me !" said the poor girl, with the extremity 
 of terror in her look — a terror so excessive, that she was quite heedless 
 of the dishabille of Furlong, who jumped from the curtains when he 
 heard O'Grady coming. 
 
HANDY ANDY. 143 
 
 " Don't be fwightened, Miss O'Grady," said Furlong, half frightened 
 to death himself. " When we explain the affair " 
 
 " Explain !" said the girl, gasping. " Oh, you don't know papa !" 
 
 As she spoke, the heavy tramp ceased at the door — a sharp tap suc- 
 ceeded, and Furlong's name was called in the gruff voice of the squire. 
 
 Furlong could scarcely articulate a response. 
 
 " Let me in," said O'Grady. 
 
 " I'm not dwess'd, sir," answered Furlong. 
 
 " No matter," said the squire ; " you're not a woman." 
 
 Augusta wrung her hands. 
 
 " I'll be down with you as soon as I'm dress'd, sir," replied Furlong. 
 
 " I want to speak to you immediately — and here are letters for you — 
 open the door." 
 
 Augusta signified by signs, to Furlong, that resistance would be vain ; 
 and hid herself under the bed. 
 
 " Come in, sir," said Furlong, when she was secreted. 
 
 " The door is fastened," said O'Grady. 
 
 " Turn the key, sir," said Furlong. 
 
 O'Grady unlocked the door, and was so inconsequent a person, that 
 he never thought of the impossibility of Furlong's having locked it, but, 
 in the richest spirit of bulls, asked him if he always fastened his door on 
 the outside. 
 
 Furlong said he always did. 
 
 " What's the matter with you ?" inquired O'Grady. " You're as white 
 as the sheet there." And he pointed to the bed as he spoke. 
 
 Furlong grew whiter as he pointed to that quarter. 
 
 " What ails you, man ? — Ar'n't you well ?" 
 
 " Wather fatigued — but I'll be bette' pwcfeently. W T hat do you wish 
 with me, sir ? " 
 
 " Here are letters for you — I want to know what's in them — Scatter- 
 brain's come — do you know that ?" 
 
 " No— I did not." 
 
 " Don't stand there in the cold — go on dressing yourself ; I'll sit down 
 here till you can open your letters : I want to tell you something be- 
 sides." O'Grady took a chair as he spoke. 
 
 Furlong assumed all the composure he could, and the girl began to 
 hope she should remain undiscovered, and most likely she would have 
 been so lucky, had not the Genius of Disaster, with aspect malign, waved 
 her sable wand and called her chosen servant Handy Andy to her aid. 
 He, her faithful and unfailing minister, obeyed the call, and at that cri- 
 tical juncture of time gave a loud knock at the chamber door. 
 
 " Come in," said O'Grady. 
 
 Andy opened the door and popped in his head. — " I beg your pardon, 
 sir, but I kem for the jintleman's portmantle." 
 
 " What gentleman ? " asked O'Grady. 
 
 " The Honourable, sir ; I tuk his portmantle to the wrong room, sir, 
 and I'm come for it now bekase he wants it." 
 
 " There's no po'tmanteau here," said Furlong. 
 
 " O yis, sir," said Andy ; " I put it undher the bed." 
 
 " Well, take it and be off," said O'Grady. 
 
144 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 " No — no — no — " said Furlong, " don't distu'b my woom, if you 
 please, till I have done dwessing." 
 
 " But the Honourable is dhressing too, sir; and that's why he wants 
 the portrnantle." 
 
 " Take it, then," said the Squire. 
 
 Furlong was paralyzed, and could offer no further resistance : Andy 
 stooped, and lifting the valance of the bed to withdraw the portmanteau, 
 dropped it suddenly and exclaimed, " O Lord !" 
 
 " What's the matter ?" said the Squire. 
 
 " Nothin', sir," said Andy, looking scared. 
 
 " Then take the portmanteau and be hanged to you." • 
 
 " Oh, I'll wait till the jintleman's done, sir," said Andy, retiring. 
 
 " What the devil is all this about?" said the Squire, seeing the be- 
 wilderment of Eurlong and Andy ; " what is it, at all ?" and he stooped 
 as he spoke and lifted the valance. But here description must end, and 
 imagination supply the scene of fury and confusion which succeeded. 
 At the first fierce volley of imprecation O'Grady gave vent to, Andy ran 
 off and alarmed the family, Augusta screamed, and Furlong held for 
 support by the bed post, while, between every hurricane of oaths, O'Grady 
 ran to the door and shouted for his pistols, and anon returned to the 
 chamber to vent every abusive epithet which could be showered on man 
 and woman. The prodigious uproar soon brought the whole house to the 
 spot ; Mrs. O'Grady and the two spare girls amongst the first ; Mat, and 
 the cook, and the scullion, and all the housemaids in rapid succession ; 
 and Scatterbrain himself at last ; O'Grady all the time foaming at the 
 mouth, stamping up and down the room, shaking his fist at Furlong, and, 
 after a volley of names impossible to remember or print, always con- 
 cluding with the phrase, "Wait till I get my pistols!" 
 
 " Gusty, dear," said his trembling wife, " what is it all about?" 
 
 He glared upon her with his flashing eyes, and said, " Fine education 
 you give your children, ma'am. Where have you brought up your 
 daughters to go to, eh ? " 
 
 " To church, my dear," said Mrs. O'Grady, meekly ; for she being a 
 Roman catholic, O'Grady was very jealous of his daughters being reared 
 staunch Protestants, and she, poor simple woman, thought that was the 
 drift of his question. 
 
 " Church, my eye ! woman ! — Church, indeed ! — 'faith, she ought to 
 have gone there before she came where I found her. Thunderanouns ! 
 where are my pistols ? " 
 
 " Where has she gone to, my love ? " asked the wife in a tremor. 
 
 " To the divil, ma'am. — Is that all you know about it?" said 
 O'Grady ; "And you'd wish to know where she is ? " 
 
 " Yes, love," said his wife. 
 
 " Then look under that bed, ma'am, and you'll see her without 
 spectacles." 
 
 Mrs. O'Grady now gave a scream, and the girls and the housemaids 
 joined in the chorus. Augusta bellowed from under the bed, " Mama ! 
 mama ! indeed it's all Ratty — I never did it." 
 
 At this moment, to help the confusion, a fresh appearance made its 
 way into the room ; it was that of the Dowager O'Grady — arrayed in 
 
HANDY ANDY. 145 
 
 all the by-gone finery of faded full dress, and the tin chimney-pot on her 
 head. 
 
 "What is all this about?" she exclaimed, with an air of authority; 
 " though my weathercock tells me the wind is Nor' west, I did not expect 
 such a storm. Is any one killed ? " 
 
 " No," said O'Grady, " but somebody will be soon, Where are my 
 pistols ? Blood and fire, will nobody bring me pistols ? " 
 
 " Here they are, sir," said Handy Andy, running in. 
 
 O'Grady made a rush for the pistols, but his mother and his wife 
 threw themselves before him, and Scatterbrain shoved Andy outside the 
 room. 
 
 " Confound you, you numscull, would you give pistols into the hands 
 of a frantic man ?" 
 
 " Sure, he ax'd for them, sir ! " 
 
 " Go out o' this, you blockhead ! go and hide them somewhere, where 
 your master won't find them." 
 
 Andy retired, muttering something about the hardness of a servant's 
 case in being scolded and called names for doing his master's bidding. 
 Scatterbrain returned to the room where the confusion was still in full 
 bloom ; O'Grady swearing between his mother and wife, while Furlong 
 endeavoured to explain how the young lady happened to be in his room ; 
 and she kicking in hysterics amidst the maids and her sisters, while 
 Scatterbrain ran to and fro between all the parties, giving an ear to Fur- 
 long, an eye to O'Grady, and smelling salts to his daughter. 
 
 The case was a hard one to a milder man than O'Grady — his specu- 
 lation about Scatterbrain all knocked on the head, for it could not be 
 expected he would marry the lady who had been found under another 
 man's bed. To hush the thing up would be impossible, after the publi- 
 city his own fury had given to the affair. " Would she ever be married 
 after such an affair was eclate ? " The question rushed into his head at 
 one side, and the answer rushed in at the other, and met it with a 
 plump " No," — the question and answer then joined hands in O'Grady's 
 mind, and danced down the middle to the tune of " Haste to the wed- 
 ding." 
 
 " Yes," he said, slapping his forehead, " she must be married at 
 once." Then, turning to Furlong, he said, " You're not married, I 
 hope ? " 
 
 Furlong acknowledged he was not, though he regretted the moment 
 he made the admission. 
 
 " 'Tis .well for you," said O'Grady, " for it has saved your life. You 
 shall marry her then!" — 
 
 He never thought of asking Furlong's acquiescence in the measure. 
 
 " Come here! you baggage !" he cried to Augusta, as he laid hold of 
 her hand and pulled her up from her chair ; " come here ! I intended 
 you for a better man, but since you have such a hang-dog taste, why go to 
 him ! " — and he shoved her over to Furlong. 
 
 " There ! " he said, addressing him, " take her, since you will have 
 her. We'll speak of her fortune after." 
 
 The poor girl stood abashed, sobbing aloud, and tears pouring from her 
 downcast eyes. Furlong was so utterly taken by surprise, that he was 
 
 I, 
 
146 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 rivetted to the spot where he stood, and could not advance a step towards 
 his drooping intended. At this awkward moment, the glorious old 
 dowager came to the rescue ; she advanced, tin chimney-pot and all, and 
 taking a hand of each of the principals in her's, she joined them together 
 in a theatrical manner, and ejaculated with a benignant air, " Bless you, 
 my children!" 
 
 In the midst of the mingled rage, confusion, fright, and astonishment 
 of the various parties present, there was something so exquisitely absurd 
 in the old woman's proceeding, that nearly every one felt inclined to 
 laugh, but the terror of O'Grady kept their risible faculties in check. 
 Fate, however, decreed the finale should be comic ; for the cook, sud- 
 denly recollecting herself, exlaimed, " Oh, murther ! the goose will be 
 burned," and ran out of the room ; a smothered burst of laughter suc- 
 ceeded, which roused the ire of O'Grady, who, making a charge right 
 and left amongst the delinquents, the room was soon cleared, and the 
 party dispersed in various directions, O' Grady's voice rising loud above 
 the general confusion, as he swore his way down stairs, kicking his 
 mother's tin turban before him. 
 
•i ' ^jr^isr:!-:^ ' ,-r rT^- 
 
 • 
 
HANDY ANDY. 147 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 Canvassing before an election resembles skirmishing before a battle ; 
 — the skirmishing was over, and the arrival of the Honourable Sackville 
 Scatterbrain was like the first gun that commences an engagement ; — 
 and now both parties were to enter on the final struggle. 
 
 A jolly group sat in Murphy's dining parlour on the eve of the day 
 fixed for the nomination. Hitting points of speeches were discussed — 
 plans for bringing up voters — tricks to interrupt the business of the 
 opposite party — certain allusions on the hustings that would make the 
 enemy lose temper ; and, above all, every thing that could cheer and 
 amuse the people, and make them rejoice in their cause. 
 
 " Oh, let me alone for that much," said Murtough. " I have engaged 
 every piper and fiddler within twenty miles round, and divil a screech 
 of a chanter,* or a scrape of catgut, Scatterbrain can have for love or 
 money — that's one grand point." 
 
 " But," said Tom Durfy, ft he has engaged the yeomanry band." 
 
 " What of that?" asked Dick Dawson ; " a band is all very well for 
 making a splash in the first procession to the hustings, but what good 
 is it in working out the details ?" 
 
 " What do you call details ?" said Durfy. 
 
 " Why the popular tunes in the public houses, and in the tally rooms, 
 while the fellows are waiting to go up. Then the dances in the evening — 
 Wow ! — won't Scatterbrain's lads look mighty shy when they know the 
 Eganites are kicking their heels to ' Moll in the Wad,' while they hav'n't 
 a lilt to shake their bones to ?" 
 
 " To be sure," said Murphy; "we'll have deserters to our cause from 
 the enemy's camp before the first night is over ; f — wait till the girls 
 know where the fiddles are — and won't they make the lads join us !" 
 
 " I believe a woman would do a great deal for a dance," said Doctor 
 Growling ; " they are immensely fond of saltatory motion : I remember, 
 once in my life, I used to flirt with a little actress who was a great 
 favourite in a provincial town where I lived, and she was invited to a 
 ball there, and confided to me. she had no silk stockings to appear in, 
 and without them, her presence at the ball was out of the question." 
 
 '* That was a hint to you to buy the stockings," said Dick. 
 
 " No — you're out," said Growling. " She knew I was as poor as her- 
 self; but though she could not rely on my purse, she had every confidence 
 
 * The principal tube of a bag-pipe. 
 f In those times elections often lasted many days. 
 i 2 
 
148 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 in my taste and judgment, and consulted me on a plan she formed for 
 going to the ball in proper twig. Now, what do you think it was ?" 
 
 " To go in cotton, I suppose," returned Dick. 
 
 " Out again, sir — you'd never guess it ; and only a woman could have 
 hit on the expedient : it was the fashion in those days for ladies in full 
 dress to wear pink stockings, and she proposed painting her legs /" 
 
 " Painting her legs !" they all exclaimed. 
 
 " Fact, sir," said the doctor; "and she relied on me for telling her 
 if the cheat was successful — " 
 
 " And was it ?" asked Durfy. 
 
 " Don't be in a hurry, Tom. — I complied on one condition — namely 
 — that / should be the painter." 
 
 " Oh, you old rascal !" cried Dick. 
 
 " A capital bargain," said Tom Durfy. 
 
 " But not a safe covenant," added the attorney. 
 
 " Don't interrupt me, gentlemen," said tbe doctor : " I got some 
 rose-pink accordingly; and I defy all the hosiers in Nottingham to make 
 a tighter fit than I did on little Jinney ; and a prettier pair of stock- 
 ings I never saw." 
 
 " And she went to the ball ?" said Dick. 
 
 " She did." 
 
 " And the trick succeeded ?" added Durfy. 
 
 " So completely," said the doctor, " that several ladies asked her to 
 recommend her dyer to them — so you see what a woman will do to go 
 to a dance. Poor little Jinney! — she was a merry minx : — by-the-bye, 
 she boxed my ears that night for a joke I made about the stockings. 
 ' Jinney,' said I, 'for fear your stockings should fall down when you're 
 dancing, hadn't you better let me paint a pair of garters on them V " 
 
 The fellows laughed at the doctor's quaint conceit about the garters, 
 but Murphy called them back to the business of the election. 
 
 " What next ?" he said ; " public-houses and tally-rooms to have 
 pipers and fiddlers — ay — and we'll get up as good a march, too, as 
 Scatterbrain, with all his yeomanry band : — 1 think a cart-full of fiddlers 
 would have a fine effect!" 
 
 " If we could only get a double-bass amongst them !" said Dick. 
 
 " Talking of double-basses," said the doctor, " did you ever hear the 
 story of the sailor in an admiral's ship, who, when some fine concert was 
 to be given on board — " 
 
 " Hang your concerts and stories !" said Murphy ; " let us get on with 
 the election!" 
 
 " Oh, the doctor's story !" cried Tom Durfy and Dick Dawson together. 
 
 " Well, sir," continued the doctor ; " a sailor was handing in, over the 
 side, from a boat, which bore the instruments from shore, a great lot 
 of fiddles. When some tenors came into his hand, he said, those were 
 real good-sized fiddles ; and when a violoncello appeared, Jack, sup- 
 posing it was to be held between the hand and the shoulder, like a violin, 
 declared, ' He must be a strapping chap that fiddle belonged to !' But 
 when the double-bass made its appearance, — ' My eyes and limbs !' cried 
 Jack, ' I would like to see the chap as plays that !!!'." 
 
 '' Well, doctor, are you done ?" cried Murphy ; " for, if you are, now 
 
HANDY ANDY. 149 
 
 for the election. — You say, Dick, Major Dawson is to propose your 
 brother-in-law ?" 
 
 u Yes." 
 And he'll do it well, too : the Major makes a very good straight- 
 forward speech." 
 
 " Yes," said Dick ; " the old cock is not a bad hand at it ; but I have 
 a suspicion he's going to make a greater oration than usual, and read 
 some long rigmarolish old records." 
 
 " That will never do," said Murphy ; " as long as a man looks Pat in 
 the face, and makes a good rattling speech ' out o' the face,' Pat will 
 listen to him ; but when a lad takes to heavy readings, Pat grows tired : 
 — we must persuade the Major to give up the reading." 
 
 " Persuade my father," cried Dick, — " when did you ever hear of his 
 giving up his own opinion ? " 
 
 " If he could be prevailed on even to shorten," said Murphy. 
 
 " Oh, leave him to me," said Dick, laughing; "I'll take care he'll 
 not read a word." 
 
 " Manage that, Dick, and you're a jewel !" 
 
 " I will/' said Dick ; " I'll take the glasses out of his spectacles the 
 morning of the nomination, and then let him read, if he can." 
 
 " Capital, Dick ; and now the next point of discussion is — " 
 
 " Supper, ready to come up, sir," said a servant, opening the door. 
 
 " Then, that's the best thing we could discuss, boys," said Murphy 
 to his friends — " so up with the supper, Dan. Up with the supper ! — 
 Up with the Egans ! Down with the Scatterbrains — hurra ! — we'll 
 beat them gaily." 
 
 " Hollow!" saidDurfy. 
 
 " Not hollow," said Dick ; " we'll have a tussle for it." 
 
 " So much the better," cried Murphy : " I would not give a fig for 
 an easy victory — there's no fun in it. Give me the election that is like a 
 race — now one a-head, and then the other ; the closeness calling out all 
 the energies of both parties, and developing their tact and invention, 
 and at last, the return secured by a small majority." 
 
 " But think of the glory of a large one," said Dick. 
 
 "Ay," added Durfy, "besides crushing the hope of a petition on 
 the part of your enemy, to pull down the majority." 
 
 " But think of Murphy's enjoyment," said the doctor, "in defending 
 the seat, to say nothing of the bill of costs." 
 
 " You have me there, doctor," said Murphy, " a fair hit, I grant 
 you ; but see, the supper is on the table. To it, my lads ; to it ! and 
 then a jolly glass to drink success to our friend Egan." 
 
 And glass after glass they did drink in all sorts and shapes of well- 
 wishing toasts: — in short, to have seen the deep interest those men took 
 in the success of their friend, might have gladdened the heart of a 
 philanthropist ; though there is no knowing what Father Mathew, 
 had he flourished in those times, might have said to their overflowing 
 benevolence. 
 
150 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 The morning of the nomination which dawned on Neck-or-Nothing 
 Hall saw a motley group of O'Grady's retainers assembling in the stable- 
 yard, and the out-offices rang to laugh and joke over a rude, but plen- 
 tiful breakfast, — tea and coffee, there, had no place, — but meat, potatoes, 
 milk, beer, and whisky, were at the option of the body-guard, which 
 was selected for the honour of escorting the wild chief and his friend, 
 the candidate, into the town. Of this party was the yeomanry-band, of 
 which Tom Durfy spoke, though, to say the truth, considering Tom's 
 apprehensions on the subject, it was of slender force. One trumpet, one 
 clarionet, a fife, a big drum, and a pair of cymbals, with a " real nigger " 
 to play them, were all they could muster. 
 
 After clearing off every thing in the shape of breakfast, the "musi- 
 cianers" amused the retainers, from time to time, with a tune on the 
 clarionet, fife, or trumpet, while they waited the appearance of the party 
 from the house. Uproarious mirth and noisy joking rang round the 
 dwelling, to which none contributed more largely than the trumpeter, 
 who fancied himself an immensely clever fellow, and had a heap of cut and 
 dry jokes at his command, and practical drolleries, in which he indulged 
 to the great entertainment of all, but of none more than Andy, who was 
 in the thick of the row, and in a divided ecstasy between the " blacky- 
 moor s" turban and cymbals and the trumpeter's jokes and music, the 
 latter articles having a certain resemblance, by-the-bye, to the former in 
 clumsiness and noise, and therefore suited to Andy's taste. Whenever 
 occasion offered, Andy got near the big drum, too, and gave it a thump, 
 delighted with the result of his ambitious achievement. 
 
 Andy was not lost on the trumpeter : — " Arrah, may be you'd like to 
 have a touch at these V said the joker, holding up the cymbals. 
 
 " Is it hard to play them, sir ?" inquired Andy. 
 
 " Hard !" said the trumpeter ; " sure they're not hard at all — but as 
 soft and smooth as satin inside — just feel them — rub your finger inside." 
 
 Andy obeyed; and his finger was chopped between the two brazen 
 plates. Andy roared, the by-standers laughed, and the trumpeter tri- 
 umphed in his wit ; sometimes he would come behind an unsuspecting 
 boor, and give, close to his ear, a discordant bray from his trumpet, like 
 the note of a jackass, which made him jump, and the crowd roar with 
 merriment; — or, perhaps, when the clarionet or the fife was engaged 
 in giving the people a tune, he would drown either, or both of them in 
 a wild yell of his instrument. As they could not make reprisals upon 
 him, he had his own way in playing whatever he liked for his audience ; 
 
HANDY ANDY. 151 
 
 and in doing so indulged in all the airs of a great artist— pulling out 
 one crook from another — blowing through them softly, and shaking tne 
 moisture from them in a tasty style — rearranging them with a fastidious 
 n i ce ty— then, after the final adjustment of the mouth-piece, lipping the 
 instrument with an affectation exquisitely grotesque ; but, before he 
 began, he always asked for another drink. 
 
 " It's not for myself," he would say, " but for the thrumpet, the 
 crayther, the divil a note she can blow without a dhrop." 
 
 Then taking a mug of drink, he would present it to the bell of the 
 trumpet, and afterwards transfer it to his own lips, always bowing to the 
 instrument first, and saying, " Your health, ma'am!" 
 
 This was another piece of delight to the mob, and Andy thought him 
 the funniest fellow he ever met, though he did chop his finger. 
 " Faix, sir, an' it is dhry work I'm sure, playing the thing." 
 "Dhry!" said the trumpeter, " 'pon my ruffles and tuckers, and 
 that's a cambric oath, its worse nor lime burnin', so it is — it makes a 
 man's throat as parched as pays." 
 
 " Who dar say pays ? " cried the drummer. 
 
 " Howld your prate! " said the trumpeter elegantly, and silenced all 
 reply by playing a tune. As soon as it was ended, he turned to Andy 
 and asked for a cork. 
 Andy gave it to him. 
 
 The man of jokes affected to put it into the trumpet. 
 " What's that for, sir," asked Andy. 
 
 " To bottle up the music," said the trumpeter — " sure all the music 
 would run about the place if I didn't do that." 
 
 Andy gave a vague sort of " ha, ha!" as if he were not quite sure 
 whether the trumpeter was in jest or earnest, and thought at the moment 
 that to play the trumpet and practical jokes must be the happiest life in 
 the world. Filled with this idea, Andy was on the watch how he could 
 possess himself of the trumpet, for could he get one blast on it, he would 
 be happy : a chance at last opened to him ; after some time, the lively 
 owner of the treasure laid down his instrument to handle a handsome 
 blackthorn which one of the retainers was displaying, and he made some 
 flourishes with the weapon to show that music was not his only accom- 
 plishment. Andy seized the opportunity and the trumpet, and made 
 off to one of the sheds where they had been regaling ; and shutting the 
 door to secure himself from observation, he put the trumpet to his 
 mouth, and distended his cheeks near to bursting with the violence of his 
 efforts to produce a sound ; bat all his puffing was unavailing for some 
 minutes. At last a faint cracked squeak answered a more desperate 
 blast than before, and Andy was delighted. — " Everything must have a 
 beginning," thought Andy, " and maybe I'll get a tune out of it yet.' — 
 He tried again, and increased in power ; for a sort of strangled screech 
 was the result. Andy was in ecstasy, and began to indulge visions of 
 being one day a trumpeter; — he strutted up and down the shed like 
 the original he so envied, and repeated some of the drolleries he heard 
 him utter. He also imitated his action of giving a drink to the trumpet, 
 and was more generous to the instrument than the owner, for he really 
 poured about half a pint of beer down its throat : he then drank its 
 
152 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 health, and finished by " bottling up the music," absolutely cramming a 
 cork into the trumpet. Now Andy, having no idea the trumpeter made 
 a sham of the action, made a vigorous plunge of a goodly cork into the 
 throat of the instrument, and in so doing, the cork went farther than he 
 intended : — he tried to withdraw it, but his clumsy fingers, instead of 
 extracting only drove it in deeper — he became alarmed — and seizing a 
 fork, strove with its assistance to remedy the mischief he had done, but 
 the more he poked, the worse ; — and in his fright, he thought the safest 
 thing he could do was to cram the cork out of sight altogether, and 
 having soon done that, he returned to the yard, and laid down the 
 trumpet unobserved. 
 
 Immediately after, the procession to the town started. O'Grady gave 
 orders that the party should not be throwing away their powder and 
 shot, as he called it, in untimely huzzas and premature music. " Wait 
 till you come to the town, boys ;" said he, " and then you may smash 
 away as hard as you can ; blow your heads off and split the sky." 
 
 The party from Merryvale was in motion for the place of action about 
 the same time, and a merrier pack of rascals never were on the march. 
 Murphy, in accordance with his preconceived notion of a " fine effect," 
 had literally " a cart full of fiddlers ;" — but the fiddlers hadn't it all to 
 themselves, for there was another cart full of pipers ; and, by way of 
 mockery to the grandeur of Scatterbrain's band, he had four or five boys 
 with gridirons, which they played upon with pokers, and half a dozen 
 strapping fellows carrying large iron tea trays, which they whopped after 
 the manner of a Chinese gong. 
 
 It so happened, that the two roads from Merryvale and Neck-or- 
 Nothing Hall met at an acute angle, at the same end of the town, and 
 it chanced that the rival candidates and their retinues arrived at this 
 point about the same time. 
 
 " There they are ! " said Murphy, who presided in the cart full of 
 fiddlers like a leader in an orchestra, with a shilelah for his baton, which 
 he flourished over his head as he shouted, " Now give it to them, your 
 sowls ! — rasp and lilt away, boys ! slate the gridirons, Mick ! — smaddher 
 the tay-tray, Tom ! " 
 
 The uproar of strange sounds that followed, shouting included, may 
 be easier imagined than described ; and O'Grady, answering the war cry, 
 sung out to his band : " What are you at there, you lazy rascals ; don't 
 you hear them blackguards beginning ? — fire away and be hanged to 
 you!" 
 
 His rascals shouted, bang went the drum, and clang went the cymbals, 
 the clarionet squeaked, and the fife tootled, but the trumpet — #h ! — the 
 trumpet — their great reliance ; where was the trumpet 1 O'Grady in- 
 quired in the precise words, with a diabolical addition of his own. 
 
 " Where the d is the trumpet ; " said he ; he looked over the side 
 
 of the carriage, as he spoke, and saw the trumpeter spitting out a 
 mouthful of beer, which had ran from the instrument as he lifted it to 
 his mouth. 
 
 " Bad luck to you, what are you wasting your time there for," thun- 
 dered O'Grady in a rage ; " why did'nt you spit out when you were 
 young, and you'd be a clean old man ? — " Blow and be d to you !" 
 
■ 
 
 ■^sTUCJt 
 
HANDY ANDY. 153 
 
 The trumpeter filled his lungs for a great blast, and put the trumpet 
 to his lips — but in vain ; Andy had bottled his music for him. O'Grady, 
 seeing the inflated cheeks and protruding eyes of the musician, whose 
 visage was crimson with exertion, and yet no sound produced, thought 
 the fellow was practising one of his jokes upon him, and became exces- 
 sively indignant ; he thundered anathemas at him, but his voice was 
 drowned in the din of the drum and cymbals, which were plied so 
 vigorously, that the clarionet and fife shared the same fate as O'Grady's 
 voice. The trumpeter could judge of O'Grady's rage from the fierce- 
 ness of his actions only, and answered him in pantomimic expression, 
 holding up his trumpet and pointing into the bell, with a grin of vexation 
 on his phiz, meant to express something was wrong ; but this was all 
 mistaken by the fierce O'Grady, who only saw in the trumpeter's grins 
 the insolent intention of gibing him. 
 
 " Blow, you blackguard ; blow !" shouted the Squire. 
 
 Bang went the drum. 
 
 " Blow — or I'll break your neck ! " 
 
 Crash went the cymbals. 
 
 " Stop your banging there, you ruffians, and let me be heard! " roared 
 the excited man ; but as he was standing up on the seat of the carriage, 
 and flung his arms about wildly as he spoke, the drummer thought his 
 action was meant to stimulate him to further exertion, and he banged 
 away louder than before. 
 
 " By the hokey, I'll murder some o' ye ! " shouted the Squire, who, 
 ordering the carriage to pull up, flung open the door and jumped out, 
 made a rush at the drummer, seized his principal drumstick, and giving 
 him a bang over the head with it, cursed him for a rascal, for not stopping 
 when he told him : this silenced all the instruments together, and 
 O'Grady, seizing the trumpeter by the back of the neck, shook him 
 violently, while he denounced with fierce imprecations his insolence in 
 daring to practise a joke on him. The trumpeter protested his innocence, 
 and O'Grady called him a lying rascal, finishing his abuse by clenching 
 his fist in a menacing attitude, and telling him to play. 
 
 " I can't, your honour ! " 
 
 " You lie, you scoundrel." 
 
 " There's something in the thrumpet, sir." 
 
 " Yes, there's music in it ; and if you don't blow it out of it — " 
 
 " I can't blow it out of it, sir." 
 
 " Hold your prate, your ruffian ; blow, this minute." 
 
 " Arrah, thry it yourself, sir ;" said the frightened man, handing the 
 instrument to the Squire. 
 
 " D — n your impudence, you rascal ; do you think I'd blow anything 
 that was in your dirty mouth ; blow, I tell you, or it will be worse for 
 you." 
 
 " By the vartue o' my oath, your honour." 
 
 "Blow, I tell you!" 
 
 " By the seven blessed candles." 
 
 " Blow, I tell you !" 
 
 " The thrumpet is choked, sir." 
 
 " There will be a trumpeter choked, soon," said O'Grady, gripping 
 
154 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 him by the neck-handkerchief, with his knuckles ready to twist into his 
 throat. " By this and that I'll strangle you, if you don't play this 
 minute, you humbugger." 
 
 " By the blessed Vargin, I'm not humbuggin', your honour;" stam- 
 mered the trumpeter with the little breath O'Grady left him. 
 
 Scatterbrain, seeing O'Grady's fury, and fearful of its consequences, 
 had alighted from the carriage, and came to the rescue, suggesting to the 
 infuriated Squire, that what the man said might be true. O'Grady said 
 he knew better, that the blackguard was a notorious joker, and having 
 indulged in a jest in the first instance, was now only lying to save him- 
 self from punishment ; furthermore, swearing that if he did not play 
 that minute, he'd throw him into the ditch. 
 
 With great difficulty O'Grady was prevailed upon to give up his grip 
 of the trumpeter's throat ; and the poor breathless wretch, handing his 
 instrument to the clarionet-player, appealed to him if it were possible to 
 play on it. The clarionet player said he could not tell, for he did not 
 understand the trumpet. 
 
 " You see there !" cried O'Grady. " You see he's humbugging, and 
 the clarionet-player is an honest man." 
 
 " An honest man !" exclaimed the trumpeter, turning fiercely on the 
 clarionet-player. " He's the biggest villian unhanged, for sthrivin' to 
 get me murthered, and refusin' the evidence for me !" The man's eyes 
 flashed fury as he spoke ; and throwing his trumpet down, he exclaimed, 
 " Mooney ! — by jakers, you're no man !" And clenching his fists, as 
 he spoke, he made a rush on the clarionet-player, and planted a hit on 
 his mouth with such vigour, that he rolled in the dust ; and when he 
 rose, it was with such an upper lip that his clarionet-playing was evi- 
 dently finished for the next week certainly. 
 
 Now the fifer was the clarionet-player's brother ; and he, turning on 
 the trumpeter, roared — 
 
 " Bad luck to you ! — you did not sthrek him fair !" 
 
 But while in the very act of reprobating the foul blow, he let fly a 
 hit under the ear of the trumpeter, who was quite unprepared for it, — 
 and he, too, measured his length on the road. On recovering his legs, 
 he rushed on the fifer for revenge, and a regular scuffle ensued amongst 
 " the musicianers," to the great delight of the crowd of retainers, who 
 were so well primed with whisky that a fight was just the thing to their 
 taste. 
 
 In vain O'Grady swore at them, and went amongst them, striving to 
 restore order, but they would not be quiet till several black eyes and 
 damaged noses bore evidence of a very busy five minutes having passed. 
 In the course of " the scrimmage," Fate was unkind to the fifer, whose 
 mouth-piece was considerably impaired; and "the boys" remarked, 
 that the worst stick you could have in a crowd was a " whistling stick," 
 by which name they designated the fifer's instrument. 
 
 At last, however, peace was restored, and the trumpeter again ordered 
 to play by O'Grady. 
 
 He protested, again, it was impossible. 
 
 The fifer, in revenge, declared he was only humbugging the Squire. 
 
 Hereupon O'Grady, seizing the unfortunate trumpeter, gave him a 
 
HANDY ANDY. 155 
 
 more sublime kicking than ever fell to the lot even of a piper or fiddler, 
 whose pay* is proverbially oftener in that article than the coin of the 
 realm. 
 
 Having tired himself, and considerably rubbed down the toe of his 
 boot with his gentlemanly exercise, O'Grady dragged the trumpeter to 
 the ditch, and rolled him into it, there to cool the fever which burned in 
 his seat of honour. 
 
 O'Grady then re-entered the carriage with Scatterbrain, and the 
 party proceeded ; but the clarionet-player could not blow a note, the 
 fifer was not in good playing condition, and tootled with some difficulty ; 
 the drummer was obliged now and then to relax his efforts in making 
 a noise, that he might lift his right arm to his nose, which had got 
 damaged in the fray, and the process of wiping his face with his cuff 
 changed the white facings of his jacket to red. The negro cymbal- 
 player was the only one whose damages were not to be ascertained, as a 
 black eye would not tell on him, and his lips could not be more swollen 
 than nature had made them. On the procession went, however ; but the 
 rival mob, the Eganites, profiting by the delay caused by the row, got 
 a-head, and entered the town first, with their pipers and fiddlers, hurrah- 
 ing their way in good humour down the street, and occupying the best 
 places in the court-house, before the arrival of the opposite party, whose 
 band, instead of being a source of triumph, was only a thing of jeering 
 merriment to the Eganites, who received them with mockery and 
 laughter. All this by no means sweetened O'Grady's temper, who 
 looked thunder as he entered the court-house with his candidate, who 
 was, though a good-humoured fellow, a little put out by the accidents 
 of the morning ; and Furlong looked more sheepish than ever, as he 
 followed his leaders. 
 
 The business of the day was opened by the high-sheriff, and Major 
 Dawson lost no time in rising to propose, that Edward Egan, Esquire, 
 of Merryvale, was a fit and proper person to represent the county in 
 parliament. 
 
 The proposition was received with cheers by " the boys" in the body 
 of the court-house ; the Major proceeded, full sail, in his speech — his 
 course aided by being on the popular current, and the ".sweet voices" 
 of the multitude blowing in his favour. On concluding (as " the 
 boys" thought) his address, which was straightforward, and to the 
 point, a voice in the crowd proposed, " Three cheers for the owld Major." 
 
 Three deafening peals followed the hint. 
 
 " And now," said the Major, " I will read a few extracts here from 
 some documents, in support of what I have had the honour of addressing 
 to you." And he pulled out a bundle of papers as he spoke, and laid 
 them down before him. 
 
 The movement was not favoured by " the boys," as it indicated a 
 tedious reference to facts, by no means to their taste, and the same voice 
 which suggested the three cheers, now sung out — 
 
 " Never mind, Major — sure, we'll take your word for it !" 
 
 Cries of "Order!" and " Silence !" ensued ; and were followed by 
 
 * Fiddlers' fare, or pipers' pay — more kicks than halfpence. 
 
156 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 murmurs, coughs, and sneezes, in tne crowd, with a considerable shuffling 
 of hobnailed shoes on the pavement. 
 
 " Order !" cried a voice in authority .'* 
 
 " Order any thing you plaze, sir !" said the voice in the crowd. 
 
 " Whisky !" cried one. 
 
 " Porther !" shouted another. 
 
 " Tabakky !" roared a third. 
 
 " I must insist on silence !" cried the sheriff, in a very husky voice. 
 " Silence — or I'll have the court-house cleared!" 
 
 " Faith, if you cleared your own throat it would be betther," said the 
 wag in the crowd. 
 
 A laugh followed. The sheriff felt the hit, and was silent. 
 
 The Major all this time had been adjusting his spectacles on his nose, 
 unconscious, poor old gentleman, that Dick, according to promise, had 
 abstracted the glasses from them that morning. He took up his docu- 
 ments to read, made sundry wry faces, turned the papers up to the 
 light, — -now on this side, and now on that, — but could make out nothing ; 
 while Dick gave a knowing wink at Murphy. The old gentleman took 
 off his spectacles to wipe the glasses. 
 
 The voice in the crowd cried, " Thank you, Major !" 
 
 The Major pulled out his handkerchief, and his fingers met where he 
 expected to find a lens : — he looked very angry, cast a suspicious glance 
 at Dick, who met it with the composure of an anchorite, and quietly 
 asked what was the matter. 
 
 " I shall not trouble you, gentlemen, with the extracts," said the 
 Major. 
 
 " Hear, hear," responded the genteel part of the auditory. 
 
 " I tould you we'd take your word, Major," cried the voice in the 
 crowd. 
 
 Egan's seconder followed the Major, and the crowd shouted again. 
 O'Grady now came forward to propose the Honourable Sackville Scat- 
 terbrain, as a fit and proper person to represent the county in parlia- 
 ment. He was received by his own set of vagabonds with uproarious 
 cheers, and " O'Grady for ever ! " made the walls ring. '* Egan for 
 ever ! " and hurras were returned from the Merryvalians. O'Grady thus 
 commenced his address : — 
 
 " In coming forward to support my honourable friend, the Honour- 
 able Sackville Scatterbrain, it is from the conviction — the conviction " — 
 
 " Who got the conviction agen the potteen last sishin ? " said the 
 voice in the crowd. 
 
 Loud groans followed this allusion to the prosecution of a few little 
 private stills, in which O'Grady had shown some unnecessary severity 
 that made him unpopular. Cries of " Order " and " Silence " ensued. 
 
 " I say the conviction," repeated O'Grady fiercely, looking towards 
 the quarter whence the interruption took place, — " and if there is any 
 blackguard here who dares to interrupt me, I'll order him to be taken 
 out by the ears. I say, I propose my honourable friend, the Honour- 
 able Sackville Scatterbrain, from the conviction that there is a necessity 
 in this county — " 
 
 " Faith, there is plenty of necessity," said the tormentor in the crowd. 
 
HANDY ANDY. 157 
 
 " Take that man out," said the sheriff. 
 
 " Don't hurry yourself, sir," returned the delinquent, amidst the 
 laughter of" the boys," in proportion to whose merriment rose O'Grady's 
 ill humour. 
 
 " I say there is a necessity for a vigorous member to represent this 
 county in parliament, and support the laws, the constitution, the crown, 
 and the — the — the interests of the county ! " 
 
 " Who made the new road ? " was a question that now rose from the 
 crowd — a laugh followed — and some groans at this allusion to a bit of 
 jobbing on the part of O'Grady, who got a grand jury presentment to 
 make a road which served nobody's interest but his own. 
 
 " The frequent interruptions I meet here from the lawless and dis- 
 affected, show too plainly that we stand in need of men who will sup- 
 port the arm of the law in purging the country." — 
 
 " Who killed the 'pothecary 1 " said a fellow, in a voice so deep that 
 it seemed suited to issue from the jaws of death. 
 
 The question, and the extraordinary voice in which it was uttered, 
 produced one of those roars of laughter which sometimes shake 
 public meetings in Ireland ; and O'Grady grew furious. 
 
 " If I knew who that gentleman was, I'd pay him ! " said he. 
 
 " You'd better pay them you know," was the answer; and this allu- 
 sion to O'Grady's notorious character of a bad pay, was relished by the 
 crowd, and again raised the laugh against him. 
 
 " Sir," said O'Grady, addressing the sheriff, " I hold this ruffianism 
 in contempt. I treat it, and the authors of it, those who no doubt have 
 instructed them, with contempt." He looked over to where Egan and 
 his friends stood, as he spoke of the crowd having had instruction to in- 
 terrupt him. 
 
 " If you mean, sir," said Egan, " that I have given any such instruc- 
 tion, I deny, in the most unqualified terms, the truth of such an asser- 
 tion." 
 
 " Keep yourself cool, Ned," said Dick Dawson, close to his ear. 
 
 " Never fear me," said Egan, " but I won't let him bully." 
 
 The two former friends now exchanged rather fierce looks at each other. 
 
 " Then why am I interrupted ? " asked O'Grady. 
 
 " It is no business of mine to answer that," replied Egan ; " but I 
 repeat the unqualified denial of your assertion." 
 
 The crowd ceased its noise when the two Squires were seen engaged 
 in exchanging smart words, in the hope of catching what they said. 
 
 u It is a disgraceful uproar," said the sheriff. 
 
 " Then it is your business, Mister Sheriff," returned Egan, " to sup- 
 press it — not mine ; they are quiet enough now." 
 
 " Yes, but they'll make a wow again," said Furlong, "when Miste' 
 O'Gwady begins." 
 
 " You seem to know all about it," said Dick ; " maybe you have in- 
 structed them." 
 
 " No, sir, I didn't instwuct them," said Furlong, very angry at being 
 twitted by Dick. 
 
 Dick laughed in his face, and said " Maybe that's one of your elec- 
 tioneering tactics — eh 1 " 
 
158 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 Furlong got very angry, while Dick and Murphy shouted with laugh- 
 ter at him. — " No, sir," said Furlong, " I don't welish the pwactice of 
 such di'ty twicks." 
 
 " Do you apply the word ' dirty ' to me, sir ? " said Dick the Devil, 
 ruffling up like a game-cock. — " I'll tell you what, sir, if you make use 
 of the word ( dirty ' again, I'd think very little of kicking you — ay, 
 or eight like you — I'd kick eight Furlongs one mile." 
 
 " Who's talking of kicking ? " asked O'Grady. 
 
 " I am," said Dick, "do you want any?" 
 
 "Gentlemen! gentlemen!" cried the sheriff, "order! pray, order ! 
 do proceed with the business of the day." 
 
 " I'll talk to you after about this ! " said O'Grady, in a threatening 
 tone. 
 
 " Very well," said Dick, " we've time enough, the day's young yet." 
 
 O'Grady then proceeded to find fault with Egan, censuring his 
 politics, and endeavouring to justify his defection from the same 
 cause : he concluded thus, " Sir, I shall pursue my course of duty ; 
 I have chalked out my own line of conduct, sir, and I am convinced 
 no other line is the right line. Our opponents are wrong, sir, — 
 totally wrong — all wrong, and, as I have said, I have chalked out my 
 own line, sir, and I propose the Honourable Sackville Scatterbrain as a 
 fit and proper person to sit in parliament for the representation of this 
 county." 
 
 The O'Gradyites shouted as their chief concluded ; and the Merry- 
 valians returned some groans, and a cry of " Go home, turncoat ! " 
 
 Egan now presented himself, and was received with deafening and 
 long-continued cheers, for he was really beloved by the people at large ; 
 his frank and easy nature, the amiable character he bore in all his social 
 relations, the merciful and conciliatory tendency of his decisions and 
 conduct as a magistrate, won him the solid respect as well as affection of 
 the country. 
 
 He had been for some days in low spirits in consequence of Larry 
 Hogan's visit and mysterious communication with him ; but this, its 
 cause, was unknown to all but himself, and therefore more difficult to 
 support ; for none but those whom sad experience has taught can tell 
 the agony of enduring in secret and in silence the pang that gnaws a 
 proud heart, which, Spartan like, will let the tooth destroy, without 
 complaint or murmur. 
 
 His depression, however, was apparent, and Dick told Murphy 
 he feared Ned would not be up to the mark at the election ; but Murphy, 
 with a better knowledge of human nature, and the excitement of such a 
 cause, said, " Never fear him — ambition is a long spur, my boy, and 
 will stir the blood of a thicker-skinned fellow than your brother-in-law. 
 When he comes to stand up and assert his claims before the world, he'll 
 be all right!" 
 
 Murphy was a true prophet, for Egan presented himself with con- 
 fidence, brightness, and good-humour on his open countenance. 
 
 " The first thing I have to ask of you, boys," said Egan, addressing 
 the assembled throng, " is a fair hearing for the other candidate." 
 " Hear, hear ! " followed from the gentlemen in the gallery. 
 
HANDY ANDY. 159 
 
 " And as he is a stranger amongst us, let him have the privilege of 
 first addressing you." 
 
 With these words he bowed courteously to Scatterbrain, who thanked 
 him very much like a gentleman, and accepting his offer, advanced to 
 address the electors. O'Grady waved his hand in signal to his body- 
 guard, and Scatterbrain had three cheers from the ragamuffins. 
 
 He was no great things of a speaker, but he was a good-humoured 
 fellow, and this won on the Paddies ; and although coming before them 
 under the disadvantage of being proposed by O'Grady, they heard him 
 with good temper : — to this, however, Egan's good word considerably 
 contributed. 
 
 He went very much over the ground his proposer had taken, so that, 
 bating the bad temper, the pith of his speech was much the same, quite 
 as much deprecating the political views of his opponent, and harping on 
 O'Grady's worn-out catch-word of " Having chalked out a line for him- 
 self," &c. &c. &c. 
 
 Egan now stood forward, and was greeted with fresh cheers. He 
 began in a very Irish fashion ; for, being an unaffected, frank, and free- 
 hearted fellow himself, he knew how to touch the feelings of those who 
 possess such qualities themselves. He waited till the last echo of the 
 uproarious greeting died away, and the first simple words he uttered were — 
 
 " Here I am, boys !" 
 
 Simple as the words were, they produced " one cheer more." 
 
 " Here I am, boys, — the same I ever was." 
 
 " Loud huzzas," and " Long life to you !" answered the last pithy 
 words, which were sore ones to O'Grady ; who, as a renegade, felt the hit. 
 
 " Fellow countrymen, I come forward to represent you, and, however 
 I may be unequal to that task, at least, I will never misrepresent you." 
 
 Another cheer followed. 
 
 " My past life is evidence enough on that point ; God forbid I were of 
 the mongrel breed of Irishmen, who speak ill of their own country. I 
 never did it, boys, and I never will ! Some think they get on by it, and 
 so they do, indeed ; — they get on as sweeps and shoe-blacks get on, — they 
 drive a dirty trade, and find employment; — but are they respected?" 
 
 Shouts of " No— no." 
 
 " You're right ! — No ! — they are not respected, — even by their very 
 employers. Your political sweep and shoe-black is no more respected 
 than he who cleans our chimneys or cleans our shoes. The honour 
 able gentleman who has addressed you last, confesses he is a stranger 
 amongst you ; and is a stranger to be your representative ? You 
 may be civil to a stranger — it is a pleasing duty ; but he is not the 
 man to whom you would give your confidence. You might share a 
 hearty glass with a stranger, but you would not enter into a joint lease 
 of a farm without knowing a little more of him ; and if you would not 
 trust a single farm with a stranger, will you give a whole county into his 
 hands ? When a stranger comes to these parts, I'm sure he'll get a civil 
 answer from every man I see here, — he will get a civil ' yes,' or a civil 
 ' no,' to his question, — and if he seeks his way, you will show him his 
 road. And to the honourable gentleman, who has done you the favour 
 to come and ask you civilly, will you give him the county, you as civilly 
 
160 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 may answer ' No/ and show him his road home again. As for the 
 gentleman who proposed him, he has chosen to make certain strictures 
 upon my views, and opinions, and conduct. As for views — there was 
 a certain heathen god, the Romans worshipped, called Janus ; he was 
 a fellow with two heads — and, by-the-bye, boys, he would have been 
 just the fellow to live amongst us ; for when one of his heads was 
 broken, he would have had the other for use. Well, this Janus was 
 called ' double-face,' and could see before and behind him. Now, Tm 
 no double-face, boys ; and as for seeing before and behind me, I can 
 look back on the past, and forward to the future, and both the roads are 
 straight ones. {Cheers.) I wish every one could say as much. As for 
 my opinions, all I shall say is, / never changed mine ; Mister O'Grady 
 can't say as much." 
 
 " Sure there's a weathercock in the family," said the voice in the 
 crowd. 
 
 A loud laugh followed this sally, for the old dowager's eccentricity 
 was not quite a secret. — O'Grady looked as if he could have eaten the 
 whole crowd at a mouthful. 
 
 " Much has been said," continued Egan, " about gentlemen chalking 
 out lines for themselves : — now, the plain English of this very deter- 
 mined chalking of their own line, is nibbing out every other man's line. 
 Some of these chalking gentlemen have lines chalked up against them, 
 and might find it difficult to pay the score if they were called to account. 
 To such — rubbing out other men's lines, and their own, too, may be con- 
 venient ; but I don't like the practice. Boys, I have no more to say 
 than this, We know and can trust each other i " 
 
 Egan's address was received witb acclamation, and when silence was 
 restored, the sheriff demanded a show of hands ; and a very fine show 
 of hands there was, and every hand had a stick in it. 
 
 The show of hands was declared to be in favour of Egan, whereupon 
 a poll was demanded on the part of Scatterbrain, after which every one 
 began to move from the court-house. 
 
 O'Grady, in very ill-humour, was endeavouring to shove past a 
 herculean fellow, rather ragged, and very saucy, who did not seem 
 inclined to give place to the savage elbowing of the Squire. 
 
 " What brings such a ragged rascal as you here 1 " said O'Grady, bru- 
 tally ; " you're not an elector." 
 
 " Yis, I am!" replied the fellow, sturdily. 
 
 " Why, you can't have a lease, you beggar." 
 
 " No, but maybe I have an article."* 
 
 " What is your article ?" 
 
 "What is it?" retorted the fellow, with a fierce look at O'Grady. 
 " Faith, it's a fine brass blundherbuss ; and I'd like to see the man 
 would dispute the title." 
 
 O'Grady had met his master, and could not reply ; the crowd shouted 
 for the raggamuffin, and all parties separated, to gird up their loins for 
 the next day's poll. 
 
 * A name given to a written engagement between landlord and tenant, promising 
 to grant a lease, on which registration is allowed in Ireland. 
 
HANDY ANDY. 161 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 After the angry words exchanged at the nomination, the most 
 peaceable reader must have anticipated the probability of a duel ; — but 
 when the inflammable stuff of which Irishmen are made is considered, 
 together with the excitement and pugnacious spirit attendant upon 
 elections in all places, the certainty of a hostile meeting must have been 
 apparent. — The sheriff might have put the gentlemen under arrest, it 
 is true, but that officer was a weak, thoughtless, and irresolute person, and 
 took no such precaution ; though, to do the poor man justice, it is only 
 fair to say, that such an intervention of authority at such a time and place 
 would have been considered on all hands as a very impertinent, un- 
 justifiable and discourteous interference with the private pleasures and 
 privileges of gentlemen. 
 
 Dick Dawson had a message conveyed to him from O'Grady, request- 
 ing the honour of his company the next morning to " grass before 
 breakfast ;" to which, of course, Dick returned an answer expressive of 
 the utmost readiness to oblige the squire with his presence ; and, as the 
 business of the election was of importance, it was agreed they should 
 meet at a given spot on the way to the town, and so lose as little time 
 as possible. 
 
 The next morning, accordingly, the parties met at the appointed 
 place, Dick attended by Edward O'Connor and Egan — the former in 
 capacity of his friend ; and O'Grady, with Scatterbrain for his second, 
 and Furlong a looker-on : there were some straggling spectators besides, 
 to witness the affair. 
 
 " O'Grady looks savage, Dick," said Edward. 
 
 " Yes," answered Dick, with a smile of as much unconcern as if he 
 were going to lead off a country dance. " He looks as pleasant as a 
 bull in a pound." 
 
 " Take care of yourself, my dear Dick," said Edward, seriously. 
 
 " My dear boy, don't make yourself uneasy," replied Dick, laughing. 
 — " I'll bet you two to one he misses me." 
 
 Edward made no reply, but to his sensitive and more thoughtful 
 nature, betting at such a moment savoured too much of levity, so, 
 leaving his friend, he advanced to Scatterbrain, and they commenced 
 making the preliminary preparations. 
 
 During the period which this required, O'Grady was looking down 
 sulkily or looking up fiercely, and striking his heel with vehemence 
 into the sod, while Dick Dawson was whistling a planxty and eyeing his 
 man. 
 
162 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 The arrangements were soon made, the men placed on their ground, 
 and Dick saw by the intent look with which O'Grady marked him, that 
 he meant mischief ; they were handed their pistols — the seconds retired 
 — the word was given, and as O'Grady raised his pistol, Dick saw he 
 was completely covered, and suddenly exclaimed, throwing up his arm, 
 " I beg your pardon for a moment." 
 
 O'Grady involuntarily lowered his weapon, and seeing Dick standing 
 perfectly erect, and nothing following his sudden request for this sus- 
 pension of hostilities, asked, in a very angry tone, why he had inter- 
 rupted him. " Because I saw you had me covered," said Dick, " and 
 you'd have hit me if you had fired that time : now fire away as soon as 
 you like !" added he, at the same moment rapidly bringing up his own 
 pistol to the level. 
 
 O'Grady was taken by surprise, and fancying Dick was going to 
 blaze at him, fired hastily and missed his adversary. 
 
 Dick made him a low bow, and fired in the air. 
 
 O'Grady wanted another shot, saying Dawson had tricked him, but 
 Scatterbrain felt the propriety of Edward O'Connor's objection to 
 further fighting, after Dawson receiving O'Grady's fire ; so the gentle- 
 men were removed from the ground, and the affair terminated. 
 
 O'Grady, having fully intended to pink Dick, was excessively savage 
 at being overreached, and went off to the election with a temper by no 
 means sweetened by the morning's adventure, while Dick roared with 
 laughing, exclaiming at intervals to Edward O'Connor, as he was putting 
 up the pistols, " Did not I do him neatly 1 " 
 
 Off they cantered gaily to the high road, exchanging 'merry and 
 cheering salutations with the electors, who were thronging towards the 
 town in great numbers and all variety of manner, group, and costume. 
 Some on foot, some on horseback, and some on cars ; the gayest attire 
 of holiday costume, contrasting with the every-day rags of wretched- 
 ness ; the fresh cheek of health and beauty making gaunt misery look 
 more appalling, and the elastic step of vigorous youth outstripping the 
 tardy pace of feeble age. Pedestrians were hurrying on in detach- 
 ments of five or six — the equestrians in companies less numerous ; 
 sometimes the cavalier who could boast a saddle carrying a woman 
 on a pillion behind him. — But saddle or pillion were not an indispen- 
 sable accompaniment to this equestrian duo, for many a " bare back" 
 garran carried his couple, his only harness being a halter made of a 
 hay-rope, which in time of need sometimes proves a substitute for rack 
 and manger ; for it is not uncommon in Ireland to see the garran nibbling 
 the end of his bridle when opportunity offers. — The cars were in great 
 variety : some bore small kishes,* in which a woman and some children 
 might be seen — others had a shake down of clean straw to serve for 
 cushions ; while the better sort spread a feather-bed for greater comfort, 
 covered by a patchwork quilt, the work of the "good woman" herself, 
 whose own quilted petticoat vied in brightness with the calico roses on 
 which she was sitting. — The most luxurious indulged still further in 
 some arched branches of hazel, which, bent above the car in the fashion 
 
 * A large basket of coarse wicker-work, used mostlv for carrying turf, AnglicS peat. 
 
HANDY ANDY. 1G3 
 
 of a booth, bore another coverlid, by way of awning, and served for 
 protection against the weather ; but few there were who could indulge 
 in such a luxury as this of the " chaise marine," which is the name the 
 contrivance bears, but why, Heaven only knows. 
 
 The street of the town had its centre occupied at the broadest place 
 with a long row of cars, covered in a similar manner to the chaise marine, 
 a door or a shutter laid across underneath the awning, after the fashion 
 of a counter, on which various articles were displayed for sale ; for the 
 occasion of the election was as good as a fair to the small dealers, and 
 the public were therefore favoured with the usual opportunity of 
 purchasing uneatable gingerbread, knives that would not cut, spectacles 
 to increase blindness, and other articles of equal usefulness. 
 
 While the dealers here displayed their ware, and were vociferous in 
 declaring its excellence, noisy groups passed up and down on either 
 side of these ambulatory shops, discussing the merits of the candi- 
 dates, predicting the result of the election, or giving an occasional 
 cheer for their respective parties, with a twirl of a stick or the throwing 
 up of a hat ; while from the houses on both sides of the street the 
 scraping of fiddles, and the lilting of pipes increased the mingled din. 
 
 But the crowd was thickest and the uproar greatest in front of the 
 inn where Scatterbrain's committee sat, and before the house of Murphy, 
 who gave up all his establishment to the service of the election, and 
 whose stable-yard made a capital place of mustering for the tallies of 
 Egan's electors to assemble ere they marched to the poll. — At last the 
 hour for opening the poll struck, the inn poured forth the Scatterbrains, 
 and Murphy's stable-yard the Eganites, the two bodies of electors 
 uttering thundering shouts of defiance, as, with rival banners flying, they 
 joined in one common stream, rushing to give their votes, — for as for 
 their voices, they were giving them most liberally and strenuously 
 already. The dense crowd soon surrounded the hustings in front of the 
 court-house, and the throes and heavings of this living mass resembled 
 a turbulent sea lashed by a tempest : — but what sea is more unruly 
 than an excited crowd? — what tempest fiercer than the breath of 
 political excitement 1 
 
 Conspicuous amongst those on the hustings were both the candidates 
 and their aiders and abettors on either side ; O'Grady and Furlong, 
 Dick Dawson and Tom Durfy for work, and Growling to laugh at them 
 all. Edward O'Connor was addressing the populace in a spirit-stirring 
 appeal to their pride and affections, stimulating them to support their 
 tried and trusty friend, and not yield the honour of their county either 
 to fear or favours of a stranger, nor copy the bad example which some 
 (who ought to blush) had set them, of betraying old friends and aban- 
 doning old principles. Edward's address was cheered by those who 
 heard it : — but being heard is not essential to the applause attendant on 
 political addresses, for those who do not hear cheer quite as much as 
 those who do. The old adage hath it, " Show me your company, and 
 I'll tell you who you are;" — and, in the spirit of the adage, one might 
 say, " Let me see the speech-maker, and I'll tell you what he says." 
 So, when Edward O'Connor spoke, the boys welcomed him with the 
 shout of " Ned of the Hill for ever," — and knowing to what tunG his 
 
 m 2 
 
161 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 mouth would be opened, they cheered accordingly when he con- 
 cluded. — O'Grady, on evincing a desire to address them, was not so 
 successful ; — the moment he showed himself, taunts were flung at him ; 
 but spite of this, attempting to frown down their dissatisfaction, he 
 began to speak ; but he had not uttered six words when his voice was 
 drowned in the discordant yells of a trumpet. It is scarcely necessary 
 to tell the reader that the performer was the identical trumpeter of the 
 preceding day, whom O'Grady had kicked so unmercifully, who, in 
 indignation at his wrongs, had gone over to the enemy ; and having, after 
 a night's hard work, disengaged the cork which Andy had crammed into 
 his trumpet, appeared in the crowd ready to do battle in the popular 
 cause. — " Wait," he cried, " till that savage of a baste of a squire dares 
 for to go for to spake ! — won't I smother him !" Then he would put his 
 instrument of vengeance to his lips, and produce a yell that made his 
 auditors put their hands to their ears. Thus armed, he waited near 
 the platform for O'Grady's speech, and put his threat effectually into 
 execution. O'Grady saw whence the annoyance proceeded, and shook 
 his fist at the delinquent, with protestations that the police should drag 
 him from the crowd, if he dared to continue — but every threat was 
 blighted in the bud by a withering blast of the trumpet, which was 
 regularly followed by a peal of laughter from the crowd. O'Grady 
 stamped and swore with rage, and calling Furlong, sent him to inform 
 the sheriff how riotous the crowd were, and requested him to have the 
 trumpeter seized. 
 
 Furlong hurried off on his mission, and after a long search for the 
 potential functionary, saw him in a distant corner engaged in what 
 appeared to be an urgent discussion between him and Murtough 
 Murphy, who was talking in the most jocular manner to the sheriff, who 
 seemed any thing but amused with his argumentative merriment. The 
 fact was, Murphy, while pushing the interests of Egan with an energy un- 
 surpassed, did it all with the utmost mirthfulness, and gave his opponents 
 a laugh in exchange for the point gained against them, and while he 
 defeated, amused them. Furlong, after shoving and elbowing his way 
 through the crowd, suffering from heat and exertion, came fussing up to 
 the sheriff, wiping his face with a scented cambric pocket handkerchief. 
 The sheriff and Murphy were standing close beside one of the polling 
 desks, and on Furlong's lisping out " Miste' Shewiff," Murphy, recog- 
 nising the voice and manner, turned suddenly round, and with the most 
 provoking cordiality addressed him thus, with a smile and a nod : 
 
 " Ah ! Mister Furlong, how d'ye do ? delighted to see you — here 
 we are at it, sir, hammer and tongs— of course you are come to vote 
 for Egan." 
 
 Furlong, who intended to annihilate Murphy with an indignant 
 repetition of the provoking question put to him, threw as much of 
 defiance as he could into his namby pamby manner, and exclaimed — 
 
 "/vote for Egan ?" 
 
 " Thank you, sir," said Murphy. " Record the vote," added he to 
 the clerk. 
 
 There was loud laughter on one side, and anger as loud on the other, 
 at the way in which Murphy had entrapped Furlong, and cheated him 
 
HANDY ANDY. 165 
 
 into voting against his own party, in vain the poor gull protested he 
 never meant to vote for Egan. 
 
 " But you did it," cried Murphy. 
 
 " What the deuce have you done ? " cried Scatterbrain's agent, in a 
 rage. 
 
 " Of course, they know I wouldn't vote that way," said Furlong. " I 
 covldnt vote that way — it's a mistake, and I pwotest against the twick." 
 
 " We've got the trick, and we'll keep it, however," said Murphy. 
 
 Scatterbrain's agent said 'twas unfair, and desired the polling-clerk 
 not to record the vote. 
 
 " Didn't every one hear him say, ' / vote for Egan V " asked Murphy. 
 
 " But he didn't mean it, sir," said the agent. 
 
 " I don't care what he meant, but I know he said it," retorted 
 Murphy ; " and every one round knows he said it ; and as I mean 
 what I say myself, I suppose every other gentleman does the same — 
 down with the vote, Mister polling-clerk." 
 
 A regular wrangle now took place between the two agents, amidst 
 the laughter of the bystanders, whose merriment was increased by 
 Furlong's vehement assurances he did not mean to vote as Murphy 
 wanted to make it appear he had ; but the more he protested the more 
 the people laughed. This increased his energy in fighting out the 
 point, until Scatterbrain's agent recommended him to desist, &r that he 
 was only interrupting their own voters from coming up. " Never mind 
 now, sir," said the agent, " I'll appeal to the assessor about that vote." 
 
 " Appeal as much as you like," said Murtough ; " that vote is as 
 dead as a herring to you." 
 
 Furlong finding further remonstrance unavailing, as regarded his 
 vote, delivered to the sheriff the message of O'Grady, who was boiling 
 over with impatience, in the meantime, at the delay of his messenger, 
 and anxiously expecting the arrival of sheriff and police to coerce the 
 villanous trumpeter and chastise the applauding crowd, which became 
 worse and worse every minute. 
 
 They exhibited a new source of provocation to O'Grady, by exposing 
 a rat-trap hung at the end of a pole, with the caged vermin within, and 
 vociferated " Rat, rat," in the pauses of the trumpet. Scatterbrain 
 remembering the hearing they gave him the previous day, hoped to 
 silence them, and begged O'Grady to permit him to address them ; but 
 the whim of the mob was up, and could not be easily diverted, and 
 Scatterbrain himself was hailed with the name of "Rat-catcher." 
 
 " You cotch him — and I wish you joy of him ! " cried one. 
 
 " How much did you give for him '?" shouted another. 
 
 " What did you bait your thrap with V roared a third. 
 
 " A bit o' threasury bacon," was the answer from a stentorian voice 
 amidst the multitude, who shouted with laughter at the apt rejoinder, 
 which they reiterated from one end of the crowd to the other, and the 
 cry of " threasury bacon" rang far and wide. 
 
 Scatterbrain and O'Grady consulted together on the hustings what 
 was to be done, while Dick the Devil was throwing jokes to the crowd, 
 and inflaming their mischievous merriment, and Growling looking on 
 with an expression of internal delight at the fun, uproar, and vexation 
 
166 HANDY ANDY, 
 
 around him. It was just a dish to his taste, and he devoured it with 
 silent satisfaction. 
 
 " What the deuce keeps that sneaking dandy ? " cried O'Grady to 
 Scatterbrain. " He should have returned long ago." — Oh ! could he 
 have only known at that moment, that his sweet son-in-law elect was 
 voting against them, what would have been the consequence ! 
 
 Another exhibition, insulting to O'Grady, now appeared in the crowd, 
 — a chimney-pot and weathercock, after the fashion of his mother's, 
 was stuck on a pole, and underneath was suspended an old coat turned 
 inside out; this double indication of his change, so peculiarly insulting, 
 was elevated before the hustings amidst the jeers and laughter of the 
 people. O'Grady was nearly frantic — he rushed to the front of the 
 platform, he shook his fist at the mockery, poured every abusive epi- 
 thet on its perpetrators, and swore he would head the police himself and 
 clear the crowd. In reply the crowd hooted, the rat-trap and weather- 
 cock were danced together after the fashion of Punch and Judy, to the 
 music of the trumpet ; and another pole made its appearance, with a 
 piece of bacon on it, and a placard bearing the inscription of " Treasury 
 bacon," all which Tom Durfy had run off to procure at a huckster's 
 shop, the moment he heard the waggish answer which he thus turned 
 to account. 
 
 " The military must be called out !" said O'Grady ; and with these 
 words he left the platform to seek the sheriff. 
 
 Edward O'Connor, the moment he heard O'Grady's threat, quitted 
 the hustings also, in company with old Growling. 
 
 " What a savage and dangerous temper that man has !" said Edward; 
 " calling for the military when the people have committed no outrage to 
 require such interference." 
 
 " They have poked up the bear with their poles, sir, and it is likely 
 he'll give them a hug before he's done with them," answered the 
 doctor. 
 
 " But what need of military ? " indignantly exclaimed Edward. 
 " The people are only going on with the noise and disturbance common 
 to any election, and the chances are, that savage man may influence 
 the sheriff to provoke the people, by the presence of soldiers, to some 
 act which would not have taken place but for their interference, and 
 thus they themselves originate the offence which they are fore-armed 
 with power to chastise. In England such extreme measures are never 
 resorted to, until necessity compels them. How I have envied English- 
 men, when on the occasion of assizes every soldier is marched from the 
 town while the judge is sitting ; in Ireland the place of trial bristles with 
 bayonets ! How much more must a people respect and love the laws, 
 whose own purity and justice are their best safeguard ! whose inherent 
 majesty is sufficient for their own protection ! The sword of justice should 
 never need the assistance of the swords of dragoons, and in the election 
 of their representatives, as well as at judicial sittings, a people should 
 be free from military despotism. 
 
 " But, as an historian, my dear young friend," said the doctor, " I 
 need not remind you that dragoons have been considered ' good 
 lookers-on ' in Ireland since the days of Strafford." 
 
7/ .& 
 
 
HANDY ANDY. 167 
 
 " Ay !" said Edward ; " and scandalous it is, that the abuses of the 
 seventeenth century should be perpetuated in the nineteenth.* While 
 those who govern show, by the means they adopt for supporting their 
 authority, that their rule requires undue force to uphold it, they tacitly 
 teach resistance to the people, and their practices imply that the resist- 
 ance is righteous," 
 
 " My dear Master Ned," said the doctor, " you're a patriot, and I'm 
 sorry for you ; you inherit the free opinions of your namesake ' of the 
 hill ' of blessed memory ; with such sentiments you may make a very 
 good Irish barrister, but you'll never be an Irish judge — and as for a 
 silk gown, 'faith you may leave the wearing of that to your wife, for 
 stuff is all that will ever adorn your shoulders." 
 
 " Well, I would rather have stuff there, than in my head," answered 
 Edward. 
 
 " Very epigrammatic, indeed, Master Ned," said the doctor. " Let 
 us make a distich of it," added he, with a chuckle ; " for, of a verity, 
 some of the K. C.'s of our times are but dunces. — Let's see — how will 
 it go?" 
 
 Edward dashed off this couplet in a moment — 
 
 " Of modern king's counsel this truth may be said, 
 They have silk on their shoulders, but stuff in their head." 
 
 " Neat enough," said the doctor ; " but you might contrive more 
 sting in it ; — something to the tune of the impossibility of making 
 ' a silk purse out of a sow's ear,' but the facility of manufacturing 
 silk gowns out of bore's heads." 
 
 " That's out of your bitter pill-box, Doctor," said Ned, smiling. 
 
 " Put it into rhyme, Ned — and set it to music — and dedicate it to 
 the bar mess, and see how you'll rise in your profession ! — Good-b'ye — 
 I will be back again to see the fun as soon as I can, but I must go now 
 and visit an old woman who is in doubt whether she stands most in need 
 of me or the priest. — It's wonderful, how little people think of the other 
 world till they are going to leave this ; and with all their praises of 
 heaven, how very anxious they are to stay out of it as long as they can !" 
 
 With this bit of characteristic sarcasm, the doctor and Edward 
 separated. Edward had hardly left the hustings, when Murphy 
 hurried on the platform and asked for him. 
 
 " He left, a few minutes ago," said Tom Durfy. 
 
 " Well, I dare say he's doing good, wherever he is," said Murtough ; 
 " I wanted to speak to him, but when he comes back send him to me. — 
 In the mean time, Tom, run down and bring up a good batch of voters 
 — we're getting a little a-head, I think, with the bothering I'm giving 
 them up there, and now I want to push them with good strong tallies 
 — run down to the yard, like a good fellow, and march them up." 
 
 Off posted Tom Durfy on his mission, and Murphy returned to the 
 court-house. 
 
 * When Strafford's infamous project of the wholesale robbery of Connaught was 
 put in practice, not being quite certain of his juries, he writes that he will send 300 
 horse to the province during the proceedings, " as good lookers-on." 
 
168 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 Tom, on reaching Murphy's house, found a strong posse of O'Grady's 
 party hanging round the place, and one of the fellows had backed a car 
 against the yard gate which opened on the street, and was the outlet for 
 Egan's voters. By way of excuse for this, the car was piled with 
 cabbages for sale, and a couple of very unruly pigs were tethered to the 
 shafts, and the strapping fellow who owned all, kept guard over them. 
 Tom immediately told him he should leave that place, and an alterca- 
 tion commenced ; but even an electioneering dispute could not but 
 savour of fun and repartee, between Paddies. 
 
 " Be off," said Tom. 
 
 " Sure I can't be off till the market's over," was the answer. 
 
 " Well, you must take your car out of this." 
 
 " Indeed now, you'll let me stay, Misther Durfy." 
 
 " Indeed I won'tV 
 
 " Arrah ! what harm V 
 
 " You're stopping up the gate on purpose, and you must go." 
 
 " Sure your honour wouldn't spile my stand !" 
 
 " Faith. I'll spoil more than your stand, if you don't leave that." 
 
 " Not finer cabbage in the world." 
 
 " Go out o' that now, ' while your shoes are good,' "* said Tom, 
 seeing he had none ; for in speaking of shoes, Tom had no intention of 
 alluding to the word choux, and thus making a French pun upon the 
 cabbage, — for Tom did not understand French, but rather despised it as a 
 jack-a-dandy acquirement. 
 
 " Sure, you wouldn't ruin my market, Misther Durfy !" 
 
 "None of your humbugging — but be off at once," said Tom, whose 
 tone indicated he was very much in earnest. 
 
 ■ " Not a nicer slip of a pig in the market than the same pigs — I'm 
 expectin' thirty shillin's a piece for them." 
 
 "Faith, you'll get more than thirty shillings," cried Tom, "in less 
 than thirty seconds, if you don't take your dirty cabbages and black- 
 guard pigs out o' that!" 
 
 " Dirty cabbages !" echoed the fellow, in a tone of surprise. 
 
 The order to depart was renewed. 
 
 " Blackguard pigs !" cried Paddy, in affected wonder. — "Ah, Masther 
 Tom, one would think it was afther dinner you wor." 
 
 " What do you mean, you rap ? — do you intend to say I'm drunk?" 
 
 " Oh no, sir ! — But if it's not afther dinner wid you, I think you 
 wouldn't turn up your nose at bacon and greens." 
 
 " Oh, with all your joking," said Tom, laughing, " you won't find me a 
 chicken to pluck for your bacon and greens, my boy ; so, start ! — vanish ! 
 — disperse ! — my bacon merchant ! " 
 
 While this dialogue was going forward, several cars were gathered round 
 the place, with a seeming view to hem in Egan's voters, and interrupt 
 their progress to the poll ; but the gate of the yard suddenly opened, and 
 the fellows within soon upset the car which impeded their egress, gave 
 freedom to the pigs, who used their liberty in eating the cabbages, while 
 their owner was making cause with his party of O'Gradyites against the 
 
 * A saying among the Irish peasantry, — meaning, there is danger in delay. 
 
HANDY ANDY. . 169 
 
 outbreak of Egan's men. The affair was not one of importance ; the 
 numbers were not sufficient to constitute a good row — it was but a 
 hustling affair, after all, and a slight scrimmage enabled Tom Durfy 
 to head his men in a rush to the poll. 
 
 The polling was now prosecuted vigorously on both sides, each party 
 anxious to establish a majority on the first day ; and of course the usual 
 practices for facilitating their own, and retarding their opponent's pro- 
 gress, were resorted to. 
 
 Scatterbrain's party, to counteract the energetic movement of the 
 enemy's voters, and Murphy's activity, got up a mode of interruption 
 seldom made use of, but of which they availed themselves on the present 
 occasion. It was determined to put the oath of allegiance to all the 
 Roman Catholics, by which some loss of time to the Eganite party was 
 effected. 
 
 This gave rise to odd scenes and answers, occasionally ; — some of the 
 fellows did not know what the oath of allegiance meant ; some did not 
 know whether there might not be a scruple of conscience against taking 
 it ; others, indignant at what they felt to be an insulting mode of address, 
 on the part of the person who said to them, in a tone savouring of 
 supremacy — " You're a Roman Catholic," — would not answer imme- 
 diately, and gave dogged looks, and sometimes dogged answers ; and it 
 required address on the part of Egan's agents to make them overcome 
 such feelings, and expedite the work of voting. At last, the same 
 herculean fellow who gave O'Grady the fierce answer about the blun- 
 derbuss tenure he enjoyed, came up to vote, and fairly bothered the 
 querist with his ready replies, which, purposely, were never to the 
 purpose ; — the examination ran nearly thus : 
 
 " You're a Roman Catholic ?" 
 
 " Am I ?" said the fellow. 
 
 " Are you not ?" demanded the agent. 
 
 " You say I am," was the answer. 
 
 " Come, sir, answer — What's your religion ?" 
 
 " The thrue religion." 
 
 " What religion is that?" 
 
 " My religion." 
 
 " And what's your religion V 
 
 " My mother's religion." 
 
 " And what was your mother's religion ?" 
 
 " She tuk whisky in her tay." 
 
 " Come, now, I'll find you out, as cunning as you are," said the 
 agent, piqued into an encounter of the wits with this fellow, whose 
 baffling of every question pleased the crowd. 
 
 " You bless yourself, don't you?" 
 
 " When I'm done with you, I think I ought." 
 
 " What place of worship do you go to ?" 
 
 " The most convaynient." 
 
 " But of what persuasion are you ?" 
 
 " My persuasion is that you won't find it out." 
 
 " What is your belief?" 
 
 " My belief is that you're puzzled." 
 
1( 70 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 " Do you confess ?" 
 
 " Not to you." 
 
 " Come ! now I havp you. Who would you send for if you were 
 likely to die ?" 
 
 " Docthor Growlin'." 
 
 " Not for the priest?" 
 
 " I must first get a messenger." 
 
 " Confound you're quibbhng! — tell me, then, what your opinions 
 are — your conscientious opinions, I mean ?" 
 
 " They are the same as my landlord's." 
 
 " And what are your landlord's opinions ?" 
 
 '* Faix, his opinion is, that I won't pay him the last half-year's rint ; 
 and I'm of the same opinion myself." 
 
 A roar of laughter followed this answer, and dumb-foundered the 
 agent for a time ; but, angered at the successful quibbling of the sturdy 
 and wily fellow before him, he at last declared, with much severity of 
 manner, that he must have a direct reply. " I insist, sir, on your an- 
 swering, at once, are you a Roman Catholic ?" 
 
 " I am," said the fellow. 
 
 " And could you not say so at once ?" repeated the officer. 
 
 " You never axed me ?" returned the other. 
 
 " I did," said the officer. 
 
 " Indeed, you didn't. You said I was a great many things, but you 
 never axed me — you wor dhrivin' crass words and cruked questions at 
 me, and I gev you answers to match them, for sure I thought it was 
 manners to cut out my behavor on your own patthern." 
 
 " Take the oath, sir !" 
 
 " Where am I to take it to, sir ?" inquired the provoking blackguard. 
 
 The clerk was desired to " swear him" without further notice being 
 taken of his impertinent answer. 
 
 " I hope the oath is not woighty, sir, for my conscience is tindher 
 since the last alibi I swore." 
 
 The business of the interior was now suspended for a time by the 
 sounds of fierce tumult which arose from without. Some rushed from 
 the court-house to the platform outside, and beheld the crowd in a state 
 of great excitement, beating back the police, who had been engaged 
 in endeavouring to seize the persons and things which had offended 
 O'Grady; and the police, falling back for support on a party of military 
 which O'Grady had prevailed on the sheriff to call out. The sheriff 
 was a weak, irresolute man, and was over-persuaded by such words as 
 " mob" and " riot," and breaches of peace being about to be committed, if 
 the ruffians were not checked before-hand. The wisdom of preventive 
 measures was preached, and the rest of the hacknied phrases were 
 paraded, which brazen-faced and iron-handed oppressors are only too 
 familiar with. 
 
 The people were now roused, and thoroughly defeated the police, 
 who were forced to fly to the lines of the military party for pro- 
 tection ; having effected this object, the crowd retained their position, 
 and did not attempt to assault the soldiers, though a very firm and 
 
HANDY ANDY. 171 
 
 lowering front was presented to them, and shouts of defiance against the 
 " Peelers"* rose loud and long. 
 
 " A round of ball cartridge would cool their courage," said O'Grady. 
 
 The English officer in command of the party, looking with wonder 
 and reproach upon him, asked if he had the command of the party. 
 
 " No, sir ; — the sheriff, of course ; — but if I were in his place, I'd 
 soon disperse the rascals." 
 
 " Did you ever witness the effect of a fusilade, sir?" inquired the 
 officer. 
 
 " No, sir," said O'Grady, gruffly; " but I suppose I know pretty well 
 what it is." 
 
 " For the sake of humanity, sir," I hope you do not, or I am willing 
 to believe you would not talk so lightly of it ; but it is singular how 
 much fonder civilians are of urging measures that end in blood, than 
 those whose profession is arms, and who know how disastrous is their 
 use." 
 
 The police were ordered to advance again and seize the " ringleaders :" 
 they obeyed, unwillingly ; but being saluted with some stones, their in- 
 dividual wrath was excited, and they advanced to chastise the mob, who 
 again drove them back ; and a nearer approach to the soldiers was made 
 by the crowd in the scuffle which ensued. 
 
 " Now, will you fire ?" said O'Grady to the sheriff. 
 
 The sheriff, who was a miserable coward, was filled with dread at the 
 threatening aspect of the mob, and wished to have his precious person 
 under shelter before hostilities commenced ; so, with pallid lips, and his 
 teeth chattering with fear, he exclaimed : 
 
 " No ! no ! no ! — don't fire — don't fire — don't be precipitate : besides, 
 I hav'n't read the Riot Act." 
 
 " There's no necessity for firing, sir, T should say," said the captain. 
 
 " I thought not, captain — I hope not, captain," said the sheriff, who 
 now assumed a humane tone. " Think of the effusion of blood, my dear 
 sir!" said he to O'Grady, who was grinning like a fiend all the time — 
 " the sacrifice of human life — I couldn't, sir — I can't, sir — besides, the 
 Riot Act — hav'n't it about me — must be read, you know, Mister 
 O'Grady." 
 
 " Not always," said O'Grady, fiercely. 
 
 " But the inquiry is always very strict after, if it is not, sir — 
 I should not like the effusion of human blood, sir, unless the Riot Act was 
 read, and the thing done regularly — don't think I care for the d — d 
 rascals, a button, sir, — only the regularity, you know ; and the effusion 
 of human blood is serious, and the inquiry, too, without the Riot Act. — 
 Captain, would you oblige me to fall back a little closer round the court- 
 house, and maintain the freedom of election. — Besides, the Riot Act is up 
 stairs, in my desk. — The court-house must be protected, you know, and 
 I just want to run up stairs for the Riot Act ; I'll be down again in a 
 moment. — Captain, do oblige me — draw your men a leetle closer round 
 the court-house." 
 
 * The name given to the police by the people — the force being first established 
 by Sir Robert Peel, then Mr. Peel, Secretary for Ireland. 
 
172 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 " I'm in a better position here, sir," said the captain. 
 
 " I thought, sir, you were under my command, sir," said the sheriff. 
 
 lt Under your command to fire, sir, but the choice of position rests 
 with me ; and we are stronger where we are, the court-house is com- 
 pletely covered, and while my men are under arms here, you may rely 
 on it the crowd is completely in check without firing a shot." 
 
 Off ran the sheriff to the court-house. 
 
 " You're saving of your gunpowder, I see, sir," said O'Grady to the 
 captain, with a sardonic grin. 
 
 " You seem to be equally sparing of your humanity, sir,'' returned 
 the captain. 
 
 " God forbid I should be afraid of a pack of ruffians," said O'Grady. 
 
 " Or I of a single one," returned the captain, with a look of stern 
 contempt. 
 
 There is no knowing what this bitter bandying of hard words might 
 have led to, had it not been interrupted by the appearance of the sheriff 
 at one of the windows of the court-house ; there, with the Riot Act in his 
 hand, he called out : — 
 
 " Now I've read it — fire away, boys — fire away!" and all his com- 
 punction about the effusion of blood vanished the moment his own 
 miserable carcase was safe from harm. Again he waived the Riot Act 
 from the window, and vociferated, " Fire away, boys," as loud as his 
 frog-like voice permitted. 
 
 " Now, sir, you're ordered to fire," said O'Grady to the captain. 
 
 " I'll not obey that order, sir,'' said the captain ; " the man is out of 
 his senses with fear, and I'll not obey such a serious command from a 
 madman." 
 
 " Do you dare disobey the orders of the sheriff, sir ?" thundered 
 O'Grady. 
 
 " I am responsible for my act, sir," said the captain — " seriously 
 responsible ; but I will not slaughter unarmed people until I see further 
 and fitter cause." 
 
 The sheriff had vanished — he was nowhere to be seen — and O'Grady 
 as a magistrate had now the command. Seeing the cool and courageous 
 man he had to deal with in the military chief, he determined to push 
 matters to such an extremity that he should be forced, in self-defence, to 
 fire. With this object in view he ordered a fresh advance of the police 
 upon the people, and in this third affair matters assumed a more se- 
 rious aspect ; sticks and stones were used with more effect, and the two 
 parties being nearer to each other, the missiles meant only for the 
 police, overshot their mark and struck the soldiers, who bore their pain- 
 ful situation with admirable patience. 
 
 " Now will you fire, sir ?" said O'Grady to the officer. 
 
 " If I fire now, sir, I am as likely to kill the police as the people ; 
 withdraw your police first, sir, and then I will fire." 
 
 This was but reasonable — so reasonable, that even O'Grady, enraged 
 almost to madness, as he was, could not gainsay it ; and he went forward 
 himself to withdraw the police force. — O'Grady 's presence increased the 
 rage of the mob, whose blood was now thoroughly up, and as the police 
 fell back they were pressed by the infuriated people, who now began 
 
HANDY ANDY. 173 
 
 almost to disregard the presence of the military, and poured down in a 
 resistless stream upon them. 
 
 O'Grady repeated his command to the captain, who, finding matters 
 thus driven to extremity, saw no longer the possibility of avoiding 
 bloodshed ; and the first preparatory word of the fatal order was given, 
 the second on his lips, and the long file of bright muskets flashed 
 in the sun ere they should quench his light for ever to some, and carry 
 darkness to many a heart and hearth, when a young and handsome 
 man, mounted on a noble horse, came plunging and ploughing his way 
 through the crowd, and, rushing between the half-levelled muskets and 
 those who in another instant would have fallen their victims, he shouted 
 in a voice whose noble tone carried to its hearers involuntary obedience, 
 " Stop ! — for God's sake, stop !" Then wheeling his horse suddenly 
 round, he charged along the advancing front of the people, plunging 
 his horse fiercely upon them, and waving them back with his hand, 
 enforcing his commands with words as well as actions. The crowd fell 
 back as he pressed upon them with a fiery horsemanship unsurpassable 
 by an Arab ; and as his dark clustering hair streamed about his noble 
 face, pale from excitement, and with flashing eyes, he was a model 
 worthy of the best days of Grecian art — ay, and he had a soul worthy 
 of the most glorious times of Grecian liberty ! 
 It was Edward O'Connor. 
 " Fire !" cried O'Grady, again. 
 
 The gallant soldier, touched by the heroism of O'Connor, and roused 
 by the brutality of O'Grady beyond his patience, in the excitement of 
 the moment, was urged beyond the habitual parlance of a gentleman, 
 and swore vehemently, " I'll be damned if I do ! I wouldn't run the 
 risk of shooting that noble fellow for all the magistrates in your 
 county." 
 
 O'Connor had again turned round, and rode up to the military party, 
 having heard the word ' fire !' repeated. 
 
 " For mercy sake, sir, don't fire, and I pledge you my soul the crowd 
 shall disperse." 
 
 " Ay !" cried O'Grady, " they won't obey the laws nor the magis- 
 trates ; but they'll listen fast enough to a d — d rebel like you." 
 
 "Liar and -ruffian ! " exclaimed Edward, "I'm a better and more 
 loyal subject than you, who provoke resistance to the laws you should 
 make honoured." 
 
 At the word " liar," O'Grady, now quite frenzied, attempted to seize 
 a musket from a soldier beside him ; and had he succeeded in obtaining 
 possession of it, Edward O'Connor's days had been numbered ; but the 
 soldier would not give up his firelock, and O'Grady, intent on imme- 
 diate vengeance, then rushed upon Edward, and seizing him by the leg, 
 attempted to unhorse him, but Edward was too firm in his seat for this, 
 and a struggle ensued. 
 
 The crowd, fearing Edward was about to fall a victim, raised a fierce 
 shout, and were about to advance, when the captain, with admirable 
 presence of mind, seized O'Grady, dragged him away from his hold, 
 and gave freedom to Edward, who instantly used it again to charge the 
 advancing line of the mob, and drive them back. 
 
174 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 " Back, boys, back !" he cried, " don't give your enemies a triumph 
 by being disorderly. Disperse — retire into houses, let nothing tempt you 
 to riot — collect round your tally rooms, and come up quietly to the 
 polling — and you will yet have a peaceful triumph." 
 
 The crowd, obeying, gave three cheers for " Ned-o'-the-Hill," and the 
 dense mass, which could not be awed, and dreaded not the engines of 
 war, melted away before the breath of peace. 
 
 As they retired on one side, the soldiers were ordered to their 
 quarters on the other, while their captain and Edward O'Connor stood 
 in the midst ; but ere they separated, these two, with charity in their 
 souls, waved their hands towards each other in token of amity, and 
 parted, verily, in friendship. 
 
HANDY ANDY. 175 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 After the incidents just recorded, of course great confusion and 
 excitement existed, during which O'Grady was forced back into the 
 court-house, in a state bordering on insanity. Inflamed as his furious 
 passions had been to the top of their bent, and his thirst of revenge still 
 remaining unslaked, foiled in all his movements, and flung back as it 
 were into the seething cauldron of his own hellish temper, he was a 
 pitiable sight, foaming at the mouth like a wild animal, and uttering 
 the most horrid imprecations. On Edward O'Connor principally his 
 curses fell, with denunciations of immediate vengeance, and the punish- 
 ment of dismissal from the service was prophesied on oath for the 
 English captain. The terrors of a court-martial gleamed fitfully 
 through the frenzied mind of the raving squire for the soldier ; and for 
 O'Connor, instant death at his own hand was his momentary cry. 
 
 " Find the rascal for me," he exclaimed, " that I may call him out 
 
 and shoot him like a dog — yes, by , a dog — a dog : I'm disgraced 
 
 while he lives — I wish the villain had three lives, that I might take 
 them all at once — all — all ! — " and he stretched out his hands as he 
 spoke, and grasped at the air as if in imagination he clutched the 
 visionary lives his bloodthirsty wishes conjured up. 
 
 Edward, as soon as he saw the crowd dispersed, returned to the 
 hustings, and sought Dick Dawson, that he might be in readiness to 
 undertake, on his part, the arrangement of the hostile meeting, to 
 which he knew he should be immediately called. " Let it be over, my 
 dear Dick, as soon as possible," said Edward ; " it is not a case in which 
 delay can be of any service ; the insult was mortal between us, and the 
 sooner expiated by a meeting the better." 
 
 " Don't be so agitated, Ned," said Dick ; " fair and easy, man, fair 
 and easy — keep yourself cool." 
 
 " Dear Dick — I'll be cool on the ground, but not till then, — I want 
 the meeting over before my father hears of the quarrel — I'm his only 
 child, Dick, and you know how he loves me !" 
 
 He wrung Dick's hand as he spoke, and his eye glistened with 
 tenderness, but with the lightning quickness of thought all gentle 
 feeling vanished, as he saw Scatterbrain struggling his way towards 
 him, and read in his eye the purport of his approach. He communi- 
 cated to Edward his object in seeking him, and was at once referred to 
 Dawson, who instantly retired with him, and arranged an immediate 
 meeting. This was easily done, as they had their pistols with them 
 since the duel in the morning; and if there be those who think it a 
 little too much of a good thing to have two duels in one day, pray let 
 them remember it was election time, and even in sober England, that 
 
176 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 period often gives rise to personalities which call for the intervention 
 of the code of honour. Only in Ireland, the thing is sooner over. 
 We seldom have three columns of a newspaper filled with notes on the 
 subject, numbered from 1 to 25. Gentlemen don't consider" whether 
 it is too soon or too late to fight, or whether a gentleman is perfectly 
 entitled to call him out or not. The title in Ireland is generally con- 
 sidered sufficient in the ivill to do it, and few there would wait for the 
 poising of a very delicately balanced scale of etiquette before going to 
 the ground ; they would be more likely to fight first, and leave the 
 world to argue about the niceties after. 
 
 In the present instance, a duel was unavoidable, and it was to be 
 feared a mortal one, for deadly insult had been given on both sides. 
 
 The rumour of the hostile meeting flew like wildfire through the 
 town ; and when the parties met in a field about a quarter of a mile 
 beyond the bridge, an anxious crowd was present. The police were 
 obliged to be in strong force on the ground, to keep back the people, 
 who were not now, as an hour before, in the town, in uproarious noise 
 and action, but still as death ; — not a murmur was amongst them — 
 the excitement of love for the noble young champion, whose life was in 
 danger for his care of them, held them spell-bound in a tranquillity 
 almost fearful. 
 
 The aspect of the two principals was in singular contrast ; — on the 
 one side, a man burning for revenge, who, to use a common, but terrible 
 parlance, desired to " wash out the dishonour put upon him in blood." 
 The other was there, regretting that cause existed for the awful arbitre- 
 ment, and only anxious to defend his own, not take another's life. 
 To sensitive minds the reaction is always' painful of having insulted 
 another, when the excitement is over which prompted it : when the hot 
 blood whicli inflamed the brain runs in cooler currents, the man of 
 feeling always regrets, if he does not reproach himself, with having 
 urged his fellow-man to break the commandments of the Most High, and 
 deface, perhaps annihilate, the form that was moulded in His image. 
 The words "liar and ruffian " haunted Edward's mind reproachfully; 
 — but then the provocation — " Rebel !" — No gentleman could brook it. 
 Because his commiseration for a people had endeared him to them, was 
 he to be called " rebel ?" Because, at the risk of his own life, he 
 had preserved perhaps scores, and prevented an infraction of the law, 
 was he to be called "rebel?" He stood acquitted before his own con- 
 science — after all, the most terrible bar before which we can be called. 
 
 The men were placed upon their ground, and the word to fire given. 
 O'Grady, in his desire for vengeance, raised his pistol deliberately, with 
 deadly aim, and Edward was thus enabled to fire first, and with such cool 
 precision that his shot took effect as he intended ; O'Grady's pistol arm 
 was ripped up from the wrist to the elbow ; but so determined was his 
 will, and so firm his aim, that the wound, severe as it was, produced but a 
 slight twitch in his hand, which threw it up slightly, and saved Edward's 
 life, for the ball passed through his hat just above his head. 
 
 O'Grady's arm instantly after dropped to his side, the pistol fell from 
 his hand, and, he staggered, for the pain of the wound was extreme. His 
 second ran to his assistance. 
 
HANDY ANDY. 177 
 
 " It is only in the arm," said O'Grady, firmly, though his voice was 
 changed by the agony he suffered; "give me another pistol." 
 
 Dick at the same moment was beside Edward. 
 
 " You're not touched," he said. 
 
 Edward coolly pointed to his hat. 
 
 " Too much powder," said Dick ; " I thought so when his pistols 
 were loaded." 
 
 " No," said Edward, " it was my shot ; I saw his hand twitch." 
 
 Scatterbrain demanded of Dick another shot on the part of O'Grady. 
 
 " By all means," was the answer, and he handed a fresh pistol to 
 Edward. — " To give the devil his due," said Dick, " he has great pluck, 
 for you hit him hard — see how pale he looks — I don't think he can hurt 
 you much this time — but watch him well, my dear Ned." 
 
 The seconds withdrew, but with all O'Grady's desperate courage, he 
 could not lift the pistol with his right arm, which, though hastily bound 
 in a handkerchief, was bleeding profusely, and racked with torture. On 
 finding his right hand powerless, such was his unflinching courage, that 
 he took the pistol in his left ; this of course impaired his power of aim, 
 and his nerve was so shattered by his bodily suffering, that his pistol was 
 discharged before coming to the level, and Edward saw the sod torn up 
 close beside his foot. He then, of course, fired in the air. O'Grady 
 would have fallen but for the immediate assistance of his friends, he 
 was led from the ground and placed in a carriage, and it was not until 
 Edward O'Connor mounted his horse to ride away, that the crowd 
 manifested their feelings. Then three tremendous cheers arose ; and 
 the shouts of their joy and triumph reached the wounded man as he 
 was driven slowly from the ground. 
 
178 % HANDY ANDY. 
 
 CHAPTER xxr. 
 
 The widow Flanagan had long ago determined that, whenever the 
 election should take place, she would take advantage of the great influx of 
 visitors that event would produce, and give a grand party. Her pre- 
 parations were all made to secure a good muster of her country friends, 
 when once the day of nomination was fixed ; and after the election 
 begun, she threw out all her hooks and lines in every direction to catch 
 every straggler worth having whom the election brought into the town. 
 It required some days to do this ; and it was not until the eve of the 
 fifth, that her house was turned upside down and inside out for the 
 reception of the numerous guests whose company she expected. — 
 
 The toil of the day's election was over : the gentlemen had dined 
 and refreshed themselves with creature comforts ; the vicissitudes, and 
 tricks, and chances of the last twelve were hours canvassed, — when the 
 striking of many a clock, or the consultation of the pocket-dial, warned 
 those who were invited to Mrs. O'Flanagan's party, that it was time to 
 wash off the dust of the battle-field from their faces, and mount fresh 
 linen and cambrick. Those who were pleased to call themselves " good 
 fellows " declared for " another bottle ;" the faint-hearted swore that 
 an autograph invitation from Venus herself to the heathen Olympus, 
 with nectar and ambrosia for tea and bread-and-butter, could not tempt 
 them from the christian enjoyment of a feather-bed after the fag of 
 such a day ; but the preux chevaliers — those who did deserve to win a 
 fair lady — shook off sloth and their morning trousers, and taking to 
 tights and activity, hurried to the party of the buxom widow. 
 
 The widow was in her glory ; hospitable, she enjoyed receiving hei 
 friends, — mirthful, she looked forward to a long night of downright 
 sport, — coquettish, she woidd have good opportunity of letting Tom 
 Durfy see how attractive she was to the men, — while from the women her 
 love of gossip and scandal (was there ever a lady in her position without it ?) 
 would have ample gratification in the accumulated news of the county for 
 twenty miles round. She had but one large room at her command, and 
 that was given up to the dancing; and being cleared of tables, chairs, and 
 carpet, could not be considered by Mrs. Flanagan as a proper reception- 
 room for her guests, who were, therefore, received in a smaller apart- 
 ment, where tea and coffee, toast and muffins, ladies and gentlemen, 
 were all smoking hot together, and the candles on the mantel-piece 
 trickling down rivulets of fat in the most sympathetic manner, under the 
 influence of the gentle sighing of a broken pane of glass, which the 
 head of an inquiring youth in the street had stove in, while flattening 
 his nose against it, in hope of getting a glimpse of the company 
 through the opening in the window curtain. 
 
* 
 

 
HANDY ANDY. 179 
 
 At last, when the room could hold no more, the company were 
 drafted off to the dancing-room, which had only long deal forms placed 
 against the wall to rest the weary after the exertions of the jig. The 
 aforesaid forms, by-the-bye, were borrowed from the chapel : the old 
 wigsby who had the care of them for some time doubted the propriety 
 of the sacred property being put to such a profane use, until the widow's 
 arguments convinced him it was quite right, after she had given him a ten- 
 penny piece. As the dancing-room could not boast of a lustre, the 
 deficiency was supplied by tin sconces hung against the wall ; for or- 
 molu branches are not expected to be plenty in county towns. But let the 
 widow be heard for herself, as she bustled through her guests, and 
 caught a critical glance at her arrangements: "What's that you're 
 faulting now ? — is it my deal seats without cushions ? Ah ! you're a lazy 
 Larry, Bob Larkin. Cock you up with a cushion indeed ! if you sit the 
 less, you'll dance the more. Ah! Matty, I see you're eyeing my tin 
 sconces there ; well, sure they have them at the county ball, when can- 
 dlesticks are scarce, and what would you expect grander from a poor 
 lone woman 1 besides, we must have plenty of lights, or how could the 
 beaux see the girls ? — though I see, Harry Cassidy, by your sly look, 
 that you think they look as well in the dark — ah ! you divil /" — and she 
 slapped his shoulder as she ran past. "Ah! Mister Murphy, I'm de- 
 lighted to see 3 r ou ; what kept you so late ? — the election, to be sure. 
 Well, we're beating them, ain't we 1 Ah ! the old country for ever. I hope 
 Edward O'Connor will be here. Come, begin the dance ; there's the 
 piper and the fiddler in the corner as idle as a milestone without a 
 number. Tom Durfy, don't ask me to dance, for I'm engaged for the 
 next four sets." 
 
 " Oh ! but the first to me," said Tom. 
 
 " Ah ! yis, Tom, I was ; but then you know, I couldn't refuse the 
 stranger from Dublin, and the English captain that will be here by- 
 and-by ; — he's a nice man too, and long life to him, would'nt fire on 
 the people the other day ; I vow to the Virgin, all the women in the 
 room ought to kiss him when he comes in. Ah, doctor ! there you 
 are ; there's Mrs. Gubbins in the corner dying to have a chat with you ; 
 go over to her. Who's that taazing the piano there ? Ah ! James 
 Reddy, it's you I see. I hope it's in tur.'e ; 'tis only four months since 
 the tuner was here. I hope you've a new song for us, James. The 
 tuner is so scarce, Mrs. Riley, in the country — not like Dublin ; but we 
 poor country people, you know, must put up with what we can get; not 
 like you citizens, who has lashings of luxuries as easy as peas." Then, 
 in a confidential whisper, she said : '• I hope your daughter has prac- 
 tised the new piece well to-day, for I couldn't be looking after her, you 
 know, to-day, being in such a bustle ; with my party 1 was just like a 
 dog in a fair, in and out everywhere ; but I hope she's perfect in the 
 piece;" then, still more confidentially, she added : " for he's here — 
 ah ! / wish it was, Mrs. Riley ;" then, with a nod and a wink, off she 
 rattled through the room with a word for every body. 
 
 The Mrs. Riley, to whom she was so confidential, was a friend from 
 Dublin, an atrociously vulgar woman, with a more vulgar daughter, 
 who were on a visit with Mrs. Flanagan. The widow and the mother 
 
180 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 thought Murtough Murphy would he a good speculation for the daughter 
 to " cock her cap at," (to use their own phrase,) and with this view, the 
 visit to the country was projected. But matters did not prosper ; Murphy 
 was not much of a marrying man ; and if ever he might be caught in 
 the toils of Hymen, some frank, joyous, unaffected, dashing girl would 
 have been the only one likely to serve a writ on the jovial attorney's 
 heart. Now Miss Riley was, to use Murtough Murphy's own phrase, 
 '' a batch of brass and a stack of affectation," and the airs she attempted 
 to play off on the country folk, Murphy in particular, only made her 
 an object for his mischievous merriment: as an example, we may as 
 well touch on one little incident en passant. 
 
 The widow had planned one day a walking party to a picturesque 
 ruin, not very far from the town, and determined that Murphy should 
 give his arm to Miss Riley ; for the party was arranged in couples, with 
 a most deadly design on the liberty of the attorney. At the appointed 
 hour, all had arrived but Murphy ; the widow thought it a happy 
 chance, so she hurried off the party, leaving Miss Riley to wait and 
 follow under his escort. In about a quarter of an hour he came, having 
 met the widow in the street, who sent him back for Miss Riley. Now 
 Murtough saw the trap which was intended for him, and thought it fair 
 to make what fun he could out of the affair, and, being already sickened 
 by various disgusting exhibitions of the damsel's affectation, he had the 
 less scruple of " taking her down a peg," as he said himself. 
 
 When Murtough reached the house and asked for Miss Riley, he 
 was ushered into the little drawing-room ; and there was that very full- 
 blown young lady, on a chair before the fire, her left foot resting on the 
 fender, her right crossed over it, and her body thrown back in a re- 
 clining attitude, with a sentimental droop of the head over a greasy 
 novel : her figure was rather developed by her posture, indeed, more 
 so than Miss Riley quite intended, for her ankles were not unexcep- 
 tionable, and the position of her feet revealed rather more. A bonnet 
 and green veil lay on the hearth-rug, and her shawl hung over the 
 handle of the fire-shovel. When Murphy entered, he was received 
 with a faint " How d' do ? " 
 
 " Pretty well, I thank you ; how are you ?" said Murphy, in his rol- 
 licking tone. 
 
 " Oh ! Miste' Murphy, you are so odd." 
 
 " Odd, am I, how am I odd ?" 
 
 " Oh ! so odd." 
 
 " Well, you'd better put on your bonnet and come walk, and we can 
 talk of my oddity after.*' 
 
 "Oh, indeed, I cawnH walk." 
 
 " Can't walk !'' exclaimed Murphy. " Why can't you walk ? I was 
 sent for you.'' 
 
 " 'Deed I cawnt." 
 
 "Ah now!" said Murphy, giving her a little tender poke of his 
 forefinger on the shoulder. 
 
 " Don't Mister Murphy, pray don't." 
 
 " But why won't you walk V 
 
 " I'm too delicate.'' 
 
HANDY ANDY. 181 
 
 Murphy- uttered a very long Oh ! ! ! ! ! 
 --'' 'Deed I am, Miste' Murphy, though you may disbelieve it." 
 
 " Well — a nice walk is the best thing in the world for the health. — 
 Come along!" 
 
 " Cawn't indeed ; a gentle walk on a terrace, or a shadowy avenue, 
 is all very well — the Rotunda Gardens, for instance." 
 
 " Not forgetting the military bands that play there," said Murphy, 
 " together with the officers of all the barracks in Dublin, clinking their 
 sabres at their heels along the gravel walks, all for the small charge of a 
 fi'penny bit." 
 
 Miss Riley gave a reproachful look and shrug at the vulgar mention 
 o£ a " fi'penny bit," which Murphy purposely said to shock her 
 " Brummagem gentility." " How can you be so odd, Miste' Murphy ?" 
 she said. " I don't joke, indeed; a gentle walk — I repeat it — is all very 
 well ; but these horrid rough country walks — these masculine walks, I 
 may say — are not consistent with a delicate frame like mine." 
 
 " A delicate frame !" said Murtough. " Faith, I'll tell you what it 
 is, Miss Riley," said he, standing bolt upright before her, plunging his 
 hands into his pockets, and fixing his eyes on her feet, which still 
 maintained their original position on the fender — " I'll tell you what it 
 is, Miss Riley ; by the vartue of my oath, if your other leg is a match 
 for the one I see, the divil a harm a trot from this to Dublin would 
 do you." 
 
 Miss Riley gave a faint scream, and popped her legs under her chair, 
 while Murphy ran off in a shout of laughter and joined the party, to 
 whom he made no secret of his joke. 
 
 But all this did not damp Miss Riley's hopes of winning him. She 
 changed her plan ; and seeing he did not bow to what she considered 
 the supremacy of her very elegant manners, she set about feigning at 
 once admiration and dread of him. She would sometimes lift her eyes 
 to Murtough with a languishing expression, and declare she never knew 
 any one she was so afraid of; but even this double attack on Irs 
 vanity could not turn Murphy's flank, and so a very laughable flirtation 
 went on between them, he letting her employ all the enginery of her sex 
 against him, with a mischievous enjoyment in her blindness at not 
 seeing she was throwing away her powder and shot. 
 
 But, to return to the party, a rattling country dance now called out 
 at once the energies of the piper, the fiddler, and the ladies and gentle- 
 men ; and left those who had more activity in their heads than their 
 heels, to sit on the forms in the back ground, and exercise their tongues 
 in open scandal of their mutual friends and acquaintances under cover 
 of the music, which prevented the most vigorous talker from being 
 heard further than his or her next-door neighbour. Doctor Growling 
 had gone over to Mrs. Gubbins's, as desired, and was buried deep in 
 gossip. 
 
 " What an extraordinary affair that was about Miss O'Grady, 
 doctor." 
 
 " Very, ma'am." 
 
 " In the man's bed she was, I hear." 
 
 " So the story goes, ma'am." 
 
182 HANDY ANDY". 
 
 " And they tell me, doctor, that when her father — that immaculate 
 madman, God keep us from harm ! — said to poor Mrs. O'Grady in a 
 great rage, ' Where have you brought up your daughters to go to, 
 ma'am V says he, — and she, poor woman, said, ' To church, my dear,' 
 thinking it was the different religion the Saracen was after, — so says 
 he, ' Church, indeed ! there's the church she is gone to, ma'am,' says he, 
 turning down a quilted counterpane ! 
 
 " Are you sure it wasn't Marseilles, ma'am ?" said the doctor. 
 
 " Well, whatever it was — ' There's the church she is in,' says he, 
 pulling her out of the bed." 
 
 " Out of the bed !" repeated the doctor. 
 
 " Out of the bed, sir." 
 
 " Then her church was in the diocese of Down," said the doctor. 
 
 " That's good, docthor ; indeed, that's good. She was caught in 
 bed, says I — and it's the diocese of Down, says you ; faith, that's good. 
 I wish the diocese was your own — for you're funny enough to be a 
 bishop, docthor — you lay howld of everything." 
 
 " That's a great qualification for a mitre, ma'am," said the doctor. 
 
 " And the poor young man that has got her is not worth a farthing, 
 I hear, docthor." 
 
 " Then he must be the curate, ma'am — though I don't think it's a 
 chapel of ease he has got into." 
 
 " Oh ! what a tongue you have, docthor," said she, laughing ; 
 " faith, you'll kill me." 
 
 " That's my profession, ma'am. I'm a licentiate of the Royal Col- 
 lege ; but, unfortunately for me, my humanity is an overmatch for my 
 science. Phrenologically speaking, my benevolence is large, and my 
 destructiveness and acquisitiveness small." 
 
 " Ah, there you go off on another tack — and what a funny new 
 thing that is you talk of! — that free-knowledge, or crow-knowledge, or 
 whatever sort of knowledge you call it. And there's one thing I want to 
 ask you about — there's a bump the ladies have, the gentlemen always 
 laugh at, I remark." 
 
 " That's very rude of them, ma'am," said the doctor, drily. " Is it 
 in the anterior region, or the — " 
 
 " Docthor, don't talk queer." 
 
 " I'm only speaking scientifically, ma'am." 
 
 " Well, I think your scientific discourse is only an excuse for saying 
 impudent things ; I mean the back of their heads." 
 
 " I thought so, ma'am." 
 
 " They call it — dear me, I forget — something — motive — motive — it's 
 Latin — but I am no scholard, docthor." 
 
 " That's manifest, ma'am." 
 
 " But a lady is not bound to know Latin, docthor." 
 
 " Certainly not, ma'am — nor any other language, except that of the 
 eyes." 
 
 Now, this was a wicked hit of the doctor's, for Mrs. Gubbins squinted 
 frightfully ; but Mrs. Gubbins did not know that, — so. she went on. 
 
 " The bump, I mean, docthor — is motive something — motive — motive 
 — I have it ! — motive-wess." 
 
HANDY ANDi*. 183 
 
 " Now I know what you mean," said the doctor ; " amativeness." 
 
 " That's it," said Mrs. Gubbins ; " they call it number one, some- 
 times ; I suppose amativeness is Latin for number one. Now, what does 
 that bump mean ?" 
 
 " Ah, madam," said the doctor, puzzled for a moment to give an 
 explanation ; but in a few seconds he answered, " That's a beautiful pro- 
 vision of nature. That, ma'am, is the organ which makes your sex take 
 compassion on ours."* 
 
 " Wonderful !" said Mrs. Gubbins ; " but how good nature is in 
 giving us provisions ! and I don't think there is a finer provision county 
 in Ireland than this." 
 
 " Certainly not, ma'am," said the doctor; — but the moment Mrs. 
 Gubbins began to speak of provisions, he was sure she would get into a 
 very solid discourse about her own farms ; so he left his seat beside her 
 and went over to Mrs. Riley, to see what fun could be had in that 
 quarter. 
 
 Her daughter was cutting all sorts of bare- faced capers about the 
 room, " astonishing the natives," as she was pleased to say ; and 
 Growling was looking on in amused wonder, at this specimen of vulgar 
 effrontery, whom he had christened " The Brazen Baggage," the first 
 time he saw her. 
 
 " You are looking at my daughter, sir," said the delighted mother. 
 
 " Yes, ma'am," said the doctor, profoundly. 
 
 " She's very young, sir." 
 
 " She'll mend of that, ma'am. We were young once ourselves." 
 
 This was not very agreeable to the mother, who dressed rather in a 
 juvenile style. 
 
 " I mean, sir, that you must excuse any little awkwardness about 
 her — that all rises out of timidity — she was lost with bashfulness till I 
 roused her out of it — but now I think she is beginning to have a little 
 self-possession." 
 
 The doctor was amused, and took a large pinch of snuff; he enjoyed 
 the phrase " beginning to have a little self-possessicn" being applied to 
 the most brazen baggage he ever saw. 
 
 " She's very accomplished, sir," continued the mother. " Misther 
 Jew-val (Duval) taitches her dancin', and Musha Dunny-ai, (Mons. Du 
 Noyer,y) French. Misther Low-jeer (Logier) hasn't the like of her in 
 his academy on the pianya, and as for the harp, you'd think she 
 wouldn't lave a stirring in it." 
 
 " She must be a treasure to her teachers, ma'am," said the doctor. 
 
 " Faith, you may well say threasure, — it costs handfuls o' money ; but 
 sure, while there's room for improvement, every apartment must be at- 
 tended- to, and the vocal apartment is filled by Sir John,— fifteen shillin's 
 a lesson, no less." 
 
 " What silvery tones she ought to bring out, ma'am, at that rate!" 
 
 " Faith, you may say that, sir. It's coining, so it is, with them tip- 
 
 * This very ingenious answer was really given by an Irish professor to an over- 
 inquisitive lady. 
 
 t My own worthy and excellent master,— the best in Ireland. 
 
184 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 top men, and ruins one a' most to have a daughter : every shake I get 
 out of her is to the tune of a ten-poun' note, at least. You shall hear 
 her by-and-by ; the minit the dancin' is over, she shall sing you the 
 ' Bewildhered Maid.' Do you know the ' Bewildhered Maid,' sir ? " 
 
 " I havn't the honour of her acquaintance, ma'am," said the doctor. 
 
 The dancing was soon over, and the mother's threat put into execu- 
 tion. Miss Riley was led over to the piano by the widow, with the 
 usual protestations that she was hoarse. It took some time to get the 
 piano ready, for an extensive clearance was to be made from it of cups 
 and saucers, and half-empty glasses of negus, before it could be opened ; 
 then, after various thrummings, and hummings, and hawings, the ' Be- 
 wildered Maid' made her appearance in the wildest possible manner, 
 and the final shriek was quite worthy of a maniac. Loud applause 
 followed, and the wriggling Miss Riley was led from the piano by 
 James Reddy, who had stood at the back of her chair, swaying backward 
 and forward to the music, with a maudlin expression of sentiment on 
 his face, and a suppressed exclamation of " B-u-tiful," after every extra 
 shout from the young lad)'. 
 
 Growling listened with an expression of as much dissatisfaction as if 
 he had been drinking weak punch. 
 
 " I see you don't like that," said the widow to him, under her breath ; 
 "ah, you're too hard, doctor — consider, she sung out of good-nature." 
 
 " I don't know if it was out of good-nature," said he, " but I'm sure 
 it was out of tune." 
 
 James Reddy led back Miss Riley to her mama, who was much de- 
 lighted with the open manifestations of " the poet's" admiration. 
 
 " She ought to be proud, sir, of your conjunction, I'm sure. A poet 
 like you, sir ! — what beautiful rhymes them wor you did on the 
 'lection." 
 
 " A trifle, ma'am — a mere trifle — a little occasional thing." 
 
 " Oh! but them two beautiful lines — 
 
 ' We tread the land that bore us, 
 Our green flag glitters o'er us !' " 
 
 " They are only a quotation, ma'am," said Reddy. 
 
 " Oh, like every man of true genius, sir, you try and undervalue 
 your own work ; but call them lines what you like, to my taste they 
 are the most beautiful lines in the thing you done." 
 
 Redely did not know what to answer, and his confusion was increased 
 by catching old Growling's eye, who was chuckling at the mal-a-propos 
 speech of the flourishing Mrs. Riley. 
 
 " Don't you sing yourself, sir?" said that lady. 
 
 " To be sure he does," cried the widow Flanagan ; " and he must 
 give us one of his own." 
 
 " Oh!" 
 
 " No excuses ; now, James ! " 
 
 " Where's Duggan ?" inquired the poetaster affectedly ; " I told him 
 to be here to accompany me." 
 
 " I attend your muse, sir," said a miserable structure of skin and 
 bone, advancing with a low bow and obsequious smile ; — this was the 
 
HANDY ANDY. 185 
 
 poor music-master, who set Reddy's rhymes to music as bad, and 
 danced attendance on him everywhere. 
 
 The music-master fumbled over a hackneyed prelude, to show his 
 command of the instrument. 
 
 Miss Riley whispered to her mama, that it was out of one of her 
 first books of lessons. 
 
 Mrs. Flanagan, with a seductive smirk, asked, "what he was going 
 to give them." The poet replied, " a little thing of his own, — ' Rosalie ; 
 or, the BrokenJHeart,' — sentimental, but rather sad." 
 
 The musical skeleton rattled his bones against the ivory, in a very 
 one, two, three, four, symphony ; the poet ran his fingers through his 
 hair, pulled up his collar, gave his head a jaunty nod, and commenced 
 
 Rosalie ; 
 
 OR, THE BROKEN HEART. 
 
 Fare thee — fare thee well — alas, 
 
 Fare — farewell to thee ! 
 On pleasure's wings, as dew-drops fade, 
 
 Or honey stings the bee, 
 My heart is as sad as a black stone 
 
 Under the blue sea. 
 
 Oh, Rosalie ! Oh, Rosalie ! 
 
 As ruder rocks with envy glow, 
 
 Thy coral lips to see, 
 So the weeping waves more briny grow 
 
 With my salt tears for thee ! 
 My heart is as sad as a black stone 
 
 Under the blue sea. 
 
 Oh, Rosalie! Oh, Rosalie! 
 
 After this brilliant specimen of the mysteriously-sentimental and 
 imaginative school was sufficiently applauded, dancing was recom- 
 menced, and Reddy seated himself beside Mrs. Riley, the incense of 
 whose praise was sweet in his nostrils. " Oh, you have a soul for 
 poetry indeed, sir," said the lady. " I was bewildered with all your 
 beautiful idays ; that ' honey stings the bee' is a beautiful iday — so 
 expressive of the pains and pleasures of love. Ah ! I was the most 
 romantic creature myself once, Mister Reddy, though you wouldn't 
 think it now ; but the cares of the world and a family takes the shine 
 out of us. I remember when the men used to be making hats in my 
 father's establishment — for my father was the most extensive hatter in 
 Dublin — I don't know if you knew my father was a hatter ; but you 
 know, sir, manufactures must be followed, and that's no reason why 
 people shouldn't enjoy po'thry and refinement. Well, I was going to 
 tell you how romantic I was, and when the men were making the hats — 
 I don't know whether you ever saw them making hats — " 
 
 Reddy declared he never did. 
 
 " Well, it's like the witches round the iron-pot in Macbeth ; did } T ou 
 ever see Kemble in Macbeth? Oh! he'd make your blood freeze, 
 though the pit is so hot you wouldn't have a dwry rag on you. But 
 to come to the hats. When they're making them, they have hardly any 
 
186 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 crown to them at all, and they are all with great sprawling wide flaps 
 to them ; well, the moment I clapt my eyes on one of them, I thought 
 of a Spanish nobleman directly, with his slouched hat and black fea- 
 thers like a hearse. Yes, I assure you, the broad hat always brought 
 to my mind a Spanish noble or an Italian noble (that would do as well, 
 you know), or a robber, or a murderer, which is all the same thing." 
 
 Reddy could not conceive a hat manufactory as a favourable nursery 
 for romance, but as the lady praised his song, he listened complacently 
 to her hatting. 
 
 " And that's another beautiful idaj r , sir," continued the lady, " where 
 you make the rocks jealous of each other — that's so beautiful to bring 
 in a bit of nature into a metaphysic that way." 
 
 " You flatter me, ma'am," said Reddy ; "but if I might speak of my 
 own work, — that is, if a man may ever speak of his own work, — " 
 
 "And why not, sir ? " asked Mrs. Riley, with a business-like air ; 
 " who has so good a right to speak of the work as the man who done 
 it, and knows what's in it ? " 
 
 " That's a very sensible remark of yours, ma'am, and I will there- 
 fore take leave to say, that the idea / am proudest of, is, the dark and 
 heavy grief of the heart being compared to a black stone, and its depth 
 of misery implied by the sea." 
 
 " Thrue for you," said Mrs. Riley ; " and the blue sea — ah ! that 
 didn't escape me ; that's an elegant touch — the black stone and the blue 
 sea ; and black and blue, such a beautiful conthrast !" 
 
 " I own," said Reddy, " I attempted in that, the bold and daring 
 style of expression which Byron has introduced." 
 
 "Oh, he's a fine pole certainly, but he's not moral, sir; and I'm 
 afeard to let my daughther read such combustibles." 
 
 " But he's grand," said Reddy ; " for instance : 
 
 " ' She walks in beauty like the night.' 
 How fine !" 
 
 " But how wicked!" said Mrs. Riley. " I don't like that night-walking 
 style of poetry at all ; so say no more about it ; we'll talk of something 
 else. You admire music, I'm sure." 
 
 " I adore it, ma'am." 
 
 " Do you like the piano ?" 
 
 " Oh, ma'am ! I could live under a piano." 
 
 " My daughther plays the piano beautiful." 
 
 " Charmingly." 
 
 " Oh, but if you heerd her play the harp, you'd think she wouldn't 
 javea sthring on it (this was Mrs. Riley's favourite bit of praise); and a 
 beautiful harp it is ; one of Egan's double action, all over goold, and 
 cost eighty guineas ; Miss Cheese chuse it for her. Do you know 
 Miss Cheese '( she's as plump as a partridge, with a voice like a lark ; 
 she sings elegant duets ; — do you ever sing duets?" 
 
 " Not often." 
 
 " Ah ! if you could hear Pether Dowling sing duets with my 
 daughther ! he'd make the hair stand straight on your head with the 
 delight. Oh, he's a powerful singer ! you never heerd the like ; he runs 
 
HANDY ANDY. 187 
 
 up and down as fast as a lamplighter ; — and the beautiful turns he gives ; 
 oh ! I never heard any one sing a second like Pether. I declare he 
 sings a second to that degree that you'd think it was the first, and never 
 at a loss for a shake ; and then off he goes in a run, that you'd think 
 he'd never come back ; but he does bring it back into the tune again 
 with as nate a fit as a Limerick glove. Oh ! I never heerd a singer 
 like Pether ! ! ! " 
 
 There is no knowing how much more Mrs. Riley would have said 
 about " Pether," if the end of the dance had not cut her eloquence 
 short, by permitting the groups of dancers as they promenaded to throw 
 in their desultory discourse right and left, and so break up anything 
 like a consecutive conversation. 
 
 But let it not be supposed that all Mrs. Flanagan's guests were of 
 the Gubbins and Riley stamp. There were some of the better class of 
 the country people present ; intelligence and courtesy in the one sex, 
 and gentleness and natural grace in the other, making a society not to 
 be ridiculed in the mass, though individual instances of folly and igno- 
 rance and purse-proud effrontery were amongst it. 
 
 But to Growling every phase of society afforded gratification ; and 
 while no one had a keener relish for such scenes as the one in which 
 we have just witnessed him, the learned and the courteous could be 
 met with equal weapons by the doctor when he liked. 
 
 Quitting the dancing-room, he went into the little drawing-room, 
 where a party of a very different stamp were engaged in conversation. 
 Edward O'Connor and the " dear English captain," as Mrs. Flanagan 
 called him, were deep in an interesting discussion about the relative 
 practices in Ireland and England on the occasions of elections and 
 trials, and most other public events ; and O'Connor, and two or three 
 listeners, — amongst whom was a Mr. Monk, whose daughters, re- 
 markably nice girls, were of the party, — were delighted with the feeling 
 tone in which the Englishman spoke of the poorer classes of Irish, and 
 how often the excesses into which they sometimes fell were viewed 
 through an exaggerated or distorted medium, and what was frequently 
 mere exuberance of spirit pronounced and punished as riot. 
 
 " I never saw a people over whom those in authority require more 
 good temper," remarked the captain. 
 
 " Gentleness goes a long way with them," said Edward. 
 '• And violence never succeeds," added Mr. Monk. 
 " You are of opinion, then," said the soldier, " they are not to be 
 forced." 
 
 " Except to do what they like," chimed in Growling. 
 " That's a very Irish sort of coercion," said the captain, smiling. 
 "And therefore fit for Irishmen," said Growling; " and I never knew 
 an intelligent Englishman yet, who came to Ireland, who did not find'it 
 out. Paddy has a touch of the pig in him — he won't be driven ; but 
 you may coax him a long way ; or if you appeal to his reason, — for he 
 happens to have such a thing about him, — you may persuade him into 
 what is right if you take the trouble*" 
 
 " By Jove," said the captain, "it is not easy to argue with Paddy ; the 
 rascals are so ready with quip, and equivoque, and queer answers, that they 
 
188 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 generally get the best of it in talk, however fallacious may be their 
 argument ; and when you think you have Pat in a corner, and escape is 
 inevitable, he's off without your knowing how he slipped through your 
 fingers." 
 
 When the doctor joined the conversation, Edward, knowing his 
 powers, gave up the captain into his hands and sat down by the side of 
 Miss Monk, who had just entered from the dancing-room, and threw 
 herself into a chair in the corner. 
 
 She and Edward soon got engaged in a conversation particularly inter- 
 esting to him. She spoke of having lately met Fanny Dawson, and was 
 praising her in such terms of affectionate admiration, that Edward hung 
 upon every word with delight. I know not if Miss Monk was aware of 
 Edward's devotion in that quarter before, but she could not look upon 
 the bland, though somewhat sad smile, which arched his expressive 
 mouth, and the dilated eye which beamed as her praises were uttered, 
 without being then conscious that Fanny Dawson had made him captive. 
 
 She was pleased, and continued the conversation with that inherent 
 pleasure a woman has in touching a man's heart, even though it be not 
 on her own account ; and it was done with that tact and delicacy which 
 only women possess, and which is so refined that the rougher nature of 
 man is insensible of its drift and influence, and he is betrayed by a net 
 whose meshes are too fine for his perception. Edward O'Connor never 
 dreamt that Miss Monk saw he was in love with the subject of their 
 discourse. While they were talking, the merry hostess entered, and the 
 last words the captain uttered fell upon her ear, and then followed a 
 reply from Growling, sa)ir.g that Irishmen were as hard to catch as 
 quicksilver. " Ay, and as hard to keep as any other silver," said the 
 widow ; " don't believe what these wild Irish fellows tell you of them- 
 selves, they are all mad divils alike — you steady Englishmen are the 
 safe men — and the girls know it. And faith, if you try them," added 
 she, laughing, " I don't know any one more likely to have luck with 
 them than yourself; for, 'pon my conscience, captain, we all doat on you 
 since you would not shoot the people, the other day." 
 
 There was a titter among the girls at this open avow r al. 
 
 "Ah, why wouldn't I say it ?" exclaimed she, laughing. " I'm not a 
 mealy-mouthed miss ; sure, I may tell truth ; and I wouldn't trust one 
 o* ye," she added, with a very significant nod of the head at the gentle- 
 men, " except the captain. Yes — I'd trust one more — I'd trust Mister 
 O'Connor ; I think he really could be true to a woman." 
 
 The words fell sweetly upon his ear : the expression of trust in his 
 faith at that moment, even from the laughing widow, was pleasing ; for 
 his heart was full of the woman he adored, and it was only by long 
 waiting and untiring fidelity she could ever become his. 
 
 He bowed courteously to the compliment the hostess paid him ; and 
 she, immediately taking advantage of his acknowledgment, said that, 
 after having paid him such a pretty compliment, he couldn't refuse her 
 to sing a song. Edward never liked to sing in mixed companies, and 
 was about making some objection, when the widow interrupted him with 
 one of those Irish "Ah, now's " so hard to resist. " Besides, all the noisy 
 pack are in the dancing-room, or indeed I wouldn't ask you ; and here 
 
HANDY ANDY. 189 
 
 there's not one won't be charmed with you. Ah, look at Miss Monk, 
 there — I know she's dying to hear you ; and see all the ladies hanging on 
 your lips, absolutely. — Can you refuse me after that, now ?" 
 
 It was true that, in the small room where they sat, there were only 
 those who were worthy of better things than Edward would have ven- 
 tured on to the many ; and filled with the tender and passionate senti- 
 ment his conversation with Miss Monk had awakened, one of those 
 effusions of deep, and earnest, and poetic feeling which love had 
 prompted to his muse, rose to his lips, and he began to sing. 
 
 All were silent, for the poet singer was a favourite, and all knew 
 with what touching expression he gave his compositions ; but now 
 the mellow tones, of his voice seemed to vibrate with a feeling in more 
 than common unison with the words, and his dark earnest eyes beamed 
 with a devotion of which she who was the object might be proud. 
 
 & Ufaf tfjat rcmtntts of tftec. 
 
 How sweet is the hour we give, 
 
 When fancy may wander free, 
 To the friends who in memory live ! — 
 
 For then I remember thee ! 
 Then, wing'd, like the dove from the ark, 
 
 My heart, o'er a stormy sea, 
 Brings back to my lonely bark 
 
 A leaf that reminds of thee ! 
 
 But still does the sky look dark, 
 
 The waters still deep and wide ; 
 Oh ! when may my lonely bark 
 
 In peace on the shore abide ? 
 But through the future far, 
 
 Dark though my course may be, 
 Thou art my guiding star ! 
 
 My heart still turns to thee ! 
 
 When I see thy friends I smile, 
 
 I sigh when I hear thy name ; 
 But they cannot tell the while 
 
 Whence the smile or the sadness cams. 
 Vainly the world may deem 
 
 The cause of my sighs they know: 
 The breeze that ruffles the stream 
 
 Knows not the depth below. 
 
 Before the first verse of the song was over, the entrance to the room 
 was filled with eager listeners, and, at its conclusion, a large proportion 
 of the company from the dancing-room had crowded round the door, 
 attracted by the rich voice of the singer, and fascinated into silence by 
 the charm of his song. Perhaps, after mental qualities, the most valuable 
 gift a man can have is a fine voice ; it at once commands attention, and 
 may, therefore, be ranked in a man's possession as highly as beauty in 
 a woman's. 
 
 in speaking thus of voice, i ao not allude to the power of singing, 
 
190 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 but the mere physical quality of a fine voice, which, in the bare utter- 
 ance of the simplest words, is pleasing, but, becoming the medium 
 for the interchange of higher thoughts, is irresistible. Superadded to 
 this gift, which Edward possessed, the song he sang had meaning in it 
 which could reach the hearts of all his auditory, though its poetry might 
 be appreciated but by few : its imagery grew upon a stem whose root 
 was in every bosom, and the song that possesses this quality, whatever 
 may be its defects, contains not only the elements of future fame, but 
 of immediate popularity. Startling was the contrast between the 
 silence the song had produced and the simultaneous clapping of hands 
 outside the door when it was over ; not the poor plaudit of a fashionable 
 assembly, whose " bravo" is an attenuated note of admiration, strug- 
 gling into a sickly existence, and expiring in a sigh ; applause of so sus- 
 picious a character, that no one seems desirous of owning it, — a feeble 
 forgery of satisfaction which people think it disgraceful to be caught 
 uttering. The clapping was not the plaudit of high-bred hands, whose 
 sound is like the fluttering of small wings, just enough to stir gos- 
 samer, — but not the heart. No ; — such was not the applause which 
 followed Edward's song; — he had the outburst of heart-warm and un- 
 sophisticated satisfaction, unfettered by chilling convention. Most of his 
 hearers did not know that it was disgraceful to admit being too well 
 pleased, and the poor innocents really opened their mouths and clapped 
 their hands. Oh, fie ! tell it not in Grosvenor-square. 
 
 And now James Reddy contrived to be asked to sing ; the coxcomb, 
 not content with his luck in being listened to before, panted for such 
 another burst of applause as greeted Edward, whose song he had no 
 notion was any better than his own ; the puppy fancied his rubbish of 
 the " black stone under the blue sea" partook of a grander character 
 of composition, and that while Edward's " breeze" but " ruffled the 
 stream," he had fathomed the ocean. But a " heavy blow and great 
 discouragement" was in store for Master James, for as he commenced 
 a love ditty which he called by the fascinating title of " The Rose of 
 Silence," and verily believed would have enraptured every woman in the 
 room, a powerful voice, richly flavoured with the brogue, shouted forth 
 outside the door, " Ma'am, if you plaze, supper's sarvcd." The effect 
 was magical ; a rush was made to supper by the crowd in the doorway, 
 and every gentleman in the little drawing room offered his arm to a 
 lady, and led her off without the smallest regard to Reddy's singing. 
 
 His look was worth anything, as he saw himself thus unceremoniously 
 deserted, and likely soon to be left in sole possession of the room ; the 
 old doctor was enchanted with his vexation ; and when James ceased 
 to sing, as the last couple were going, the doctor interposed his request 
 that the song should be finished. 
 
 " Don't stop, my dear fellow," said the doctor; " that's the best 
 song I have heard a long time, and you must indulge me by finishing 
 it — that's a gem." 
 
 " Why, you see, doctor, they have all gone to supper." 
 
 " Yes, and the devil choke them with ;t " said Growling, " for their 
 want of taste ; but never mind that ; on? udicious listener is worth a 
 crowd of such fools, you'll admit ; so sit down again, and sing for me." 
 
HANDY ANDY. 191 
 
 The doctor seated himself as he spoke, and tnere he kept Reddy, 
 whom he knew was very fond of a good supper, singing away for the 
 bare life, with only one person for audience, and that one humbugging 
 him. The scene was rich; the gravity with which the doctor carried 
 on the quiz was admirable, and the gullibility of the coxcomb who was 
 held captive by his affected admiration, exquisitely absurd, and almost 
 past belief; even Growling himself was amazed as he threw in a 
 rapturous " charming" or " bravissimo" at the egregious folly of his 
 dupe, who still continued singing, while the laughter of the supper 
 room, and the inviting clatter of its knives and forks, were ringing in 
 his ear. When Reddy concluded, the doctor asked, might he venture to 
 request the last verse again ; " for," continued he, " there is a singular 
 beauty of thought and felicity of expression in its numbers, leaving the 
 mind unsatisfied with but one hearing ; — once more, if you please." 
 
 Poor Reddy repeated the last verse. 
 
 " Very charming, indeed !" said the doctor. 
 
 " You really like it?" said Reddy. 
 
 " Like ?" said the doctor — " sir, like is a faint expression of what 
 I think of that song. — Moore had better look to his laurels, sir !" 
 
 " Oh, doctor!" 
 
 " Ah, you know yourself," said Growling. 
 
 " Then that last, doctor ?" said Reddy, inquiringly. 
 
 " Is your most successful achievement, sir ; there is a mysterious 
 shadowing forth of something in it which is very fine." 
 
 " You like it better than the ' Black Stone?' " 
 
 " Pooh! sir; — the ' Black Stone, if I may be allowed an image, 
 is but ordinary paving, while that ' Rose of Silence' of yours might strew 
 the path to Parnassus." 
 
 "And is it not strange, doctor," said Reddy, in a reproachful tone, 
 " that them people should be insensible to that song, and leave the 
 room while I was singing it ?" 
 
 " Too good for them, sir- — above their comprehensions." 
 
 " Besides, so rude !" said Reddy. 
 
 " Oh, my dear friend," said the doctor, " when you know more of the 
 world, you'll find out that an appeal from the lower house to the 
 upper," and he changed his hand from the region of his waistcoat to 
 his head as he spoke, " is most influential." 
 
 "True, doctor," said Reddy, with a smile; "and suppose we go to 
 supper now." 
 
 "Wait a moment," said Growling, holding his button. "Did you 
 ever try your hand at an epic ?" 
 
 " No, I can't say that I did." 
 
 " I wish you would." 
 
 " You flatter me, doctor ; but don't you think we had better ^o to 
 supper : 
 
 "Ha!" said the doctor, "your own house of commons is sending 
 up an appeal — eh ?" 
 
 " Decidedly, doctor." 
 
 " Then you see, my dear friend, you can't wonder at those poor infe- 
 rior beings hurrying off to indulge their gross appetites, when a man of 
 
192 HANDS' ANDY. 
 
 genius like you is not insensible to the same call. Never wonder again 
 at people leaving your song for supper, Master James," said the doctor, 
 resting his arm on Reddy, and sauntering from the room. '* Never 
 wonder again at the triumph of supper over song, for the Swan of 
 Avon himself would have no chance against roast ducks." 
 
 Reddy smacked his lips at the word ducks, and the savoury odour of 
 the supper-room which they approached heightened his anticipation of an 
 onslaught on one of the aforesaid tempting birds ; but, ah ! when he entered 
 the room, skeletons of ducks there were, but nothing more ; the work 
 of demolition had been in able hands, and the doctor's lachrymose ex- 
 clamation of " the devil a duck !" found a hollow echo under Reddy's 
 waistcoat. Round the room that deluded minstrel went, seeking what 
 he might devour, but his voyage of discovery for any hot fowl was 
 profitless ; and Growling in silent delight witnessed his disappointment. 
 
 " Come, sir," said the doctor, " there's plenty of punch left, how- 
 ever — I'll take a glass with you, and drink success to your next song, 
 for the last is all I could wish ;" and so indeed it was, for it enabled him 
 to laugh at the poetaster, and cheat him out of his supper. 
 
 " Ho, ho !" said Murtough Murphy, who approached the door; " you 
 have found out the punch is good, eh? 'faith it is that same, and I'll 
 take another glass of it with you before I go, for the night is cold." 
 
 " Are you going so soon ? " asked Growling, as he clinked his glass 
 against the attorney's. 
 
 "Whisht!" said Murphy; "not a word — I'm slipping away after 
 Dick the Divil ; we have a trifle of work in hand, quite in his line, 
 and it is time to set about it. Good b'ye, you'll hear more of it to- 
 morrow — snug's the word !" 
 
 Murphy stole away, for the open departure of so merry a blade 
 would not have been permitted, and in the hall he found Dick mount- 
 ing a large top-coat, and muffling up. 
 
 " Good people are scarce, you think, Dick,'' said Murphy. 
 
 " I'd recommend you to follow the example, for the night is bitter 
 cold, I can tell you." 
 
 " And as dark as a coal-hole," said Murphy, as he opened the door 
 and looked out. 
 
 " No matter, I have got a dark Ian thorn," said Dick, " which we can 
 use when required ; make haste, the gig is round the corner, and the 
 little black mare will roll us over in no time." 
 
 They left the house quietly, as he spoke, and started on a bit of 
 mischief, which demands a separate chapter. 
 
HANDY ANDY. 193 
 
 CHAPTER XX11. 
 
 The night was pitch dark, and on rounding the adjacent corner, no 
 vehicle could be seen ; but a peculiar whistle from Dick was answered by 
 the sound of approaching wheels, and the rapid footfalls of a horse, 
 mingled with the light rattle of a smart gig. — On the vehicle coming up, 
 Dick took the little mare, that was blacker than the night, by the head, 
 the apron of the gig was thrown down, and out jumped a smart servant 
 boy. 
 
 " You have the horse ready too, Billy ?" 
 
 " Yis, sir," said Billy, touching his hat. 
 
 " Then follow ; and keep up with me, remember." 
 
 " Yis, sir." 
 
 " Come to her head, here," and he patted the little mare's neck as he 
 spoke with a carressing ' whoa,' which was answered by a low neigh of 
 satisfaction, while the impatient pawing of her fore foot showed the 
 animal's desire to start. " "What an impatient little devil she is," said 
 Dick, as he mounted the gig ; " I'll get in first, Murphy, as I'm going to 
 drive, — now up with you — hook on the apron — that's it — are you all 
 right ?" 
 
 " Quite," said Murphy. 
 
 " Then you be into your saddle and after us, Billy," said Dick ; " and 
 now let her go. " 
 
 Billy gave the little black mare her head, and away she went, at a 
 slapping pace, the fire from the road answering the rapid strokes of her 
 nimble feet. The servant then mounted a horse, which was tied to a 
 neighbouring palisade, and had to gallop for it to come up with his 
 master, who was driving with a swiftness almost fearful, considering the 
 darkness of the night and the narrowness of the roads he had to traverse, 
 for he was making the best of his course by cross ways to an adjacent 
 road-side inn, where some non-resident electors were expected to arrive 
 that night by a coach from Dublin ; for the county town had every nook 
 and cranny occupied, and this inn was the nearest point where they 
 could get any accommodation. 
 
 Now don't suppose that they were electors whom Murphy and Dick, 
 in their zeal for their party, were going over to greet with hearty welcomes, 
 and bring up to the poll the next day. By no means. They were the 
 friends of the opposite party, and it was with the design of retarding 
 their movements that this night's excursion was undertaken. These 
 electors were a batch of plain citizens from Dublin, whom the Scat- 
 
 o 
 
194 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 terbrain interest had induced to leave the peace and quiet of the city to 
 tempt the wilds of the country at that wildest oftimes — during a contested 
 election : and a night coach was freighted inside and out with the worthy 
 cits, whose aggregate voices would be of immense importance the next 
 day ; for the contest was close, the county nearly polled out, and but two 
 days more for the struggle. Now, to interrupt these plain unsuspecting 
 men was the object of Murphy, whose well-supplied information had 
 discovered to him this plan of the enemy, which he set about counter- 
 mining. As they rattled over the rough bye-roads, many a laugh 
 did the merry attorney and the untameable Dick the Divil exchange, as 
 the probable success of their scheme was canvassed, and fresh expe- 
 dients devised to meet the possible impediments which might interrupt 
 them. As they topped a hill, Murphy pointed out to his companion a 
 moving light in the plain beneath. 
 
 "That's the coach, Dick — there are the lamps, we're just in time — 
 spin down the hill, my boy — let me get in as they're at supper, and 
 faith they'll want it, after coming off a coach such a night as this, to say 
 nothing of some of them being aldermen in expectancy, I suppose, and 
 of course obliged to play trencher-men as often as they can, as a requisite 
 rehearsal for the parts they must hereafter fill." 
 
 In fifteen minutes more, Dick pulled up before a small cabin within a 
 quarter of a mile of the inn, and the mounted servant tapped at the door, 
 which was immediately opened, and a peasant advancing to the gig, 
 returned the civil salutation with which Dick greeted his approach. 
 
 " I wanted to be sure you were ready, Barny. " 
 
 " Oh, do you think I'd fail you, misther Dick, your honour ? " 
 
 " I thought you might be asleep, Barny." 
 
 " Not when you bid me wake, sir — and there's a nice fire ready 
 for you, and as fine a dhrop o' potteen as ever tickled your tongue, 
 sir. " 
 
 " You're the lad, Barny ! — good fellow — I'll be back with you by and 
 by — " and off whipped Dick again. 
 
 After going about a quarter of a mile further, he pulled up, alighted 
 with Murphy from the gig, unharnessed the little black mare, and then 
 overturned the gig into the ditch. 
 
 " That's as natural as life, " said Dick. 
 
 " What an escape of my neck I've had ! " said Murphy. 
 
 " Are you much hurt ? " said Dick. 
 
 " A trifle, lame only, " said Murphy, laughing and limping. 
 
 " There was a great boccagh* lost in you, Murphy ; wait ; let me rub 
 a handful of mud on your face — there — you have a very upset look, 
 'pon my soul," said Dick, as he flashed the light of his lantern on 
 him for a moment, and laughed at Murphy scooping the mud out of his 
 eye, where Dick had purposely planted it. 
 
 " Divil take you," said Murtough ; " that's too natural." 
 
 " There's nothing like looking your part, " said Dick. 
 
 "Well, I may as well complete my attire," said Murtough, so he lay 
 down in the road and took a roll in the mud ; " that will do, said he ; 
 
 * Lame Beggar. 
 
HANDY ANDY. 195 
 
 and now, Dick, go back to Barney and the mountain dew, while I 
 storm the camp of the Philistines ; I think in a couple of hours you may 
 be on the look-out for me ; I'll signal you from the window, so now 
 good bye ;" and Murphy, leading the mare, proceeded to the inn, while 
 Dick, with a parting "Luck to you, my boy," turned back to the cottage 
 of Barny. 
 
 The coach had set down six inside and ten out passengers (all voters) 
 about ten minutes before Murphy marched up to the inn door, leading 
 the black mare, and calling " ostler" most lustily. His call being answered 
 for " the beast," " the man" next demanded attention ; and the landlord 
 wondered all the wonders he could cram into a short speech, at seeing 
 Misther Murphy, sure, at such a time ; and the soncy landlady, too, was 
 all lamentations for his iligant coat and his poor eye sure, all ruined 
 with the mud : — and what was it at all ? an upset, was it 1 oh, wirra ! 
 and wasn't it lucky he wasn't killed, and they without a spare bed to 
 lay him out dacent if he was, — sure, wouldn't it be horrid for his body 
 to be only on sthraw in the barn, instead of the best feather-bed in the 
 house ; and, indeed, he'd be welcome to it, only the gintlemen from 
 town had them all engaged. 
 
 " Well, dead or alive, I must stay here to-night, Mrs. Kelly, at all 
 events." 
 
 " And what will you do for a bed ?" 
 
 " A shake down in the parlour, or a stretch on a sofa will do ; my gig 
 is stuck fast in a ditch — my mare tired — ten miles from home — cold 
 night, and my knee hurt." Murphy limped as he spoke. 
 
 " Oh! your poor knee," said Mrs. Kelly; " I'll put a dhrop o' whisky 
 and brown paper on it, sure — " 
 
 " And what gentlemen are these, Mrs. Kelly, who have so filled your 
 house ?" 
 
 " Gentlemen that camo by the coach a while agone, and supping 
 in the parlour now, sure." 
 
 " Would you give my compliments, and ask would they allow me, 
 under the present peculiar circumstances, to join them ; and in the 
 mean time, send somebody down the road to take the cushions out of 
 my gig ; for there is no use in attempting to get the gig out till 
 morning." 
 
 " Sartinly, Misther Murphy, we'll send for the cushions, but as for 
 the gentlemen, they are allon the other side." 
 
 11 What other side ? " 
 
 " The Honorable's voters, sure." 
 
 " Pooh! is that all?" said Murphy,—" I don't mind that, I've no 
 objection on that account ; besides, they need not know who / am," 
 and he gave the landlord a knowing wink, to which the landlord as 
 knowingly returned another. 
 
 The message to the gentlemen was delivered, and Murphy was im- 
 mediately requested to join their party ; this was all he wanted, and he 
 played off his powers of diversion on the innocent citizens so success- 
 fully, that before supper was half over they thought themselves in luck 
 to have fallen in with such a chance acquaintance. Murphy fired away 
 jokes, repartees, anecdotes, and country gossip, to their delight ; and 
 
 o 2 
 
106 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 when the eatables were disposed of, he started them on the punch- 
 drinking tack afterwards so cleverly, that he hoped to see three parts 
 of them tipsy before they retired to rest. 
 
 " Do you feel your knee better now, sir ? " asked one of the party, 
 of Murphy. 
 
 " Considerably, thank you ; whisky punch, sir, is about the best cure 
 for bruises or dislocations a man can take." 
 
 " I doubt that, sir," said a little matter-of-fact man, who had now 
 interposed his reasonable doubts for the twentieth time during Murphy's 
 various extravagant declarations, and the interruption only made 
 Murphy romance the more. 
 
 " You speak of your fiery Dublin stuff, sir — but our country whisky is 
 as mild as milk, and far more wholesome ; then, sir, our fine air alone 
 would cure half the complaints without a grain of physic." 
 
 " I doubt that, sir," said the little man. 
 
 " I assure you, sir, a friend of my own from town came down here 
 last spring on crutches, and from merely following a light whisky diet, 
 and sleeping with his window open, he was able to dance at the race 
 ball in a fortnight ; as for this knee of mine, it's a trifle, though it was a 
 bad upset too." 
 
 " How did it happen, sir ? Was it your horse — or your harness — 
 or your gig — or — " 
 
 " None o' them, sir — it was a Banshee." 
 
 " A Banshee," said the little man, " what's that V 
 
 " A peculiar sort of supernatural creatures, that are common here, 
 sir ; she was squatted down on one side of the road, and my mare shied 
 at her, and being a spirited little thing, she attempted to jump the 
 ditch, and missed it in the dark." 
 
 " Jump a ditch, with a gig after her, sir?" said the little man. 
 
 " Oh, common enough to do that here, sir — she'd have done it easy 
 in the daylight, but she could not measure her distance in the dark, 
 and bang she went into the ditch : but it's a trifle, after all. I am 
 generally run over four or five times a year." 
 
 " And you alive to tell it!" said the little man, incredulously. 
 
 " It's hard to kill us here, sir ; we are used to accidents." 
 
 " Well, the worst accident I ever heard of," said one of the citizens, 
 " happened to a friend of mine, who went to visit a friend of his on a 
 Sunday, and all the family happened to be at church ; so on driving 
 into the yard there was no one to take his horse, therefore he under- 
 took the office of ostler himself; but being unused to the duty, he 
 most incautiously took off the horse's bridle before unyoking him from 
 his gig, and the animal, making a furious plunge forward — my friend 
 being before him at the time — the shaft of the gig was driven through 
 his body, and into the coach-house gate behind him, and stuck so fast 
 that the horse could not drag it out after ; and in this dreadful situation 
 they remained until the family returned from church, and saw the 
 awful occurrence. A servant was despatched for a doctor, and the shaft 
 was disengaged, and drawn out of the man's body, — just at the pit of 
 his stomach ; he was laid on a bed, and every one thought of course 
 he must die at once ; but he didn't, — and the doctor came next day, and 
 
HANDY ANDY. 107 
 
 lie wasn't dead — did what he could for liim — and, to make a long story 
 short, sir, the man recovered." 
 
 "Pooh! pooh!" said the diminutive doubter. 
 
 " It's true," said the narrator. 
 
 " I make no doubt of it, sir," said Murphy ; " I know a more extra- 
 ordinary case of recovery myself." 
 
 " I beg your pardon, sir," said the cit ; " I have not finished my 
 story yet, for the most extraordinary part of the story remains to be 
 told : my friend, sir, was a very sickly man before the accident hap- 
 pened — a very sickly man, and after that accident he became a hale 
 healthy man — what do you think of that, sir ? " 
 
 " It does not surprise me in the least, sir," said Murphy — " I can 
 account for it readily." 
 
 " Well, sir, I never heard it accounted for, though I know it to be 
 true ; I should like to hear how you account for it." 
 
 "Very simply, sir," said Murphy; "don't you perceive the man dis- 
 covered a mine of health by a shaft being sunk in the pit of his stomach." 
 
 Murphy's punning solution of the cause of cure was merrily received 
 by the company, whose critical taste was not of that affected nature 
 which despises a jeu de mots, and will not be satisfied under a jeu 
 d 'esprit ; the little doubting man alone refused to be pleased. 
 
 " I doubt the value of a pun always, sir. Dr. Johnson said, sir — " 
 
 " I know," said Murphy ; — " that the man who would commit a pun 
 would pick a pocket ; that's old, sir, — but is dearly remembered by all 
 those who cannot make puns themselves." 
 
 ** Exactly," said one of the party they called Wiggins. " It is the old 
 story of the fox and'the grapes. Did you ever hear, sir, the story of 
 the fox and the grapes \ The fox one day was " 
 
 " Yes, yes," said Murphy, who, fond of absurdity as he was, could 
 not stand the fox and the grapes by way of something new. 
 
 " They're sour," said the fox.' 
 
 " Yes," said Murphy, " a capital story." 
 
 " Oh, them fables is so good !" said Wiggins. 
 
 "All nonsense!" said the diminutive contradictor. — "Nonsense, 
 nothing but nonsense ; the ridiculous stuff of birds and beasts speaking ! 
 as if any one could believe such stuff." 
 
 " I do — firmly — for one," said Murphy. 
 
 " You do?" said the little man. 
 
 " I do — and do you know why?" 
 
 " I cannot indeed conceive," said the little man, with a bitter grin. 
 
 " It is, sir, because I myself know a case that occurred in this very 
 country of a similar nature." 
 
 " Do you want to make me believe you knew a fox that spoke, sir?" 
 said the mannekin, almost rising into anger. 
 
 " Many, sir," said Murphy, " many." 
 
 " Well! after that!" said the little man. 
 
 " But the case I immediately allude to is not of a fox, but a cat," 
 said Murphy. 
 
 " A cat ? Oh, yes — to be sure — a cat speak, indeed !" said the little 
 gentleman. 
 
193 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 " It is a fact, sir," said Murphy, " and if the company would not 
 object to my relating the story, I will state the particulars." 
 
 The proposal was received with acclamation ; and Murphy, in great 
 enjoyment of the little man's annoyance, cleared his throat, and made 
 all the preparatory demonstrations of a regular raconteur ; but, before 
 he began, he recommended the gentlemen to mix fresh tumblers all 
 round, that they might have nothing to do but listen and drink silently. 
 " For of all things in the world," said Murtough, " I hate a song or a 
 story to be interrupted by the rattle of spoons." 
 
 They obeyed ; and while they are mixing their punch, we will just 
 turn over a fresh page, and devote a new Chapter to the following 
 
 Jttatbdlous HLegen& 
 
HA.NDY ANDY. 199 
 
 CHAPTER XXIIL 
 
 MURTOUGH MURPHY'S STORY ; 
 
 BEING 
 
 3*« iWarbellous Hegentt of ^Tom Connor's ©at. 
 
 M There was a man in these parts, sir, you must know, called Tom 
 Connor, and he had a cat that was equal to any dozen of rat-traps, and 
 he was proud of the baste, and with rayson ; for she was worth her 
 weight in goold to him in saving his sacks of meal from the thievery of 
 the rats and mice ; for Tom was an extensive dealer in corn, and in- 
 fluenced the rise and fall of that article in the market, to the extent of 
 a full dozen of sacks at a time, which he either kept or sold, as the spirit 
 of free trade or monopoly came over him. Indeed, at one time, Tom 
 had serious thoughts of applying to the government for a military force 
 to protect his granary, when there was a threatened famine in the 
 county." 
 
 " Pooh! pooh ! sir," said the matter-of-fact little man, "as if a dozen 
 sacks could be of the smallest consequence in a whole county — pooh! 
 pooh !" 
 
 " Well, sir," said Murphy, " I can't help if you don't believe ; but 
 it's truth what I am telling you, and pray don't interrupt me, though 
 you may not believe ; by the time the story's done you'll have heard 
 more wonderful things than that, — and besides, remember you're a 
 stranger in these parts, and have no notion of the extraordinary things, 
 physical, metaphysical, and magical, which constitute the idiosyncrasy of 
 rural destiny." 
 
 The little man did not know the meaning of Murphy's last sentence — 
 nor Murphy either ; but having stopped the little man's throat with 
 the big words, he proceeded. 
 
 " This cat, sir, you must know, was a great pet, and was so up to 
 every thing, that Tom swore she was a'most like a Christian, only she 
 couldn't speak, and had so sensible a look in her eyes, that he was 
 sartin sure the cat knew every word that was said to her. Well, she used 
 to sit by him at breakfast every morning, and the eloquent cock of her 
 tail, as she used to rub against his leg, said, ' Give me some milk, Tom 
 Connor,' as plain as print, and the plenitude of her purr afterwards 
 spoke a gratitude beyond language. — Well, one morning, Tom was going 
 to the neighbouring town to market, and he had promised the wife to 
 bring home shoes to the childre', out o' the price of the corn ; and sure 
 enough, before he sat down to breakfast, there was Tom taking the 
 
200 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 measure of the children's feet, by cutting notches on a bit of stick ; and 
 the wife gave him so many cautions about getting a ' nate fit' for 
 ' Billy's purty feet,' that Tom, in his anxiety to nick the closest possible 
 measure, cut off the child's toe. That disturbed the harmony of the 
 party, and Tom was obliged to breakfast alone, while the mother was 
 endeavouring to cure Billy ; in short, trying to make a heal of his toe. 
 Well, sir, all the time Tom was taking measure for the shoes, the cat 
 was observing him with that luminous peculiarity of eye for which her 
 tribe is remarkable ; and when Tom sat down to breakfast the cat 
 rubbed up against him more vigorously than usual, but Tom, being 
 bewildered between his expected gain in corn, and the positive loss of 
 his child's toe, kept never minding her, until the cat, with a sort of 
 caterwauling growl, gave Tom a dab of her claws, that went clean 
 through his leathers, and a little further. ' Wow 1' says Tom, with a 
 jump, clapping his hand on the pait, and rubbing it, ' by this and that, 
 you drew the blood out o' me,' says Tom, ' you wicked divil — tish f — 
 go along!' says he, making a kick at her. With that the cat gave a 
 reproachful look at him, and her eyes glared just like a pair of mail-coach 
 lamps in a fog. With that, sir, the cat, with a mysterious • mi-o?v ) ' 
 fixed a most penetrating glance on Tom, and distinctly uttered his 
 name. 
 
 "Tom felt every hair on his head as stiff as a pump handle — and 
 scarcely crediting his ears, he returned a searching look at the cat, who 
 very quietly proceeded with a sort of nasal twang — 
 
 "'Tom Connor,' says she. 
 
 " ' The Lord be good to me,' says Tom, ' if it isn't spakin', she is.' 
 
 M 'Tom Connor,' says she, again. 
 
 " ' Yes, ma'am,' says Tom. 
 
 " ' Come here,' says she, ' whisper — I want to talk to you, Tom,' says 
 she, 'the last taste in private,' says she — rising on her hams, and 
 beckoning him with her paw out o' the door, with a wink and a toss o' 
 the head aiqual to a milliner. 
 
 " Well, as you may suppose, Tom did'nt know whether he was on his 
 head or his heels, but he followed the cat, and off she went and squatted 
 herself under the hedge of a little paddock at the back of Tom's house ; 
 and as he came round the coiner, she held up her paw again, and laid it 
 on her mouth, as much as to say, ' Be cautious, Tom.' Well, divil a 
 word Tom could say at all, with the fright, so up he goes to the cat, and 
 says she — 
 
 " ' Tom,' says she, ' I have a great respect for you, and there's 
 something I must tell you, bekase you're losing characther with your 
 neighbours,' says she, ' by your goin's on,' says she ; ' and it's out o' 
 the respect that I have for you, that I must tell you,' says she. 
 
 " ' Thank you, ma'am,' says Tom. 
 
 " ' You're goin' off to the town,' says she, ' to buy shoes for the 
 childhre,' says she, 'and never thought o' gettin' me a pair.' 
 
 " ' You ! ' says Tom. 
 
 " * Yis, me, Tom Connor,' says she ; ' and the neighbours wondhers 
 that a respectable man like you allows your cat to go about the coun- 
 thry baref'utted,' says she. 
 
'. 
 
HANDY ANDY. 201 
 
 11 ' Is it a cat to wear shoes ? ' says Tom. 
 
 " 'Why not?' says she, 'doesn't horses ware shoes — and I have a 
 prettier foot than a horse, I hope,' says she, with a toss of her head. 
 
 "'Faix, she spakes like a woman ; so proud of her feet,' says Tom to 
 himself, astonished, as you may suppose, but pretending never to think 
 it remarkable all the time ; and so he went discoursin', and says he, 
 ' It's thrue for you, ma'am,' says he, ' that horses wares shoes — but that 
 stands to rayson, ma'am, you see — seeing the hardship their feet hi.- to 
 go through on the hard roads.' 
 
 " ' And how do you know what hardship my feet has to go through ? ' 
 says the eat, mighty sharp. 
 
 " ' But, ma'am,' says Tom, ' I don't well see how you could fasten a 
 shoe on you,' says he. 
 
 " ' Lave that to me,' says the cat. 
 
 " ' Did any one ever stick walnut shells on you, pussey V says Tom, 
 with a grin. 
 
 " ' Don't be disrespectful, Tom Connor,' says the cat, with a frown. 
 
 " ' I ax your pard'n, ma'am,' says he, ' but as for the horses you wor 
 spakin' about wearin' shoes, you know their shoes is fastened on with 
 nails, and how would your shoes be fastened on 1 ' 
 
 "'Ah, you stupid thief,' says she, 'haven't I iligant nails o' my 
 own ?' — and with that she gave him a dab of her claw, that made him roar. 
 
 " ' Ow ! murdher ! ' says he. 
 
 " ' Now, no more of your palaver, Misther Connor,' says the cat, 'just 
 be off and get me the shoes.' 
 
 " ' Tare an ouns,' says Tom, ' what'll become 'o me if I'm to get 
 shoes for my cats V says he, ' for you increase your family four times a 
 year, and you have six or seven every time,' says he, ' and then you 
 must all have two pair apiece — wirra ! wirra ! — 111 be ruined in shoe 
 leather,' says Tom. 
 
 " ' No more o' your stuff,' says the cat, 'don't be standin' here undher 
 the hedge talkin', or we'll lose our karacthers — for I've remarked your 
 wife is jealous, Tom.' 
 
 '" 'Pon my sowl, that's threw,' says Tom, with a smirk. 
 
 " ' More fool she,' says the cat, ' for, 'pon my conscience, Tom, you're 
 as ugly as if you wor bespoke.' 
 
 " Off ran the cat with these words, leaving Tom in amazement; — he 
 said nothing to the family for fear of fright'ning them, and off he went to 
 the town, as he pretended — for he saw the cat watching him through a 
 hole in the hedge ; but when he came to a turn at the end of the road, 
 the dickins a mind he minded the market, good or bad, but went off to 
 Squire Botherum's, the magisthrit, to sware examinations agen the cat." 
 
 " Pooh ! pooh ! — nonsense ! !"— broke in the little man, who had lis- 
 tened thus far to Murtough with an expression of mingled wonder and 
 contempt, while the rest of the party willingly gave up the reins to non- 
 sense, and enjoyed Murtough's Legend, and their companion's more 
 absurd common sense. 
 
 " Don't interrupt him, Goggins," said Mister Wiggins. 
 
 '' How can you listen to such nonsense ?" returned Goggins. " Swear 
 examinations against a cat, indeed ! pooh ! pooh ! " 
 
202 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 " My dear sir," said Murtough, "remember this is a fairy story ? and 
 that the country all around here is full of enchantment. As I was 
 telling you, Tom went off to swear examinations." 
 
 " Ay, ay ! " shouted all but Goggins ; " go on with the story." 
 
 " And when Tom was asked to relate the events of the morning, 
 which brought him before Squire Botherum, his brain was so bewildered 
 between his corn, and his cat, and his child's toe, that he made a very 
 confused account of it. 
 
 " ' Begin your story from the beginning,' — said the magistrate to 
 Tom. 
 
 " ' Well, your honour,' says Tom, ' I was goin' to market this mornin', 
 to sell the child's corn, — I beg your pard'n — my own toes, I mane, sir.' 
 
 " ' Sell your toes V said tbe squire. 
 
 " ' No, sir, takin' the cat to market, I mane — ' 
 
 " ' Take a cat to market?' said the squire — ' You're drunk, man.' 
 
 " ' No, your honour, only confused a little ; for when the toes began 
 to spake to me — the cat, I mane — I was bothered clane — ' 
 
 " 'The cat speak to you?' — said the squire; 'Phew! — worse than 
 before ; you're drunk, Tom !' 
 
 " ' No, your honour ; it's on the strength of the cat I come to spake 
 to you — ' 
 
 •' ' I think it's on the strength of a pint o' whisky, Tom — ' 
 
 " ' By the vartue o' my oath, your honour, its nothin' but the cat.' 
 And so Tom then told him all about the affair, and the squire was regu- 
 larly astonished. Just then the bishop of the diocese and the priest of 
 the parish happened to call in, and heard the story, and the bishop and 
 the priest had a tough argument for two hours on the subject ; the 
 former swearing she must be a witch — but the priest denying that, and 
 maintaining she was only enchanted — and that part of the argument was 
 afterwards referred to the primate, and subsequently to the conclave at 
 Rome ; but the pope declined interfering about cats, saying he had 
 quite enough to do minding his own bulls. 
 
 " ' In the mean time, what are we to do with the cat ?' says Botherum. 
 
 " ' Burn her,' says the bishop ; ' she's a witch.' 
 
 " ' Only enchanted,' said the priest — ' and the ecclesiastical court 
 maintains that — ' 
 
 " ' Bother the ecclesiastical court !' said the magistrate ; ' I can only 
 proceed on the statutes ;' and with that he pulled down all the law-books 
 in his library, and hunted the laws from Queen Elizabeth down, and he 
 found that they made laws against every thing in Ireland, except a cat. — 
 The devil a thing escaped them but a cat, which did not come within 
 the meaning of any act of parliament : — the cats only had escaped, 
 
 " ' There's the alien act, to be sure,' said the magistrate, ' and perhaps 
 she's a French spy, in disguise.' 
 
 " ' She spakes like a French spy, sure enough,' says Tom ; ' and she 
 was missin', I remember, all last Spy-Wednesday." 
 
 " ' That's suspicious,' says the squire — ' but conviction might be diffi- 
 cult ; and I have a fresh idea,' says Botherum. 
 
 " ' Faith, it won't keep fresh long, this hot weather,' says Tom ; ' so 
 your honour had betther make use of it at wanst.' 
 
HANDY ANDY. 203 
 
 " ' Riglit,' says Botherum, — -' we'll make her subject to the game laws 5 
 we'll hunt her,' says he. 
 
 " ' Ow ! — elegant !' says Tom ; — ( we'll have a brave run out of her.' 
 
 <f ' Meet me at the cross-roads/ says the squire, ' in the morning, and 
 I'll have the hounds ready.' 
 
 " Well, off Tom went home ; and he was racking his brain what excuse 
 he could make to the cat for not bringing the shoes ; and at last he hit 
 one off just as he saw her cantering up to him, half a mile before he got 
 home. 
 
 " ' Where's the shoes, Tom?' says she. 
 
 " ' I have not got them to-day, ma'am,' says he. 
 
 " ' Is that the way you keep your promise, Tom?' says she ; — ' I'll 
 tell you what it is, Tom — I'll tare the eyes out o' the child re, if you 
 don't get me shoes — ' 
 
 " ' Whisht! whisht!' says Tom, frightened out of his life for his chil- 
 dren's eyes. — { Don't be in a passion, pussey. The shoemaker said he 
 had not a shoe in his shop, nor a last that would make one to fit you ; 
 and he says, I must bring you into the town for him to take your 
 measure.' 
 
 " ' And when am I to go?' says the cat, looking savage. 
 
 " ' To-morrow,' says Tom. 
 
 " ' It's well you said that, Tom,' says the cat, ' or the divil an eye I'd 
 lave in your family this night' — and off she hopped. 
 
 " Tom thrimbled at the wicked look she gave. 
 
 " ' Remember!' says she, over the hedge, with a bitter caterwaul. 
 
 " ' Never fear,' says Tom. 
 
 " Well, sure enough, the next mcrnin' there was the eat at cock-crow, 
 licking herself as nate as a new pin, to go into the town, and out came 
 Tom, with a bag undher his arm, and the cat afther him — 
 
 " ' Now git into this, and I'll carry you into the town,' says Tom, 
 opening the bag. 
 
 " ' Sure I can walk with you,' says the cat. 
 
 " ' Oh, that wouldn't do,' says Torn ; ' the people in the town is 
 curious and slandherous people, and sure it would rise ugly remarks if 
 I was seen with a cat afther me : — a dog is a man's companion by nature, 
 but cats does not stand to rayson.' 
 
 "Well, the cat seeing there was no use in argument, got into the bag, 
 and off Tom set to the cross-roads with the bag over his shoulder, and 
 he came up, quite innocent-like, to the corner, where the squire and his 
 huntsman, and the hounds, and a pack o' people were waitin'. Out came 
 the squire on a sudden, just as if it was all by accident, 
 
 " ' God save you, Tom,' says he. 
 
 " ' God save you kindly, sir,' says Tom. 
 " ' What's that bag you have at your back?' says the squire. 
 " ' Oh, 110th in' at all, sir,' says Tom — makin' a face all the time, as 
 much as to say, I have her safe. 
 
 " ' Oh, there's something in that bag, I think,' says the squire, ' and 
 you must let me see it.' 
 
 " ' If you bethray me, Tom Connor,' says the cat in a low voice, ' by 
 this and that I'll never spake to you again !' 
 
204 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 " ' 'Pon my honour, sir,' says Tom, with a wink and a twitch of h[ 3 
 thumb towards the bag — ' 1 haven't any thing in it.' 
 
 " ' I have been missing my praties of late,' says the squire, ' and I'd 
 just like to examine that bag,' says he. 
 
 " ' Is it doubtin' my charackther, you'd be, sir V says Tom, pretend- 
 ing to be in a passion. 
 
 " ' Tom, your sowl !' says the voice in the sack, ' If you let the cat out 
 of the bag, I'll murther you.' 
 
 " ' An honest man would make no objection to be sarched,' said the 
 squire, ' and I insist on it,' says he, laying hold o' the bag, and Tom 
 pretending to fight all the time ; but, my jewel ! before two minutes, they 
 shook the cat out o' the bag, sure enough, and off she went with her tail 
 as big as a sweeping brush, and the squire, with a thundering view halloo, 
 after her, clapt the dogs at her heels, and away they went for the bare 
 life. Never was there seen such running as that day — the cat made 
 for a shaking bog, the loneliest place in the whole counthry — and there 
 the riders were all thrown out, barrin'the huntsman, who had a web-footed 
 horse on purpose for soft places ; and the priest, whose horse could go 
 anywhere by rayson of the priest's blessing ; and sure enough, the hunts- 
 man and his rivirence stuck to the hunt like wax ; and just as the cat 
 got on the border of the bog, they saw her give a twist as the foremost 
 dog closed with her, for he gave her a nip in the flank. Still she went 
 on, however, and headed them well, towards an old mud cabin in the 
 middle of the bog, and there they saw her jump in at the window, and 
 up came the dogs the next minit, and gathered round the house with the 
 most horrid howling ever was heard. — The huntsman alighted, and went 
 into the house to turn the cat out again — when what should he see but 
 an old hag, lying in bed in the corner — 
 
 " ' Did you see a cat come in here ?' says he. 
 
 " ' Oh, no — o — o — o !' squeeled out the old hag, in a trembling voice, 
 1 there's no cat here,' says she. 
 
 " Yelp, yelp, yelp ! went the dogs outside. 
 
 " ' Oh, keep the clogs out o' this,' says the old hag — ' oh — o — o — o!' 
 and the huntsman saw her eyes glare under the blanket, just like a 
 cat's. 
 
 " ' Hillo !' says the huntsman, pulling down the blanket — and what 
 should he see but the old hag's flank, all in a gore of blood. 
 
 " ' Ow, ow ! you old divil — is it you? you owld cat!' says he, open- 
 ing the door. 
 
 " In rushed the dogs — up jumped the old hag, and changing into a cat 
 before their eyes, out she darted through the window again, and made 
 another run for it ; but she couldn't escape, and the dogs gobbled her 
 while you could say ' Jack Robinson.' But the most remarkable part of 
 this extraordinary story, gentlemen, is, that the pack was ruined from 
 that day out; for after having eaten the enchanted cat, the divil a thine/ 
 they would ever hunt afterivards, but mice." 
 
HANDY ANDY. 205 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 Murphy's story was received with acclamation by all but the little 
 man. 
 
 " That is all a pack of nonsense," said he. 
 
 " Well, you're welcome to it, sir," said Murphy, " and if I had greater 
 nonsense, you should have it ; but seriously, sir, I again must beg you 
 to remember, that the country all round here abounds in enchantment ; 
 scarcely a night passes without some fairy frolic : but however you may 
 doubt the wonderful fact of the cat speaking, I wonder you are not 
 impressed with the points of moral, in which the story abounds — " 
 
 " Fiddlestick ! " said the miniature snarler. 
 
 " First, the little touch about the corn monopoly — then maternal 
 vanity chastised by the loss of the child's toe — then Tom's familiarity with 
 his cat, showing the danger arising from a man making too free with his 
 female domestics — the historical point about the penal laws — the fatal 
 results of letting the cat out o' the bag, with the curious final fact in 
 natural history." 
 
 " It's all nonsense," said the little man, " and I am ashamed of myself 
 for being such a fool as to sit a-listening to such stuff, instead of going 
 to bed, after the fatigue of my journey, and the necessity of rising early 
 to-morrow, to be in good time at the polling." 
 
 " Oh ! then you're going to the election, sir ?" said Murphy. 
 
 "Yes, sir — there's some sense in that — and you, gentlemen, remember 
 we must be all up early — and I recommend you to follow my example." 
 
 The little man rang the bell — the bootjack and slippers were called 
 for, and after some delay, a very sleepy-looking gossoon entered with a 
 bootjack under his arm, but no slippers. 
 
 " Didn't I say slippers ?" said the little man. 
 
 " You did, sir." 
 
 " And where are they, sir ?" 
 
 " The masther says there isn't any, if you plaze, sir." 
 
 " No slippers — and you call this an inn ? Oh ! — well, ' what can't be 
 cured must be endured' — hold me the bootjack, sir." 
 
 The gossoon obeyed — the little man inserted his heel in the cleft, but, 
 on attempting to pull his foot from his boot, he nearly went heels over 
 head backward. — Murphy caught him, and put him on his legs again. 
 
 " Heads up, soldiers," exclaimed Murtough — "I thought you were 
 drinking too much." 
 
206 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 " Sir, I'm not intoxicated," said the mannekin, snappishly — " It is 
 the fault of that vile bootjack — what sort of a thing is that you have 
 brought ?" added he, in a rage, to the gossoon. 
 
 " It's the bootjack, sir ; only one o' the horns is gone, you see," — and 
 he held up to view a rough piece of board, with an angular slit in it, 
 but one of ' the horns,' as he called it, had been broken off at the top, 
 leaving the article useless. 
 
 " How dare you bring such a thing as that?" said the little man, in 
 a great rage. 
 
 " Why, sir, you ax'd for a bootjack, sure, and I brought you the best 
 I had — and it's not my fault it's bruk, so it is, for it wasn't me bruk it, 
 but Biddy batin' the cock." 
 
 " Beating the cock !" repeated the little man, in surprise — " God 
 bless me ! — beat a cock with a bootjack ! what savages !" 
 
 " Oh it's not the hen cock I mane, sir," said the gossoon, " but the beer 
 cock — she was batin' the cock into the barrel, sir, wid the bootjack, sir." 
 
 " That was decidedly wrong," said Murphy ; " a bootjack is better 
 suited to a heel-tap than a full measure." 
 
 " She was tapping the beer, you mean," said the little man. 
 
 " Faix, she wasn't tappin' it at all, sir, but hittin' it very hard, she was, 
 and that's the way she bruk it — " 
 
 " Barbarians !" exclaimed the little man, " using a bootjack instead 
 of a hammer !" 
 
 " Sure the hammer was gone to the priest, sir, bekase he wanted it 
 for the crucifixion." 
 
 " The crucifixion !" exclaimed the little man, horrified ; " is it pos- 
 sible they crucify people ?" 
 
 " Oh no, sir !" said the gossoon, grinning, " it's the picthur I mane, 
 sir — an iligant picthur that is hung up in the chapel, and he wanted 
 a hammer to dhrive the nails — " 
 
 " Oh, a. picture of the crucifixion," said the little man. 
 
 " Yis, sure, sir — the alther piece, that was althered for to fit to the 
 place, for it was too big when it came down from Dublin, so they cut 
 off the sides where the sojers was, bekase it stop't out the windows, 
 and wouldn't lave a bit o' light for his reverence to read mass ; and sure 
 the sojers was no loss out o' the alther piece, and was hung up afther in 
 the vesthrey, and sarve them right, the blackguards. But it was sore 
 agen our will to cut off the ladies at the bottom, that was cryin' and 
 roarin', only, by great good luck, the head o' the blessed Virgin was 
 presarved in the corner, and sure it's beautiful to see the tears runnin' 
 down her face, just over the hole in the wall for the holy wather — which 
 is remarkable." 
 
 The gossoon was much offended by the laughter that followed his 
 account of the altar-piece, which he had no intention of making irreve- 
 rential, and suddenly became silent, with a muttered — " More shame for 
 yiz ;" and as his bootjack was impracticable, he was sent off with orders 
 for the chambermaid to supply bed candles immediately. 
 
 The party soon separated for their various dormitories, the little man 
 leaving sundry charges to call them early in the morning, and to be sure 
 to have hot water ready for shaving, and, without fail, to have their boots 
 
HANDY ANDY. 207 
 
 polished in time, and left at their room doors ; — to all of which injunc- 
 tions he severally received the answer of — " Certainly, sir ;" and as the 
 bed-room doors were slapped to, one by one, the last sound of the retiring 
 party was the snappish voice of the indefatigable little man, shouting, 
 ere he shut his door, — " Early — early — don't forget, Mistress Kelly — 
 early ! " 
 
 A shake-down for Murphy in the parlour was hastily prepared ; and, 
 after Mrs. Kelly was assured by Murtough that he was quite comfortable, 
 and perfectly content with his accommodation, for which she made 
 scores of apologies, with lamentations it was not better, &c. &c, the 
 whole household retired to rest, and in about a quarter of an hour the 
 inn was in perfect silence. 
 
 Then Murtough cautiously opened his door, and after listening for 
 some minutes, and being satisfied he was the only watcher under the 
 roof, he gently opened one of the parlour windows, and gave the pre- 
 concerted signal which he and Dick had agreed upon. Dick was under 
 the window immediately, and after exchanging a few words with Mur- 
 tough, the latter withdrew, and taking off his boots, and screening with 
 his hand the light of a candle he carried, he cautiously ascended the 
 stairs, and proceeded stealthily along the corridor of the dormitory, 
 where, from the chambers on each side, a concert of snoring began to be 
 executed, and at all the doors stood the boots and shoes of the inmates, 
 awaiting the aid of Day and Martin in the morning. But, oh ! — inno- 
 cent calf-skins — destined to a far different fate — not Day and Martin, 
 but Dick the Divil and Company were in wait for you. Murphy col- 
 lected as many as he could carry under his arms, and descended with 
 them to the parlour window, where they were transferred to Dick, 
 who carried them directly to the horse-pond, which lay behind the inn, 
 and there committed them to the deep. After a few journeys up and 
 down stairs, Murtough had left the electors without a morsel of sole or 
 upper leather, and was satisfied that a considerable delay, if not pre- 
 vention of their appearance at the poll on the morrow, would be the 
 consequence. 
 
 " There, Dick," said Murphy, " is the last of them," as he handed the 
 little man's shoes out of the window, — " and now, to save appearances, 
 you must take mine too — for I must be without boots as well as the 
 rest in the morning. What fun I shall have when the uproar begins 
 — don't you envy me, Dick ? There, be off now : I say — though ; not- 
 withstanding you take away my boots, you need not throw them into 
 the horse-pond." 
 
 " Faith, an I will," said Dick, dragging them out of his hands ; 
 " 'twould not be honourable, if I didn't — I'd give two pair of boots for 
 the fun you'll have." 
 
 " Nonsense, Dick — Dick, I say — my boots." 
 
 Honour!" cried Dick, as he vanished round the corner. 
 
 " That divil will keep his word," muttered Murphy, as he closed the 
 window — " I may bid good-bye to that pair of boots— bad luck to him." 
 And yet the merry attorney could not help laughing at Dick making him 
 a sufferer by his own trick. 
 
 Dick did keep his word ; and after, with particular delight, sinking 
 
208 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 Murphy's boots with the rest, he, as it was preconcerted, returned to the 
 cottage of Barny, and with his assistance, drew the upset gig from the 
 ditch, and with a second set of harness provided for the occasion, yoked 
 the servant's horse to the vehicle, and drove home. 
 
 Murphy, meanwhile, was bent on more mischief at the inn ; and lest 
 the loss of the boots and shoes might not be productive of sufficient im- 
 pediment to the movements of the enemy, he determined on venturing a 
 step further. The heavy sleeping of the weary and tipsy travellers 
 enabled him to enter their chambers unobserved, and over the garments 
 they had taken off, he poured the contents of the water-jug and water- 
 bottle he found in each room, and then laying the empty bottle and a 
 tumbler on a chair beside each sleeper's bed, he made it appear as if the 
 drunken men had been dry in the night, and in their endeavours to cool 
 their thirst, had upset the water over their own clothes. The clothes of 
 the little man, in particular, Murphy took especial delight in sousing- 
 more profusely than his neighbours', and not content with taking his 
 shoes, burnt his stockings, and left the ashes in the dish of his candle- 
 stick, with just as much unconsumed as would show what they had 
 been. He then retired to the parlour, and with many an internal 
 chuckle at the thought of the morning's hubbub, threw off his clothes, 
 and flinging himself on the shake-down Mrs. Kelly had provided for him, 
 was soon wrapt in the profoundest slumber, from which he never woke 
 until the morning uproar of the inn aroused him. He jumped from his 
 lair, and rushed to the scene of action, to soar in the storm of his own 
 raising, and to make it more apparent that he had been as great a suf- 
 ferer as the rest, he only threw a quilt over his shoulders, and did not 
 draw on his stockings. In this plight he scaled the stairs and joined 
 the storming party, where the little man was leading the forlorn hope, 
 with his candlestick in one hand, and the remnant of his burnt stocking 
 between the finger and thumb of the other — 
 
 " Look at that, sir !" he cried, as he held it up to the landlord. 
 
 The landlord could only stare. 
 
 " Bless me !" cried Murphy, " how drunk you must have been, to 
 mistake your stocking for an extinguisher !" 
 
 " Drunk, sir ! — I wasn't drunk !" 
 
 " It looks very like it," said Murphy, who did not wait for an answer, 
 but bustled off to another party, who was wringing out his inexpressibles 
 at the door of his bedroom, and swearing at the gossoon, that he must 
 have his boots. 
 
 " I never seen them, sir," said the boy. 
 
 " I left them at my door," said the man. 
 
 "So did I leave mine," said Murphy, "and here I am barefooted — 
 it is most extraordinary." 
 
 "Has the house been robbed?" said the innocent elector. 
 
 "Not a one o' me knows, sir !" said the boy — "but how would it be 
 robbed, and the doors all fast this mornin' 1" 
 
 The landlady now appeared, and fired at the word "robbed!" 
 
 " Robbed, sir !" exclaimed Mrs. Kelly — " no, sir — no one was ever 
 robbed in my house— my house is respectable and responsible, sir— a 
 vartuous house— none o' your rantipole places, sir, I'd have you to know 
 
HANDY ANDY. ?09 
 
 — but decent and well-behaved, and the house was as quiet as a lamb 
 all night." 
 
 " Certainly, Mrs. Kelly,"said Murphy — " not a more respectable 
 house in Ireland — I'll vouch for that." 
 
 " You're a gentleman, Misther Murphy," said Mrs. Kelly, who 
 turned down the passage, uttering indignant ejaculations in a sort of 
 snorting manner, while her words of anger were returned by Murphy 
 with expressions of soothing and condolence, as he followed her down 
 stairs. 
 
 The storm still continued above, and while there they shouted, and 
 swore, and complained, Murphy gave his notion of the catastrophe 
 to the landlady below, inferring that the men were drunk, and poured 
 the water over their own clothes. To repeat this idea to themselves, he 
 re-ascended — but the men were incredulous. The little man he found 
 buttoning on a pair of black gaiters, the only serviceable bit of decency 
 he had at his command, which only rendered his denuded state more 
 ludicrous. — To him Murphy asserted his belief that the whole affair was 
 enchantment, and ventured to hope the small individual would have 
 more faith in fairy machinations for the future ; to which the little 
 abortion only returned his usual " pho ! pho ! — nonsense !" 
 
 Through all this scene of uproar, as Murphy passed to and fro, when- 
 ever he encountered the landlord, that worthy individual threw him a 
 knowing look; and the exclamation of " oh Misther Murphy — by dad !" 
 given in a low chuckling tone, insinuated that the landlord not only 
 smoked but enjoyed the joke. 
 
 " You must lend me a pair of boots, Kelly !" said Murtough. 
 
 " To be sure, sir — ha! ha! ha! — but you are the quare man, Misther 
 Murphy — " 
 
 " Send down the road and get my gig out of the ditch." 
 
 " To be sure, sir—the poor divils. — Purty hands they got into — " and 
 off went the landlord, with a chuckle. 
 
 The messengers sent for the gig returned, declaring there was no 
 gig to be seen anywhere. 
 
 Murphy affected great surprise at the intelligence — again went 
 among the bamboozled electors, who were all obliged to go to bed 
 for want of clothes ; and his bitter lamentations over the loss of his 
 gig almost reconciled them to their minor troubles. 
 
 To the fears they expressed that they should not be able to reach the 
 town in time for polling that day, Murphy told them to set their 
 minds at rest, for they would be in time on the next. 
 
 He then borrowed a saddle, as well as a pair of boots, from the 
 landlord ; and the little black mare bore Murphy triumphantly back to 
 the town, after having securely impounded Scatterbrain's voters, who 
 were anxiously and hourly expected by their friends. — Still they came 
 not. At last Handy Andy, who happened to be in town with Scat- 
 terbrain, was dispatched to hurry them, and his orders were not to come 
 back without them. 
 
 Handy, on his arrival at the inn, found the electors in bed, and all the 
 fires in the house employed in drying their clothes. The little man, 
 wrapped in a blanket, was superintending the cooking of his own before 
 
 p 
 
210 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 the kitchen grate ; — there hung his garments on some cross sticks, 
 suspended from a string, after the fashion of a roasting jack, which the 
 small gentleman turned before a blazing turf fire ; and beside this 
 contrivance of his, swung a goodly joint of meat, which a bouncing 
 kitchen wench came over to baste now and then. 
 
 Andy was answering some questions of the inquisitive little man, when 
 the kitchen maid, handing the basting-ladle to Andy, begged him to do 
 a good turn, and just to baste the beef for her, for that her heart was 
 broke with all she had to do, cooking dinner for so many. 
 
 Andy, always ready to oblige, consented, and plied the ladle actively 
 between the troublesome queries of the little man ; but at last, getting 
 confused with some very crabbed questions put to him, Andy became 
 completely bothered, and lifting a brimming ladle of dripping, poured it 
 over the little man's coat instead of the beef. 
 
 A roar from the proprietor of the clothes followed, and he implanted 
 a kick at such advantage upon Andy, that he upset him into the dripping 
 pan ; and Andy, in his fall, endeavouring to support himself, caught at 
 the suspended articles above him, and the clothes, and the beef, and 
 Andy, all swam in gravy. 
 
■:!"'#W' ; !"' ■'■'»■' ■&•«?" 
 
 fututt^t^~ 
 
 ■ V ,/, / 
 
 - 
 
HANDY ANDY. 211 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 While disaster and hubbub were rife below, the electors up stairs 
 were holding a council whether it would not be better to send back the 
 ' Honourable's' messenger to the town, and request a supply of shoes, 
 which they had no other means of getting. The debate was of an odd 
 sort ; they were all in their several beds at the time, and roared at each 
 other through their doors, which were purposely left open, that they might 
 enjoy each other's conversation ; number seven replied to number three, 
 and claimed respect to his arguments on the score of seniority ; the blue 
 room was completely controverted by the yellow ; and the double-bedded 
 room would, of course, have had superior weight in the argument, only 
 that everything it said was lost by the two honourable members speaking 
 together. The French king used to hold a council, called a "bed of 
 justice," in which neither justice nor a bed had anything to do, so that 
 this Irish conference better deserved the title than any council the 
 Bourbon ever assembled. The debate having concluded, and the 
 question being put and carried, the usher of the black counterpane 
 was desired to get out of bed, and, wrapped in the robe of office, whence 
 he derived his title, to go down stairs and call the ' Honourable's' mes- 
 senger to the 'bar of the house,' and there order him a pint of porter, 
 for refreshment after his ride ; and forthwith to send him back again to 
 the town for a supply of shoes. 
 
 The house was unanimous in voting the supplies. The usher reached 
 the kitchen, and found Andy in his shirt sleeves, scraping the dripping 
 from his livery with an old knife, whose hackled edge considerably 
 assisted Andy's own ingenuity in the tearing of his coat in many places; 
 while the little man made no effort towards the repair of his garment, 
 but held it up before him, and regarded it with a piteous look. 
 
 To the usher of the black counterpane's question, whether Andy was 
 the Honourable's messenger, Andy replied in the affirmative ; but to the 
 desire expressed, that he would ride back to the town, Andy returned a 
 decided negative. 
 
 " My ordhers is not to go back without you," said Andy. 
 
 " But we have no shoes," said the usher ; " and cannot go until we 
 get some." 
 
 " My ordher is, not to go back without you." 
 
 " But if we can't go." 
 
 " Well, then I can't go back, that's all," said Andy. 
 
 The usher, and the landlord, and the landlady, all hammered away at 
 Andy for a long time, in vain trying to convince him he ought to 
 return, as he was desired ; still Andy stuck to the letter of his orders, 
 
 p 2 
 
212 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 and said be often got into trouble for not doing exactly what be was bid, 
 and that ne was bid ' not to go back without them ; and he would not 
 — so he wouldn't — devil a fut.' 
 
 At last, however, Andy was made to understand the propriety of 
 riding back to the town ; and was desired to go as fast as his horse could 
 carry him — to gallop every foot of the way : but Andy did no such 
 tiling ; he had received a good thrashing once for being caught gal- 
 loping his master's horse on the road ; and he had no intention of running 
 the risk a second time, because ' the stranger ' told him to do so. " What 
 does he know about it," said Andy to himself; "faith its fair and aisy I'll 
 go, and not disthress the horse, to plaze any one." So he went back his 
 ten miles only at a reasonable pace ; and when he appeared without the 
 electors a storm burst on poor Andy. 
 
 " There ! — I knew how it would be," said he ; " and not my fault at 
 all." 
 
 " Weren't you told not to return without them ? " 
 
 " But wait till I tell you how it was, sure ;" and then Andy began an 
 account of the condition in which the voters lay at the inn; but between 
 the impatience of those who heard and the confused manner of Andy's 
 recital it was some time before matters were explained : — then Andy 
 was desired to ride back to the inn again, to tell the electors 
 shoes should be forwarded after him in a post-chaise, and requesting 
 their utmost exertions in hastening over to the town, for that the 
 election was going against them. Andy returned to the inn, and this 
 time, under orders from head quarters, galloped in good earnest, and 
 brought in his horse smoking hot, and indicating lameness. The day 
 was wearing apace, and it was so late when the electors were enabled 
 to start, that the polling booths were closed before they could reach the 
 town; and in many of those booths the requisite number of electors had 
 not been polled that day to keep them open, so that the next day 
 nearly all these out electors, about whom there had been so much 
 trouble and expense, would be of no avail. Thus, Murphy's trick was 
 quite successful, and the poor pickled electors driven back to their inn 
 in dudgeon. 
 
 Andy, when he went to the stable to saddle his steed, for a return to 
 Neck-or-Nothing Hall, found him dead lame, so that to ride him better 
 than twelve miles home was impossible. Andy was obliged to leave 
 him where he was, and trudge it to the Hall ; for all the horses in Kelly's 
 stables were knocked up with their day's work. 
 
 As it was shorter by four miles across the country than by the road, 
 Andy pursued the former course, and, as he knew the country well, the 
 shades of evening, which were now closing round, did not deter him in 
 the least. Andy was not very fresh for the journey, to be sure, for he 
 had ridden upwards of thirty miles that day, so the merry whistle, which 
 is so constantly heard from the lively Irish pedestrian, did not while 
 away the tedium of his walk. It was night when Andy was breasting 
 up a low ridge of hills which lay between him and the end of his 
 journey ; and when in silence and darkness he topped the ascent, he 
 threw himself on some heather to rest and take breath. His attention 
 was suddenly caught by a small blue flame, which flickered now and then 
 
HANDY ANDY. 213 
 
 upon the face of the hill, not very far from him ; and Andy's fears of 
 fairies and goblins came crowding upon him thick and fast. He wished 
 to rise, but could not ; his eye continued to be strained with the fascina- 
 tion of fear in the direction he saw the fire, and sought to pierce the 
 gloom through which, at intervals, the small point of flame flashed 
 brightly and sunk again, making the darkness seem deeper. Andy lay 
 in perfect stillness, and in the silence which was unbrcken, even b" his 
 own breathing, he thought he heard voices underground. He trem- 
 bled from head to foot, for he was certain they were the voices of the 
 fairies, whom he firmly believed to inhabit the hills. 
 
 "Oh ! murdher, what '11 I do," thought Andy to himself; " sure I 
 heerd often, if once .you were within the sound of their voices you 
 could never get out o' their power — Oh ! if I could only say a father 
 and ave, but I forget my prayers, with the fright — Hail, Mary ! The 
 king o' the fairies lives in these hills, I know — and his house is undher 
 me this minit, and I on the roof of it — I'll never get down again — they'll 
 make me slater to the fairies ; and sure enough, I remember me, the 
 hill is all covered with flat stones they call fairy slates — Oh! I am 
 ruined — God be praised." Here he blessed himself, and laid his head 
 close to the earth. " Guardian angels — I hear their voices singin' a 
 dhrinking song — Oh ! if I had a dhrop o' wather myself, for my mouth 
 is as dhry as a lime-burner's wig — and I on the top o' their house 
 — see — there's the little blaze again — I wondher is their chimbley 
 a-fire — Oh ! murther, I'll die o' thirst — Oh ! if I had only one dhrop 
 o' wather — I wish it would rain or hail — Hail, Mary, full o' grace 
 — whisht ! — what's that ?" Andy couched lower than before, as he saw 
 a figure rise from the earth, and attain a height which Andy computed 
 to be something about twenty feet ; his heart shrank to the size of 
 a nut-shell, as he beheld the monster expand to his full dimensions ; and 
 at the same moment, a second, equally large, emerged from the ground. 
 
 Now, as fairies are notoriously little people, Andy changed his opinion 
 of the parties into whose power he had fallen, and saw clearly they 
 were giants, not fairies, of whom he was about to become the victim. 
 He would have ejaculated a prayer for mercy, had not terror rendered 
 him speechless, as the remembrance of all the giants he had ever heard 
 of from the days of Jack and the Bean-Stalk down, came into his head ; 
 but though his sense of speaking was gone, that of hearing was pain- 
 fully acute, and he heard one of the giants say — 
 
 " That pot is not big enough." 
 
 " Oh ! it howlds as much as we want," replied the other. 
 
 " O Lord," thought Andy ; " they've got their pot ready for cooking. 
 
 " What keeps him?" said the first giant. 
 
 " Oh ! he's not far off," said the second. 
 
 A clammy shivering came over Andy. 
 
 " I'm hungry," said the first ; and he hiccupped as he spoke. 
 
 " It's only a false appetite you have," said the second ; " you're drunk." 
 
 This was a new light to Andy, for he thought giants were too 
 strong to get drunk. 
 
 "I could ate a young child, without parsley and butther," said the 
 drunken giant. 
 
214 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 Andy gave a faint spasmodic kick. 
 
 "And it's as hot as down there," said the giant- 
 Andy trembled at the horrid word he heard. 
 
 "No wonder," said the second giant ; "for I can see the flame popping 
 out of the top of the chimbley — that's bad — I hope no one will see it, or 
 it might give them warning. Bad luck to that young divil for making 
 the fire so sthrong. 
 
 What a dreadful hearing this was for Andy ;— young devils to make 
 their fires : — there was no doubt what place they were dwelling in. 
 " Thunder and turf! " said the drunken giant ; I wish I had a slice of — 
 
 Andy did not hear what he wished a slice of, for the night wind swept 
 across the heath at the moment, and carried away the monster's disgust- 
 ing words on its pure breath. 
 
 " Well, I'd rather have " said the other giant; and again Andy lost 
 
 what his atrocious desires were — " than all the other slices in the world. 
 What a lovely round shoulder she has — and the nice round ankle of 
 her — " 
 
 The word ' ankle' showed at once it was a woman of whom he spoke, 
 and Andy shuddered. " The monsters ! — to eat a woman." 
 
 " What a fool you are to be in love," said the drunken giant, with 
 several hiccups, showing the increase of his inebriation. 
 
 "Is that what the brutes call love," thought Andy; "to ate a 
 woman ?" 
 
 " I wish she was bone of my bone and flesh of my flesh," said the 
 second giant. 
 
 Of this speech Andy heard only ' bone' and ' flesh,' and had great 
 difficulty in maintaining the serenity of his diaphragm. 
 
 The conversation of the giants was now more frequently interrupted 
 by the wind which was rising, and only broken sentences reached Andy, 
 whose senses became clearer the longer he remained in a state of safety ; 
 at last he heard the name of Squire Egan distinctly pass between the 
 giants. 
 
 " So they know Squire Egan," thought Andy. 
 
 The first giant gave a drunken laugh at the mention of Squire Egan's 
 name, and exclaimed : — 
 
 " Don't be afraid of him (hiccup), I have him undher my thumb 
 (hiccup). I can crush him when I plase." 
 
 " Oh ! my poor owld masther," mentally ejaculated Andy. 
 
 Another break in their conversation occurred, and the next name 
 Andy overheard was " O'Grady." 
 
 " The big bully !" said the second giant. 
 
 " They know the whole country," thought Andy. 
 
 "•But tell me what was that you said to him at the election ? " said 
 the drunken one. 
 
 The word " election" recalled Andy to the business of this earth back 
 again ; and it struck upon his hitherto bewildered sensorium, that giants 
 could have nothing to do with elections, and he knew he never saw 
 them there ; and, as the thought struck him, it seemed as if the giants 
 diminished in size, and did not appear quite so big. 
 
 " Sure you know," said the second. 
 
HANDY AiNDY. 215 
 
 "Well, I'd like to hear it again,'' said the drunken one — [hiccup). 
 
 " The big bully says to me — ' Have you a lease,' says he ? ' no,' says 
 I ; 'but I have an article !' ' What article ? ' says he ; ' It's a fine brass 
 blundherbuss,' says I, ' and Td like to see the man would dispute the title /' " 
 
 The drunken listener chuckled, and the words broke the spell of 
 supernatural terror which had hung over Andy ; he knew, by the words 
 of the speaker, it was the bully joker of the election was present, who 
 browbeat O'Grady and out-quibbled the agent about the oath of alle- 
 giance ; and the voice of the other he soon recognised for that of Larry 
 Hogan. So his giants were diminished into mortal men ; the pot 
 which had been mentioned to the terror of his soul was for the making 
 of whisky instead of human broth, and the "hell" he thought his giants 
 inhabited was but a private still. Andy felt as if a mountain had been 
 lifted from his heart when he found it was but mortals he had to deal 
 with ; for Andy was not deficient in courage when it was but thews and 
 sinews like his own he had to encounter. He still lay concealed, how- 
 ever, for smugglers might not wish their private haunt to be discovered, 
 and it was possible Andy would be voted one too many in the company, 
 should he announce himself ; and with such odds as two to one against 
 him, he thought he had better be quiet. Besides, his curiosity became 
 excited, when he found them speaking of his old master Egan, and his 
 present one O'Grady ; and as a woman had been alluded to, and odd 
 words caught up here and there, he became anxious to hear more of 
 their conversation. 
 
 " So you're in love," said Larry, with a hiccup, to our friend of the 
 blunderbuss ; " ha ! ha! ha! you big fool." 
 
 " Well, you old thief, don't you like a purty girl yourself?" 
 
 " Yis, when I was young and foolish." 
 
 " Faith then, you're young and foolish at that rate yet, for you're a 
 rogue with the girls, Larry," said the other, giving him a slap on the 
 back. 
 
 " Not I ! not I ! " said Larry, in a manner, expressive of his not 
 being displeased with the charge of gallantry ; " he ! he ! he ! — how do 
 you know? eh? {hiccup)." 
 
 " Sure I know myself, but as I was telling you, if I could only lay 
 howld of," here his voice became inaudible to Andy, and the rest of the 
 sentence was lost. 
 
 Andy's curiosity was great — " Who could the girl be ?" 
 
 " And you'd carry her off," said Larry. 
 
 " I would," said the other, " I'm only afeard o' Squire Egan." 
 
 At this announcement of the intention of " carrying her off," coupled 
 with the fear of " Squire Egan," Andy's anxiety to hear the name of 
 the person became so intense, that he crawled cautiously a little nearer 
 to the speakers. 
 
 u I tell you again," said Larry ; " I can settle him, aisy (hiccup) — he's 
 undher my thumb (hiccup)." 
 
 " Be aisy," said the other, contemptuously, who thought this was a 
 mere drunken delusion of Larry's. 
 
 " I tell you I'm his masther ! " said Larry, with a drunken flourish 
 of his arm ; and he continued bragging of his power over the squire hi 
 
216 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 various ejaculations, the exact meaning of which our friend of the blun- 
 derbuss could not fathom, but Andy heard enough to show him that the 
 discovery of the Post-office affair was what Larry alluded to. 
 
 That Larry, a close, cunning, circumventing rascal, should so far 
 betray the source of his power over Egan, may seem strange ; but be 
 it remembered Larry was drunk — a state of weakness which his caution 
 generally guarded him from falling into, but which being in, his foible 
 was bragging of his influence, and so running the risk of losing it. 
 
 The men continued to talk together for some time, and the tenor of 
 the conversation was, that Larry assured his companion he might carry 
 off the girl without fear of Egan, but her name Andy could not 
 discover. His own name he heard more than once, and voluptuous 
 raptures poured forth about lovely lips and hips and ankles from the 
 herculean knight of the blunderbuss, amidst the maudlin admiration 
 and hiccups of Larry, who continued to brag of his power, and profess 
 his readiness to stand by his friend in carrying off the girl. 
 
 " Then," said the Hercules, with an oath, " I'll soon have you in my 
 
 arms my lovely ." 
 
 The name was lost again. 
 
 Their colloquy was now interrupted by the approach of a man and 
 woman, the former being the person for whose appearance Larry made so 
 many inquiries when he first appeared to Andy as the hungry giant; the 
 other was the sister of the knight of the blunderbuss. Larry having hic- 
 cupped his anger against the man for making them wait so long for 
 the bacon, the woman said he should not wait longer without his 
 supper now, for that she would go down and fry the rashers imme- 
 diately. She then disappeared through the ground, and the men all 
 followed. 
 
 Andy drew his breath freely once more, and with caution raised 
 himself gradually from the ground with a careful circumspection, lest 
 any of the subterranean community might be watchers on the hill ; and 
 when he was satisfied he was free from observation he stole away from 
 the spot, with stealthy steps for about twenty paces, and there, as well 
 as the darkness would permit, after taking such landmarks as would 
 help him to retrace his way to the still, if requisite, he dashed down 
 the hill at the top of his speed. This pace he did not moderate until 
 he had placed nearly a mile between him and the scene of his adventure, 
 he then paced slowly to regain his breath. His head was in a strange 
 whirl; — mischief was threatened against some one of whose name he was 
 ignorant ; — Squire Egan was declared to be in the power of an old rascal ; 
 this grieved Andy most of all, for he felt he was the cause of his old 
 master's dilemma. 
 
 " Oh ! to think I should bring him into trouble," said Andy, " the 
 kind and good masther he was to me ever, and I alive to tell it like a 
 blackguard — throth I'd rather be hanged any day than the masther 
 would come to throuble — maybe if I gave myself up and was hanged 
 like a man at once, that would settle it ; faith if I thought it would, I'd 
 do it sooner than Squire Egan should come to throuble ! " and poor 
 Andy spoke but what he felt. Or would it do to kill that blackguard 
 
HANDY ANDY. 217 
 
 Hogan ? sure they could do no more than hang me afther* and that 
 would save the masther, and be all one to me, for they often towld me 
 I'd be hanged. But then there's my sowl," said Andy, and he paused 
 at the thought : " if they hanged me for the letthers, it would be only 
 for a mistake, and sure then I'd have a chance o' glory ; for sure I 
 might go to glory through a mistake ; but if I killed a man on purpose, 
 sure it would be slappin' the gates of heaven in my own face. Faix, 
 I'll spake to Father Blake about it."f 
 
 * How often has the sanguinary penal code of past years suggested this reflection 
 and provoked the guilt it was meant to awe ! Happily now our laws are milder, and 
 more protective from their mildness. 
 
 f In the foregoing passage, Andy stumbles on uttering a quaint pleasantry, for it 
 is partly true as well as droll — the notion of a man gaining Paradise through a mis- 
 take. Our intentions too seldom lead us there, but rather tend the other way, for a 
 certain place is said to be paved with good ones, and surely bad ones would not lead 
 us upwards. Then the phrase of a man " slapping the gates of Heaven in his own 
 face," is one of those wild poetic figures of speech in which the Irish peasantry 
 often indulge : the phrase " slapping the door," is every day and common ; but when 
 applied to " the gates of heaven" and " in a man's own face," the common phrase 
 becomes fine. But how often the commonest things become poetry by the fitness of 
 their application, though poetasters and people of small minds think greatness of 
 thought lies in big words. 
 
218 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 The following day was that eventful one which should witness the 
 return of either Edward Egan, Esq., or the Honourable Sackville 
 Scatterbrain, as member for the county. There was no doubt, in any 
 reasonable man's mind, as to the real majority of Egan, but the numbers 
 were sufficiently close to give the sheriff an opportunity of doing a bit 
 of business to oblige his friends, and therefore he declared the Honourable 
 Sackville Scatterbrain duly elected. Great was the uproar ; the people 
 hissed and hooted and groaned, for which the Honourable Sackville 
 very good-naturedly returned them his thanks. Murphy snapped his 
 fingers in the sheriff's face, and told him his honourable friend should 
 not long remain member, for that he must be unseated on petition, and 
 that he would prove the return most corrupt, with which words he again 
 snapped his fingers in the sheriff's face. 
 
 The sheriff threatened to read the riot act if such conduct were 
 repeated. 
 
 Egan took off his hat, and thanked him for his honourable, upright, and 
 impartial conduct, whereupon all Egan's friends took off their hats 
 also, and made profound bows to the functionary, and then laughed 
 most uproariously. Counter laughs were returned from the opposite 
 party, who begged to remind the Eganites of the old saying, " that 
 they might laugh who win." A cross fire of sarcasms was kept up 
 amidst the two parties as they were crushing forward out of the court- 
 house ; and at the door, before entering his carriage, Scatterbrain very 
 politely addressed Egan, and trusted that though they had met as rivals 
 on the hustings, they nevertheless parted friends, and expressing the 
 highest respect for the squire, offered his hand in amity. 
 
 Egan, equally good-hearted as his opponent, shook his hand cor- 
 dially, declaring he attributed to him none of the blame which attached 
 to other persons. " Besides, my dear sir," said Egan, laughing, " I 
 should be a very ill-natured person to grudge you so small an indulgence 
 as being member of parliament for a month or so." 
 
 Scatterbrain returned the laugh good-humouredly, and replied that, 
 u at all events, he had the seat." 
 
 " Yes, my dear sir," said Egan, "and make the most of it while you 
 have it. In short, I shall owe you an obligation when I go over to 
 St. Stephen's, for you will have just aired my seat for me — good bye." 
 
 They parted with smiles, and drove to their respective homes ; but 
 as even doubtful possession is preferable to expectation for the time 
 being, it is certain that Neck-or-Nothing Hall rang with more merri- 
 ment that night on the reality of the present, than Merryvale did on 
 the hope of the future. 
 
HANDY ANDY. 'J 19 
 
 Even O'Grady, as he lay with his wounded arm on the sofa, found 
 more healing in the triumph of the hour than from all the medicaments 
 of the foregoing week, and insisted on going down stairs and joining 
 the party at supper. 
 
 " Gusty dear," said his wife, " you know the doctor said " 
 
 " Hang the doctor !" 
 " Your arm, my love." 
 
 " I wish you'd lave off pitying my arm and have some compassion on 
 my stomach." 
 
 " The doctor said " 
 
 " There are oysters in house — I'll do myself more good by the use 
 of an oyster knife than all the lancets in the College of Surgeons." 
 
 " But your wound, dear V* 
 
 " Are they Carlingford's or Poldoody ? " 
 
 " So fresh, love." 
 
 " So much the better." 
 
 " Your wound I mean, dear 1 " 
 
 " Nicely opened." 
 
 " Only dressed an hour ago?" 
 
 " With some mustard, pepper, and vinegar." 
 
 " Indeed Gusty, if you take my advice — " 
 
 " I'd rather have oysters any day." 
 
 O'Grady sat up on the sofa as he spoke, and requested his wife to 
 say no more about the matter, but put on his cravat. While she was 
 getting it from his wardrobe, his mind wandered from supper to the 
 pension which he looked upon as secure now that Scatterbrain was 
 returned ; and oyster banks gave place to the Bank of Ireland, which 
 rose in a pleasing image before O'Grady's imagination. The wife now 
 returned with the cravat, still dreading the result of eating to her 
 husband, and her mind occupied wholly with the thought of supper, 
 while O'Grady was wrapped in visions of a pension. 
 
 " You won't take it, Gusty, dear," said his wife, with all the insinua- 
 tion of manner she could command. 
 
 "Won't I faith," said O'Grady. " Maybe you think I don't want 
 it?" 
 
 " Indeed I don't, dear." 
 
 " Are you mad, woman ? Is it taking leave of the few senses you ever 
 had you are ? " 
 
 " 'T won't agree with you." 
 
 " Won't it? just wait till I'm tried." 
 
 " Well, love — how much do you expect to be allowed ?" 
 
 "Why I can't expect much just yet — we must begin gently — feel the 
 pulse first ; but I should hope by way of a start that six or seven hun- 
 dred " 
 
 " Gracious heaven !" exclaimed the wife, dropping the cravat from 
 her hands. 
 
 " What the devil is the woman shouting at ?" said O'Grady. 
 
 " Six or seven hundred ! ! ! " exclaimed Mrs. O'Grady ; " my dear, 
 there's not as much in the house." 
 
220 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 " No, nor has not been for many a long day ; I know that as well as 
 you," said O 'Grady ; " but I hope we shall get as much for all that." 
 
 " My dear, where could you get them V asked the wife, timidly, who 
 began to think his head was a little light. 
 
 " From the treasury, to be sure." 
 
 M The treasury, my dear ?" said the wife, still at fault ; " how could 
 you get oysters from the treasury V 
 
 " Oysters ?" exclaimed O'Grady, whose turn it was now to wonder, 
 u who talks of oysters ?" 
 
 " My dear, I thought you said you'd eat six or seven hundred of 
 oysters," 
 
 " Pooh ! pooh ! woman ; it is of the pension I'm talking — six or seven 
 hundred pounds — pounds — cash — per annum ; now I suppose you'll 
 put on my cravat. I think a man may be allowed to eat his supper who 
 expects six hundred a-year.'' 
 
 A great many people besides O'Grady order suppers, and dinners 
 too, on the expectation of less than six hundred a-year. Perhaps there 
 is no more active agent for sending people into the Insolvent Court 
 than the aforesaid " expectation." 
 
 O'Grady went down stairs, and was heartily welcomed by Scatterbrain 
 on his re-appearance from his sickroom; but Mrs. O'Grady suggested, 
 that, for fear any excess would send him back there for a longer time, 
 a very moderate indulgence at the table must suffice. She begged the 
 honourable member to back her argument, which he did ; and O'Grady 
 promised temperance, but begged the immediate appearance of the 
 oysters, for he expressed that longing desire which delicate health so 
 often prompts for some particular food. 
 
 Andy was laying the table at the time, and was ordered to expedite 
 matters as much as possible. 
 
 " Yis, ma'am." 
 
 " You're sure the oysters are all good, Andy? " 
 
 " Sartin, ma'am." 
 
 " Because the last oysters you know — " 
 
 " Oh yis, ma'am — were bad, ma'am — bekase they had their mouths 
 all open. I remember, ma'am ; but when I'm towld a thing once, I 
 never forget it again ; and you towld me when they opened their mouths 
 once, they were no good. So.you see, ma'am, I'll never bring up bad 
 oysthers again, ma'am." 
 
 " Very good, Andy; and you have kept them in a cool place I hope." 
 
 " Faix they're cowld enough where I put them, ma'am." 
 
 " Very well ; bring them up at once." 
 
 Off went Andy, and returned with all the haste he could with a large 
 dish heaped with oysters. 
 
 O'Grady rubbed his hands with the impatience of a true lover of the 
 crustaceous delicacy, and Scatterbrain, eager to help him, flourished 
 his oyster-knife ; but before he had time to commence operations, the 
 olfactory nerves of the company gave evidence that the oysters were 
 rather suspicious ; every one began sniffing, and a universal " Oh dear !" 
 ran round the table. 
 
HANDY ANDY. 221 
 
 " Don't you smell it, Furlong ? " said Scatterbrain, who was so lost 
 in looking at Augusta's mustachios that he did not mind anything else. 
 
 " Isn't it horrid ? " said O'Grady, with a look of disgust. 
 
 Furlong thought he alluded to the mustachio, and replied with an 
 assurance that he ' liked it of all things.' 
 
 "Like it?" said O'Grady; "You've a queer taste — What do you 
 think of it, Miss," added he to Augusta, "it's just under your nose?" 
 
 Furlong thought this rather personal, even from a father. 
 
 " I'll try my knife on one," said Scatterbrain, with a flourish of the 
 oyster knife, which Furlong thought resembled the preliminary trial of 
 the barber's razor. 
 
 Furlong thought this worse than O'Grady ; but he hesitated to reply 
 to his chief — and an honourable into the bargain. 
 
 In the mean time, Scatterbrain opened an oyster, which Furlong, in 
 his embarrassment and annoyance, did not perceive. 
 
 " Cut off the beard," said O'Grady—" I don't like it." 
 
 This nearly made Furlong speak, but considering O'Grady's temper 
 and ill health, he hesitated, till he saw Augusta rubbing her eye, in 
 consequence of a small splinter of the oyster-shell having struck it from 
 Scatterbrain's mismanagement of his knife ; but Furlong thought she 
 was crying, and then he could be silent no longer ; he went over to 
 where she sat, and with a very affectionate demonstration, in action, 
 said — 
 
 " Never mind them, dear Gussy — nevermind — don't cwy — 1 love her 
 dear little moustachios — I do." He gave a gentle pat on the back of 
 the neck, as he spoke, and it was returned by an uncommonly smart 
 box on the ear from the young lady, and the whole party looked thun- 
 derstruck. ' Dear Gussy ' cried for spite, and stamped her way out of 
 the room, followed by Furlong. 
 
 "Let them go," said O'Grady ; " they'll make it up outside." 
 
 " These oysters are all bad," said Scatterbrain. 
 
 O'Grady began to swear at his disappointment — he had set his heart 
 on oysters. Mrs. O'Grady rang the bell — Andy appeared. 
 
 " How dare you bring up such oysters as these ?" roared O'Grady. 
 
 " The misthris ordhered them, sir." 
 
 " I told you never to bring up bad oysters," said she. 
 
 " Them's not bad, ma'am," said Andy. 
 
 " Have you a nose?" cried O'Grady. 
 
 " Yis, sir." 
 
 " And can't you smell them, then ? " 
 
 " Faix I smelt them for the last three days, sir." 
 
 " And how could you say they were good then ?" asked his mistress. 
 
 " Sure you tould me, ma'am, that if they didn't open their mouths 
 they were good, and I'll be on my book oath them oysters never opened 
 their mouths since I had them, for I laid them on a cool flag in the 
 kitchen, and put the jack weight over them." 
 
 Notwithstanding O'Grady's rage, Scatterbrain could not help roaring 
 with laughter at Andy's novel contrivance for keeping oysters fresh. 
 Andy was desired to take the "ancient and fish-like smell" out of the 
 room, amidst jeers and abuse ; and, as he fumbled his way to the kitchen 
 
222 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 in the dark, lamenting the hard fate of servants, who can never give 
 satisfaction, though they do everything Ihey are bid, he went head over 
 heels down stairs ; which event was reported to the whole house as soon 
 as it happened, by the enormous clatter of the broken dish, the oysters, 
 and Andy, as they all rolled one over the other to the bottom. 
 
 O'Grady, having missed the cool supper he intended, and had longed 
 for, was put into a rage by the disappointment ; and as hunger with 
 O'Grady was only to be appeased by broiled bones, accordingly, against 
 all the endeavours of every body, the bells rang violently through the 
 house, and the ogre-like cry of 'broiled bones,' resounded high and low. 
 
 The reader is sufficiently well acquainted with O'Grady by this time 
 to know, that of course, when once he had determined to have his broiled 
 bone, nothing on the face of the earth could prevent it but the want of 
 anything to broil, or the immediate loss of his teeth ; and as his masti- 
 cators were in order, and something in the house which could carry 
 mustard and pepper, the invalid primed and loaded himself with as 
 much combustible matter as exploded in a fever the next day. 
 
 The supper party, however, in the hope of getting him to bed, sepa- 
 rated soon ; and as Scatterbrain and Furlong were to start early in the 
 morning for Dublin, the necessity of their retiring to rest was pleaded. 
 The Honourable member had not been long in his room when he heard 
 a tap at his door, and his order to ' come in,' was followed by the appear- 
 ance of Handy Andy. 
 
 " I found somethin' on the road nigh the town to-day, sir, and I 
 thought it might be yours, maybe," said Andy, producing a small 
 pocket book. 
 
 The honourable member disavowed the ownership. 
 
 " Well, there's something else I want to spake to your .honour about." 
 
 " What is it, Handy ? " 
 
 " I want your honour to see the account of the money your honour 
 gave me ; I spint at the shebeen* upon the 'lecthors that couldn't be 
 accommodated at Mrs. Fay's." 
 
 " Oh ! never mind it, Andy — if there's anything over, keep it 
 yourself." 
 
 " Thank your honour, but I must make the account all the same, if 
 you plaze, for I'm goin' to Father Blake, to my dutyf soon, and I must 
 have my conscience as clear as I can, and I wouldn't like to be keepin' 
 money back." 
 
 " But if I give you the money, what matter ?" 
 
 " I'd rather you'd just look over this little bit of a count, if you 
 plaze," said Andy, producing a dirty piece of paper, with some nearly 
 inscrutable hieroglyphics upon it. 
 
 Scatterbrain commenced an examination of this literary phenomenon 
 from sheer curiosity, asking Andy, at the same time, if he wrote it. 
 
 " Yis, sir," said Andy. " But you see the man wouldn't keep the 
 count of the piper's dhrinkat all, it was so confusin', and so I was obli- 
 ged to pay him for that, every time the piper dhrunk, and keep it separate, 
 and the 'lecthors that got their dinner afther the bill was made out, 
 
 * Low public-house. f Confession 
 
HANDY ANDY. 22* 
 
 J put down myself too, and that's it you see, sir, both ating and 
 dhrinkin." 
 
 To Dhrinkin A blinD piper everry dai wan and tin Pens six dais 16 6 
 
 f • o o 
 
 To atein four Tin Illikthurs And Thare horses on Chewsdai ■! n 14 
 
 Toe til . 2 19 4 
 
 Lan lord Bil For All Be four . . 7 17 8£ 
 
 10 18 124 
 
 " Then I owe you money, instead of your having a balance in hand, 
 Andy," said the member. 
 
 *' Oh, no matther, your honour, it's not for that I showed you the 
 account. 
 
 " It's very like it, though," said Scatterbrain, laughing ; " here Andy, 
 here are a couple of pounds for you, take them, Andy — take it and be 
 off. Your bill is worth the money," and Scatterbrain closed the door 
 on the great accountant. 
 
 Andy next went to Furlong's room, to know if the pocket-book be- 
 longed to him ; it did not, but Furlong, though he disclaimed the 
 ownership, had that small curiosity which prompts little minds to pry 
 into what does not belong to them ; and taking the pocket-book into his 
 hands, he opened it, and fumbled over its leaves ; in the doing of which 
 a small piece of folded paper fell from one of the pockets unnoticed 
 by the impertinent inquisitor or Andy, to whom he returned the book 
 when he had gratified his senseless curiosity. 
 
 Andy withdrew, Furlong retired to rest, and as it was in the grey 
 of an autumnal morning he dressed himself, the paper still remained 
 unobserved ; so that the housemaid, on setting the room to rights, found 
 it, and fancying Miss Augusta was the proper person to confide Mister 
 Furlong's stray papers to, she handed that young lady the manuscript 
 which bore the following copy of verses : — 
 
 I can ne'er forget tfjee 
 i. 
 
 It is the chime, the hour draws near 
 
 V/hen you and I must Eever; 
 Alas, it must be many a year, 
 
 And it may he for ever ! 
 How long till we shall meet again : 
 
 How short since first I met thee ; 
 How brief the bliss — how long the pain — 
 
 For I can ne'er forget thee. 
 
 You said my heart was cold and stern ; 
 
 You doubted love when strongest : 
 In future days you'll live to learn 
 
 Proud hearts can love the longest. 
 Oh ! sometimes think, when press'd to hear, 
 
 When flippant tongues beset thee, 
 That all must love thee, when thou'rt near ; 
 
 But one will ne'er forget thee ! 
 
224 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 The changeful sand doth only know 
 
 The shallow tide and latest; 
 The rocks have mark'd its highest flow, 
 
 The deepest and the greatest ; 
 And deeper still the flood-marks grow : — 
 
 So, since the hour I've met thee, 
 The more the tide of time doth flow, 
 
 The less can I forget thee ! 
 
 When Augusta saw the lines she was charmed. She discovered 
 her Furlong to be a poet! That the lines were his there was no doubt 
 — they were found in his room, and of course they must be his, just as 
 partial critics say certain ancient Irish airs must be English, b'ecause 
 they are to be found in Queen Elizabeth's music book. 
 
 Augusta was so charmed with the lines, that she amused herself for 
 a long time in hiding them under the sofa cushion, and making her 
 pet dog find and fetch them. Her pleasure, however, was interrupted 
 by her sister Charlotte remarking, when the lines were shown to her in 
 triumph, that the writing was not Furlong's, but in a lady's hand. 
 
 Even as beer is suddenly soured by thunder, so the electric influence 
 of Charlotte's words, converted all Augusta had been brewing, to acidity ; 
 jealousy stung her like a wasp, and she boxed her dog's ears as he was 
 barking for another run with the verses. 
 
 " A lady's hand ?" said Augusta, snapping the paper from her sister ; 
 " I declare if it a'nt ! the wretch — so he receives lines from ladies." 
 
 " I think I know the hand too," said Charlotte. 
 
 " You do?" exclaimed Augusta, with flashing eyes. 
 
 " Yes — I'm certain it is Fanny Dawson's writing." 
 
 " So it is," said Augusta, looking at the paper as if her eyes could 
 have burnt it ; " to be sure— he was there before he came here." 
 
 " Only for two days," said Charlotte, trying to slake the flame she 
 had raised." 
 
 " But I've heard that girl always make conquests at first sight," re- 
 turned Augusta, half-crying ; "and what do I see here? some words 
 in pencil." 
 
 The words were so faint as to be scarcely perceptible, but Augusta 
 deciphered them ; they were written on the margin, beside a circum- 
 flex which embraced the last four lines of the second verse, so that it 
 stood thus : — 
 
 Oh, sometimes think, when, press'd to hear, "\ rw«.«, ivw. 
 
 When flippant tongues beset thee, j 
 
 That all must love thee when thou'rt near, [ 
 
 But one will ne'er forget thee. J 
 
 " Will you indeed?" said Augusta, crushing the paper in her hand, 
 and biting it; "but I must not destroy it — I must keep it to prove his 
 treachery to his face." She threw herself on the sofa as she spoke, 
 and gave vent to an outpour of spiteful tears. 
 
HAJSDY ANDY 22. r ) 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 How many chapters have been written about love verses — and how many 
 more might be written ! — might, would, could, should, or ought to be 
 written — I will venture to say, will be written ! I have a mind to fulfil 
 my own prophecy, and write one myself ; but no — my story must go on. 
 However, I will say, that it is quite curious in how many ways the same 
 little bit of paper may influence different people : the poem whose 
 literary merit may be small, becomes precious when some valued hand 
 has transcribed the lines ; and the verses, whose measure and meaning 
 viewed in type might win favour and yield pleasure, shoot poison from 
 their very sweetness, when read in some particular hand, and under par- 
 ticular circumstances. It was so with the copy of verses Augusta had 
 just read — they were Fanny Dawson's manuscript — that was certain 
 — and found in the room of Augusta's lover ; therefore Augusta was 
 wretched. But these same lines had given exquisite pleasure to another 
 person, who was now nearly as miserable as Augusta in having lost them. 
 It is possible the reader guesses that person to be Edward O'Connor, for 
 it was he who had lost the pocket-book in which those (to him) precious 
 lines were contained ; and if the little case had held all the bank-notes 
 he ever owned in his life, their loss would have been regarded less than 
 that bit of manuscript, which had often yielded him the most exquisite 
 pleasure, and was now inflicting on Augusta the bitterest anguish. 
 
 To make this intelligible to the reader, it is necessary to explain under 
 what circumstances the lines were written. At one time, Edward, 
 doubting the likelihood of making his way at home, was about to go to 
 India, and push his fortunes there ; and at that period, those lines, 
 breathing of farewell — implying the dread of rivals during absence — 
 and imploring remembrance of his eternal love, were written, and given 
 to Fanny ; and she, with that delicacy of contrivance, so peculiarly a 
 woman's, hit upon the expedient of copying his own verses, and sending 
 them to him in her writing, as an indication that the spirit of the lines 
 was her own. 
 
 But Edward saw that his father, who was advanced in years, looked 
 upon a separation from his son as an eternal one, and the thought 
 gave so much pain, that Edward gave up the idea of expatriation. 
 Shortly after, however, the misunderstanding with Major Dawson took 
 place, and Fanny and Edward were as much severed as if dwelling in 
 different zones. Under such circumstances, those lines were peculiarly 
 precious, and many a kiss had Edward impressed upon them, though 
 Augusta thought them fitter for the exercise of her teeth than her lips. 
 In fact, Edward did little else than think of Fanny ; and it is possible his 
 
 Q 
 
226 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 passion might have degenerated into mere love-sickness, and enfeebled 
 him, had not his desire of proving himself worthy of his mistress 
 spurred him to exertion, in the hope of future distinction. But still 
 the tone of tender lament pervaded all his poems, and the same pocket- 
 book, whence the verses which caused so much commotion fell, contained 
 the following also, showing how entirely Fanny possessed his heart and 
 occupied his thoughts : — 
 
 TO)en $e sbun sfafcs to Mm 
 i. 
 
 When the sun sinks to rest, 
 And the star of the west 
 
 Sheds its soft silver light o'er the sea, 
 What sweet thoughts arise, 
 As the dim twilight dies — 
 
 For then I am thinking of thee ! 
 Oh ! then crowding fast 
 Come the joys of the past, 
 
 Through the dimness of days long gone by, 
 Like the stars peeping out, 
 Through the darkness ahout, 
 
 From the soft silent depth of the sky. 
 
 II. 
 
 And thus, as the night 
 Grows more lovely and bright, 
 
 With the clust'ring of planet and star, 
 So this darkness of mine 
 Wins a radiance divine 
 
 From the light that still lingers afar. 
 Then welcome the night, 
 With its soft holy light ! 
 
 In its silence my heart is more free 
 The rude world to forget, 
 Where no pleasure I've met 
 
 Since the hour that I parted from thee. 
 
 But we must leave love verses, and ask pardon for the few remarks 
 into which the subject tempted us, and pursue our story. 
 
 The first prompting of Augusta's anger, when she had recovered her 
 burst of passion, was to write " such a letter" to Furlong — and she spent 
 half a day at the work, but she could not please herself — she tore twenty 
 at least, and determined, at last, not to write at all, but just wait till he 
 returned, and overwhelm him with reproaches. But though she could 
 not compose a letter, she composed herself by the endeavour, which 
 acted as a sort of safety-valve to let off the superabundant steam ; and it 
 is wonderful how general is this result of sitting down to write angry 
 letters : people vent themselves of their spleen on the uncomplaining 
 paper, which silently receives words a listener would not. With a pen for 
 our second, desperate satisfaction is obtained with only an effusion of 
 ink, and, when once the pent-up bitterness has oozed out in all the black- 
 ness of that fluid — most appropriately made of the best galls — the time so 
 spent, and the " letting of words," if I may use the phrase, has cooled 
 
HANDY ANDY. 22 7 
 
 our judgment and our passion together — and the first letter is torn :— 'tis 
 too severe ; we write a second — we blot and interline, till it is nearly 
 illegible ; we begin a third ; till at last we are tired out with our own 
 angry feelings, and throw our scribbling by with a " pshaw ! what's 
 the use of it?" or " It's not worth my notice ;" or, still better, arrive at 
 the conclusion, that we preserve our own dignity best by writing with 
 temper, though we may be called upon to be severe. 
 
 Furlong at this time was on his road to Dublin, in happy unconscious- 
 ness of Augusta's rage against him, and planning what pretty little 
 present he should send her specially, for his head was naturally running 
 on such matters, as he had quantities of commissions to execute in the 
 millinery line for Mrs. O'Grady, who thought it high time to be getting 
 up Augusta's wedding-dresses, and Andy was to be despatched the fol- 
 lowing day to Dublin, to take charge of a cargo of band-boxes from the 
 city, to Neck-or-Nothing Hall. Furlong had received a thousand 
 charges from the ladies, " to be sure to lose no time" in doing his devoir 
 in their behalf, and he obeyed so strictly, and was so active in laying 
 milliners and mercers under contribution, that Andy was enabled to start 
 the day after his arrival, sorely against Andy's will, for he would gladly 
 have remained amidst the beauty and grandeur and wonders of Dublin, 
 which struck him dumb for the day he was amongst them, but gave him 
 food for conversation for many a day after. Furlong, after racking his 
 invention about the souvenir to his " dear Gussy," at length fixed on a 
 fan, as the most suitable gift ; for Gussy had been quizzed at home 
 about " blushing" and all that sort of thing, and the puerile perceptions 
 of the attache saw something very smart in sending her wherewith " to 
 hide her blushes." Then the fan was the very pink of fans ; it had 
 quivers and arrows upon it, and bunches of hearts looped up in azure 
 festoons, and doves perched upon them ; though Augusta's little sister, 
 who was too young to know what hearts and doves were, when she saw 
 them for the first time, said they were pretty little birds picking at 
 apples. The fan was packed up in a nice case, and then on scented note 
 paper did the dear dandy indite a bit of namby-pamby badinage to his 
 fair one, which he thought excessively clever : — 
 
 " Dear Ducky Darling, 
 
 "You know how naughty they are in quizzing you about 
 a little something, / won't say what ; you will guess, I dare say — but I 
 send you a little toy, / won't say what, on which Cupid might write this 
 label after the doctor's fashion, ' To be used occasionally, when the 
 patient is much troubled with the symptoms,' 
 
 " Ever, ever, ever 
 
 " Yours, 
 
 " J. F." 
 " P.S. Take care how you open it." 
 
 Such was the note that Handy Andy was given, with particular 
 injunctions to deliver it the first thing on his arrival at the Hall to Miss 
 Augusta, and to be sure to take most particular care of the little case ; 
 all which Andy faithfully promised to do. But Andy's usual destiny 
 
 Q2 
 
228 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 prevailed, and a slight turn of chance quite upset all Furlong's sweet 
 little plan of his pretty present, and his ingenious note, for as Andy was 
 just taking his departure, Furlong said he might as well leave something 
 for him at Reade's the cutler, as he passed through College Green, and he 
 handed him a case of razors which wanted setting, which Andy popped 
 into his pocket, and as the fan case and that of the razors were much 
 of a size, and both folded up, Andy left the fan at the cutler's, and took 
 the case of razors by way of present to Augusta. Fanoy the rage of a 
 young lady with a very fine pair of moustaches, getting such a souvenir 
 from her lover, with a note too, every word of which applied to a beard 
 and a razor, as patly as to a blush and a fan — and this too when her 
 jealousy was aroused and his fidelity more than doubtful in her estimation. 
 
 Great was the row in Neck-or-Nothing Hall ; and when, after three 
 days Furlong came down, the nature of his reception may be better 
 imagined than described. It was a difficult matter, through the storm 
 which raged around him, to explain all the circumstances satisfactorily, 
 but by dint of hard work, the verses were at length disclaimed, the 
 razors disavowed, and Andy at last sent for to " clear matters up." 
 
 Andy was a hopeful subject for such a purpose, and, by his blunder- 
 ing answers, nearly set them all by the ears again ; the upshot of the 
 affair was, that Andy, used as he was to good scoldings, never had such 
 a torrent of abuse poured on him in his life, and the affair ended in 
 Andy being dismissed from Neck-or-Nothing Hall on the instant ; so 
 he relinquished his greasy livery for his own rags again, and trudged 
 homewards to his mother's cabin. 
 
 " She'll be as mad as a hatter with me," said Andy ; " bad luck to 
 them for razhirs, they cut me out o' my place : but I often heard cowld 
 steel is unlucky, and sure I know it now. — Oh ! but I'm always un- 
 fort'nate in having cruked messages. — Well, it can't be helped — and 
 one good thing, at all events, is, I'll have time enough now to go and 
 spake to Father Blake ;" — and with this sorry piece of satisfaction, poor 
 Andy contented himself. 
 
HANDY ANDY. 229 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 The Father Blake of whom Andy spoke, was more familiarly known by 
 the name of Father Phil, by which title Andy himself would have named 
 him, had he been telling how Father Phil cleared a fair, or equally 
 " leathered" both the belligerent parties in a faction-fight, or turned out 
 the contents (or malcontents) of a public-house at an improper hour ; 
 but when he spoke of his Reverence respecting ghostly matters, the 
 importance of the subject begot higher consideration for the man, and 
 the familiar " Father Phil" was dropped for the more respectful title of 
 Father Blake. By either title, or in whatever capacity, the worthy 
 Father had great influence over his parish, and there was a free and 
 easy way with him, even in doing the most solemn duties, which agreed 
 wonderfully with the devil-may-care spirit of Paddy. Stiff and starched 
 formality in any way is repugnant to the very nature of Irishmen ; and 
 I believe one of the surest ways of converting all Ireland from the 
 Romish faith would be found, if we could only manage to have her mass 
 celebrated with the dry coldness of the Reformation. This may seem 
 ridiculous at first sight, and I grant it is a grotesque way of viewing the 
 subject, but yet there may be truth in it, and to consider it for a moment 
 seriously, look to the fact, that the north of Ireland is the stronghold of 
 Protestantism, and that the north is the least Irish portion of the island : 
 — there is a strong admixture of Scotch there, and all who know the 
 country will admit that there is nearly as much difference between men 
 from the north and south of Ireland, as from different countries. The 
 Northerns retain much of the cold formality and unbending hardness of 
 the stranger-settlers from whom they are descended, while the Southern 
 exhibits that warm-hearted, lively, and poetical temperament for which 
 the country is celebrated. The prevailing national characteristics of 
 Ireland are not to be found in the north, where protestantism flourishes ; 
 they are to be found in the south and west, where it has never taken 
 root. And though it has never seemed to strike theologians, that in their 
 very natures some people are more adapted to receive one faith than 
 another, yet I believe it to be true, and perhaps not quite unworthy of 
 consideration. There are forms, it is true, and many in the Romish 
 church, but they are not cold forms, but attractive rather, to a sensitive 
 people ; besides, I believe those very forms, when observed the least 
 formally, are the most influential on the Irish ; and perhaps the splendours 
 of a high mass in the gorgeous temple of the holy city, would appeal 
 less to the affections of an Irish peasant, than the service he witnesses in 
 some half-thatched ruin by a lone hill side, familiarly hurried through 
 by a priest who has sharpened his appetite by a mountain ride of some 
 
230 HANDY ANDY, 
 
 fifteen miles, and is saying mass for the third time, most likely, before 
 breakfast, which consummation of his morning's exercise he is anxious 
 to arrive at. 
 
 It was just in such a chapel, and under such circumstances, that 
 Father Blake was celebrating the mass at which Andy was present, and 
 after which he hoped to obtain a word of advice from the worthy Father, 
 who was much more sought after on such occasions, than his more sedate 
 superior who presided over the spiritual welfare of the parish — and 
 whose solemn celebration of the mass was by no means so agreeable as 
 the lighter service of Father Phil. The Rev. Dominick Dowling was 
 austere and long-winded ; his mass had an oppressive effect on his con- 
 gregation, and from the kneeling multitude might be seen eyes fearfully 
 looking up from under bent brows ; and low breathings and subdued 
 groans often rose above the silence of his congregation, who felt like 
 sinners, and whose imaginations were filled with the thoughts of 
 Heaven's anger ; while the good-humoured face of the light-hearted 
 Father Phil produced a corresponding brightness on the looks of his 
 hearers, who turned up their whole faces in trustfulness to the mercy of 
 that Heaven, whose propitiatory offering their pastor was making for 
 them in cheerful tones, which associated well with thoughts of pardon 
 and salvation. 
 
 Father Dominick poured forth his spiritual influence like a strong 
 dark stream, that swept down the hearer resistlessly, who struggled to 
 keep his head above the torrent, and dreaded to be overwhelmed at the 
 next word. Father Phil's religion bubbled out like a mountain rill, — 
 bright, musical, and refreshing ; — Father Dominick's people had decidedly 
 need of cork jackets : — Father Phil's might drink and be refreshed. 
 
 But with all this intrinsic worth, he was, at the same time, a strange 
 man in exterior manners ; for with an abundance of real piety, he had 
 an abruptness of delivery, and a strange way of mixing up an occasional 
 remark to his congregation in the midst of the celebration of the mass, 
 which might well startle a stranger ; but this very want of formality 
 made him beloved by the people, and they would do ten times as much 
 for Father Phil as for Father Dominick. 
 
 On the Sunday in question, when Andy attended the chapel, Father 
 Phil intended delivering an address to his flock from the altar, urging 
 them to the necessity of bestirring themselves in the repairs of the chapel, 
 which was in a very dilapidated condition, and at one end let in the rain 
 through its worn-out thatch. A subscription was necessary ; and to raise 
 this among a very impoverished people was no easy matter. The 
 weather happened to be unfavourable, which was most favourable to 
 Father Phil's purpose, for the rain dropped its arguments through the 
 roof upon the kneeling people below, in the most convincing manner : 
 and as they endeavoured to get out of the wet, they pressed round the 
 altar as much as they could, for which they were reproved very smartly 
 by his Reverence in the very midst of the mass, and these interruptions 
 occurred sometimes in the most serious places, producing a ludicrous 
 effect, of which the worthy Father was quite unconscious, in his great 
 anxiety to make the people repair the chapel. 
 
 A big woman was elbowing her way towards the rails of the altar, and 
 
HANDY ANDY. 231 
 
 Father Phil, casting a sidelong glance at her, sent her to the right- 
 about, while he interrupted his appeal to heaven to address her thus : 
 
 " Agnus Dei — you'd betther jump over the rails of the althar, I think. 
 — Go along out o' that, there's plenty o' room in the chapel below 
 there — ." 
 
 Then he would turn to the altar, and proceed with the service, till 
 turning again to the congregation, he perceived some fresh offender. 
 
 " Orate, fr aires ! — will you mind what I say to you, and go along out 
 of that, there's room below there. — Thrue for you, Mrs. Finn — it's a 
 shame for him to be thramplin' on you. — Go along, Darby Casy, down 
 there, and kneel in the rain — it's a pity you haven't a dacent woman's 
 cloak undher you, indeed ! — Orate, fratres ! " 
 
 Then would the service proceed again, and while he prayed in silence 
 at the altar, the shuffling of feet edging out of the rain would disturb 
 him, and casting a backward glance, he would say — 
 
 " I hear you there — can't you be quiet and not be disturbin' my mass, 
 you haythens." 
 
 Again he proceeded in silence, till the crying of a child interrupted 
 him. He looked round quickly — 
 
 " You'd betther kill the child, I think, thramplin' on him, Lavery. — 
 Go out o' that — your conduct is scandalous — Dominus vobiscum!" 
 
 Again he turned to pray, and after some time he made an interval in 
 the service to address his congregation on the subject of the repairs, and 
 produced a paper containing the names of subscribers to that pious work 
 who had already contributed, by way of example to those who had not. 
 
 " Here it is," said Father Phil, "here it is, and no denying it — down 
 in black and white ; but if they who give are down in black, how 
 much blacker are those who have not given at all ; — but I hope they 
 will be ashamed of themselves, when I howld up those to honour who 
 have contributed to the uphowlding of the house of God. And isn't it 
 ashamed o' yourselves you ought to be, to lave His house in such a con- 
 dition — and doesn't it rain a'most every Sunday, as if He wished to 
 remind you of your duty — aren't you wet to the skin a'most every Sun- 
 day ? — Oh, God is good to you ! to put you in mind of your duty, 
 giving you such bitther cowlds, that you are coughing and sneezin' every 
 Sunday to that degree, that you can't hear the blessed mass for a comfort 
 and a benefit to you, and so you'll go on sneezin' until you put a good 
 thatch on the place, and prevent the appearance of the evidence from 
 Heaven against you every Sunday, which is condemning you before 
 your faces, and behind your backs too, for don't I see this minit astrame 
 o' wather that might turn a mill running down Micky Mackavoy's back, 
 between the collar of his coat and his shirt ?" 
 
 Here a laugh ensued at the expense of Micky Mackavoy, who cer- 
 tainly was under a very heavy drip from the imperfect roof. 
 
 "And is it laughing you are, you haythens?" said Father Phil, 
 reproving the merriment which he himself had purposely created, that 
 he might reprove it. — " Laughing is it you are — at your backslidings 
 and insensibility to the honour of God — laughing, because when you 
 come here to be saved, you are lost intirely with the wet ; and how, I 
 ask you, are my words of comfort to enter your hearts, when the rain is 
 
232 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 pouring down your backs at the same time ? Sure I have no chance 
 of turning your hearts while you are undher rain that might turn a mill 
 — but once put a good roof on the house, and I will inundate you with 
 piety ! — Maybe it's Father Dominick you would like to have coming 
 among you, who would grind your hearts to powdher with his heavy 
 words." — (Here a low murmur of dissent ran through the throng.) 
 " Ha ! ha ! so you wouldn't like it, I see — very well, very well — take 
 care then, for if I find you insensible to my moderate reproofs, you hard- 
 hearted haythens — you malefacthors and cruel persecuthors, that wo'nt 
 put your hands in your pockets, because your mild and quiet poor fool of 
 a pasthor has no tongue in his head ! — I say, your mild, quiet poor fool 
 of a pasthor, (for I know my own faults, partly, God forgive me !) and 
 I can't spake to you as you deserve, you hard-living vagabones, that are 
 as insensible to your duties as you are to the weather. — I wish it was 
 sugar or salt you were made of, and then the rain might melt you if I 
 could'nt — but no — them naked rafthers grins in your face to no purpose 
 — you chate the house of God — but take care, maybe you won't chate 
 the divil so aisy ;" — (here there was a sensation,) " Ha ! ha ! that makes 
 you open your ears, does it ? — More shame for you ; you ought to 
 despise that dirty enemy of man, and depend on something betther, — 
 but I see I must call you to a sense of your situation with the bottom- 
 less pit undher you, and no roof over you. Oh dear ! dear! dear! — 
 I'm ashamed of you — troth, if I had time and sthraw enough, I'd rather 
 thatch the place myself than lose my time talking to you ; sure the place 
 is more like a stable than a chapel. Oh, think of that ! — the house of 
 God to be like a stable! — for though our Redeemer was born in a 
 stable, that is no reason why you are to keep his house always like one. 
 
 " And now I will read you the list of subscribers, and it will make 
 you ashamed when you hear the names of several good and worthy 
 protestants in the parish, and out of it, too, who have given more than 
 the catholics." 
 
 He then proceeded to read the following list, which he interlarded 
 copiously with observations of his own ; making viva voce marginal 
 notes as it were upon the subscribers, which were not unfrequently 
 answered by the persons so noticed, from the body of the chapel, and 
 laughter was often the consequence of these rejoinders, which Father 
 Phil never permitted to pass without a retort. Nor must all this be 
 considered in the least irreverent. A certain period is allowed between 
 two particular portions of the mass, when the priest may address his 
 congregation on any public matter : an approaching pattern, or fair, or 
 the like ; in which, exhortations to propriety of conduct, or warnings 
 against faction, fights, &c. are his themes. Then they only listen in 
 reverence. But when a subscription for such an object as that already 
 mentioned is under dk-cussion, the flock consider themselves entitled to 
 " put in a word" in case of necessity. This preliminary hint is given 
 to the reader, that he may better enter into the spirit of Father 
 Phil's— 
 
HANDY ANDY. 
 
 233 
 
 SUBSCRIPTION LIST 
 
 FOR THE REPAIRS AND ENLARGEMENT OF BALLYSLOUGIiGUTTHERY CHAPEL. 
 
 Phjlip Blake, P.P. 
 
 Micky Hicky . 
 
 £s.d. 
 7 6 
 
 Billy Riley , 
 Juhn Dwyer 
 
 3 4 
 15 
 
 Peter Hefferman 
 James Murphy 
 Mat Donovan . 
 Luke Dannely 
 Jack Quigly . . 
 Pat Finnegan . 
 Edward O' Connor, 
 Esq 
 
 Nicholas Fagan . . . 
 Young Nicholas Fa- 
 gan 
 
 Tim Doyle , 
 Owny Doyle . 
 
 " He might as well have made it ten 
 shillings : but half a loaf is betther than no 
 bread." 
 
 " Plase your reverence," says Mick from 
 the body of the chapel, " sure seven and six- 
 pence is more than the half of ten shillins." 
 (a laugh.) 
 
 11 Oh ! how witty you are. Faith, if you 
 knew your prayers as well as your arithmetic, 
 it would be betther for you, Micky." 
 
 Here the Father turned the laugh against 
 Mick. 
 
 " Of course he manes to subscribe again." 
 
 " That's something like ! I'll be bound 
 he's only keeping back the odd five shillings 
 for a brush full o' paint for the althar ; it's as 
 black as a crow, instead o' being as white as 
 a dove." 
 
 He then hurried over rapidly some small 
 subscribers as follows: — 
 
 2 « There's for you ! Edward O'Connor, 
 
 Esq. — a protestant in the parish — Two 
 pounds." 
 
 "Long life to him," cried a voice in the 
 chapel. 
 
 " Amen," said Father Phil ; "I'm not 
 ashamed to be clerk to so good a prayer." 
 2 6 
 
 050 " Young Nick is better than owld Nick, 
 
 you see." 
 
 The congregation honoured the Father's 
 
 demand on their risibility. 
 7 6 
 
 10 « \y e \\ done, Owny na Coppal — you de- 
 serve to prosper, for you make good use of 
 your thrivings." 
 
23i 
 
 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 £s.d. 
 
 Simon Leary .026 « You ought to be ashamed o' yourself, 
 
 Bridget Murphy . . 10 c . f . , . J ' 
 
 6 ' Simon : a lone widow woman gives more 
 
 than you." 
 
 Simon answered, " I have a large family, 
 sir, and she has no childhre." 
 
 " That's not her fault," said the priest, — 
 " and maybe she'll mend o' that yet." This 
 excited much merriment, for the widow was 
 buxom, and had recently buried an old hus- 
 band, and, by all accounts, was cocking her 
 cap at a handsome young fellow in the parish." 
 Jude Moylan .... 5 " Very good, Judy, the women are be- 
 having like gentlemen, they'll have their 
 reward in the next world." 
 Pat Finnerty .... 84 " I'm not sure if it is 8s. 4d. or 3s. 4d. 
 for the figure is blotted — but I believe it is 
 85. Ad" 
 
 " It was three and four pince I gave your 
 reverence," said Pat from the crowd. 
 
 " Well, Pat, as I said eight and four pence, 
 you must not let me go back o' my word, so 
 bring me five shillings next week." 
 
 " Sure you wouldn't have me pay for a 
 blot, sir?" 
 
 " Yis, I would — that's the rule of back- 
 mannon, you know, Pat. When I hit the blot, 
 you pay for it." 
 
 Here his reverence turned round, as if look- 
 ing for some one, and called out, " Rafferty ! 
 Rafferty ! Rafferty ! Where are you, Rafferty?" 
 
 An old grey-headed man appeared, bearing 
 a large plate, and Father Phil continued — 
 
 " There now, be active — I'm sending him 
 among you, good people, and such as cannot 
 give as much as you would like to be read 
 before your neighbours, give what little you 
 can towards the repairs, and I will continue 
 to read out the names by way of encourage- 
 ment to you, and the next name I see is 
 that of Squire Egan. Long life to him." 
 ..500 " Squire Egan — five pounds — listen to 
 that — five pounds — a protestant in the parish 
 — five pounds ! Faith, the protestants will 
 make you ashamed of yourselves if you don't 
 take care." 
 ..200 " Not her own parish, either — a kind 
 
 lady." 
 of " And here I must remark that the people 
 
 • • 1 n of Roundtown has not been backward in 
 
 Squikl Egan. 
 
 Mrs. Flanagan . 
 
 James Milligan 
 Roundtown . . 
 
HANDY ANDY. 235 
 
 £ s. d, coming forward on this occasion. I have a 
 long list from Roundtown — I will read it 
 separate."' — He then proceeded at a great 
 pace, jumbling the town and the pounds and 
 the people in a most extraordinary manner ; 
 " James Milligan of Roundtown, one pound ; 
 Darby Daly of Roundtown, one pound ; Sam 
 Finnigan of Roundtown, one pound ; James 
 Casey of Roundpound one town ; Kit Dwyer 
 of Town pound, one round — pound I mane ; 
 Pat Roundpound — Pounden, I mane — Pat 
 Pounden a pound of Poundtown also — There's 
 an example for you! — but what are you 
 about, Rafferty ? I don't like the sound of that 
 plate of yours — you are not a good gleaner 
 , — go up first into the gallery there, where I 
 see so many good-looking bonnets — I suppose 
 they will give something to keep their bonnets 
 out of the rain, for the wet will be into the 
 gallery next Sunday if they don't. I think 
 that is Kitty Crow I see, getting ber bit of 
 silver ready ; them ribbons of yours cost a 
 thrifle, Kitty — Well, good Christians, here is 
 more of the subscription for you. 
 Matthew Lavery ..026 " He doesn't belong to Roundtown — 
 Roundtown will be renowned in future ages 
 for the support of the church. — Mark my 
 words — Roundtown will prosper from this day 
 out — Roundtown will be a rising place." 
 Mark Hennessy. ..026 " One would think they all agreed only to 
 Luke Clancy .... 26 give two and sixpence a piece. And they corn- 
 John Doohn ^ 6 f or table men, too. And look at their names- 
 Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John — the names 
 of the blessed evangelists, and only ten shil- 
 lings among them ! Oh, they are apostles 
 not worthy of the name — we'll call them the 
 poor apostles from this, out," (here a low 
 laugh ran through the chapel,) — " Do you 
 hear that, Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John? 
 Faith ! I can tell you that name will stick to 
 you." — (here the laugh was louder.) 
 
 A voice, when the laugh subsided, ex- 
 claimed, " I'll make it ten shillins, your reve- 
 rence." 
 
 " Who's that?" said Father Phil. 
 " Hennessy, your reverence." 
 " Very well, Mark. I suppose Matthew, 
 Luke, and John, will follow your example ?" 
 " We will, your reverence." 
 " Ha ! I thought vou made a mistake ; 
 
236 
 
 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 Thomas Durfy, Esq. 10 
 
 Miss Fanny Dawson 1 
 
 Dennis Fannin 
 Jemmy Riley . 
 
 7 6 
 0+5 
 
 € s d. we 'jj ca n y 0U now t j ie f a ithf u l apostles — and 
 I think the change in the name is betther than 
 seven and sixpence apiece to you." 
 
 " I see you in the gallery there, Rafferty. — 
 What do you pass that well-dressed woman 
 for? — thry back — ha! — see that — she had 
 her money ready if you only asked for it — 
 don't go by that other woman there — oh ho ! 
 — So you won't give anything, ma'am. — You 
 ought to be ashamed of yourself. — There is 
 a woman with an elegant sthraw bonnet, and 
 she won't give a farthing. — Well now, — afther 
 that, — remember, — I give it from the alther, 
 that from this day out sthraw bonnets pay 
 fi'penny pieces." 
 
 " It's not his parish, and he's a brave gen- 
 tleman." 
 
 " A protestant, out of the parish, and a sweet 
 young lady, God bless her ! — Oh faith, the 
 protestants is shaming you ! ! ! " 
 
 "Very good indeed, for a working mason." 
 " Not bad, for a hedge carpenther." 
 " I gave you ten, plaze your reverence," 
 shouted Jemmy ; " and by the same token, 
 you may remember it was on the Nativity of 
 the blessed Vargin, sir, I gave you the second 
 five shillins." 
 
 " So you did, Jemmy," cried Father Phil 
 — '• I put a little cross before it, to remind 
 me of it ; but I was in a hurry to make a 
 sick call when you gave it to me, and forgot 
 it afther : and indeed myself doesn't know 
 what I did with that same five shillings." 
 
 Here a pallid woman, who was kneeling 
 near the rails of the altar, uttered an impas- 
 sioned blessing, and exclaimed, " Oh, that 
 was the very five shillings, I'm sure, you gave 
 to me that very day, to buy some little com- 
 forts for my poor husband, who was dying in 
 the fever !'' — and the poor woman burst into 
 loud sobs as she spoke. 
 A deep thrill of emotion ran through the flock as this accidental 
 proof of their poor pastor's beneficence burst upon them ; and as an 
 affectionate murmur began to rise above the silence which that emotion 
 produced, the burly Father Philip blushed like a girl at this publication 
 of his charity, and even at the foot of that altar where he stood, felt 
 something like shame in being discovered in the commission of that 
 virtue so highly commended by the Providence to whose worship tbat 
 altar was raised. He uttered a hasty "Whisht — whisht !" and waved with 
 his outstretched hands his flock into silence. 
 
HANDY ANDY. 237 
 
 In an instant one of those sudden changes so common to an Irish 
 assembly, and scarcely credible to a stranger, took place. The multi- 
 tude was hushed — the grotesque of the subscription list had passed 
 away and was forgotten, and that same man and that same multitude 
 stood in altered relations — they were again a reverent flock, and he 
 once more a solemn pastor ; the natural play of his nation's mirthful 
 sarcasm was absorbed in a moment in the sacredness of his office ; and 
 with a solemnity befitting the highest occasion, he placed his hands 
 together before his breast, and, raising his eyes to heaven, he poured 
 forth his sweet voice, with a tone of the deepest devotion, in that reve- 
 rential call to prayer, " Orate, fratres." 
 
 The sound of a multitude gently kneeling down followed, like the 
 soft breaking of a quiet sea on a sandy beach ; and when Father Philip 
 turned to the altar to pray, his pent-up feelings found vent in tears, 
 and while he prayed, he wept. 
 
 I believe such scenes as this are not of unfrequent occurrence in 
 Ireland ; that country so long suffering, so much maligned, and so 
 little understood. 
 
 Suppose the foregoing scene to have been only described antecedent 
 to the woman in the outbreak of her gratitude revealing the priest's 
 charity, from which he recoiled — suppose the mirthfulness of the incidents 
 arising from reading the subscription-list — a mirthfulness bordering on 
 the ludicrous, to have been recorded, and nothing more — a stranger 
 would be inclined to believe, and pardonable in the belief, that the Irish 
 and their priesthood were rather prone to be irreverent ; but observe, 
 under this exterior, the deep sources of feeling that lie hidden, and wait 
 but the wand of divination to be revealed. In a thousand similar ways 
 are the actions and the motives of the Irish misunderstood by those 
 who are careless of them ; or worse, misrepresented by those whose 
 interest, and too often business, it is to malign them. 
 
 Father Phil could proceed no further with the reading of the subscrip- 
 tion-list, but finished the office of the mass with unusual solemnity. 
 But if the incident just recorded abridged his address, and the pub- 
 lication of donors' names by way of stimulus to the less active, it 
 produced a great effect on those who had but smaller donations to 
 drop into the plate ; and the grey-headed collector, who could have 
 numbered the scanty coin before the bereaved widow had revealed 
 the pastor's charity, had to struggle his way afterwards through the 
 eagerly-outstretched hands, that showered their hard-earned pence 
 upon the plate, which was borne back to the altar heaped with contri- 
 butions — heaped as it had not been seen for many a day. The studied 
 excitement of their pride and their shame — and both are active agents 
 in the Irish nature — was less successful than the accidental appeal to 
 their affections. 
 
 Oh ! rulers of Ireland, why have you not sooner learned to lead that 
 people by love, whom all your severity has been unable to drive 1 
 
 When the mass was over, Andy waited at the door of the chapel to 
 catch " his reverence" coming out, and obtain his advice about what 
 he overheard from Larry Hogan ; and Father Phil was accordingly 
 accosted by Andy jusi as he was going to get into his saddle to ride 
 
238 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 over to breakfast with one of the neighbouring farmers, who was holding 
 the priest's stirrup at the moment. The extreme urgency of Andy's 
 manner, as he pressed up to the pastor's side, made the latter pause and 
 inquire what he wanted. 
 
 " I want to get some advice from your reverence," said Andy. 
 
 " Faith, then, the advice I give you is, never to stop a hungry man 
 when he is going to refresh himself," said Father Phil, who had quite 
 recovered his usual cheerfulness, and threw his leg over his little grey 
 hack as he spoke. " How could you be so unreasonable as to expect 
 me to stop here listening to your case, and giving you advice indeed, 
 when I have said three masses* this morning, and rode fifteen miles ; 
 — how could you be so unreasonable, I say 1 " 
 
 " I ax your Rivirence's pardon," said Andy ; " I wouldn't have 
 taken the liberty, only the thing is mighty particular, intirely." 
 
 " Well, I tell you again, never ask a hungry man advice ; for he 
 is likely to cut his advice on the patthern of his stomach ; and it's 
 empty advice you'll get. Did you never hear that a ' hungry stomach 
 has no ears 1 ' " 
 
 The farmer who was to have the honour of the priest's company to 
 breakfast exhibited rather more impatience than the good-humoured 
 Father Phil, and reproved Andy for his conduct. 
 
 " But it's so particular," said Andy. 
 
 " I wondher you would dar to stop his Iiivirence, and he black 
 fastin'. Go along wid you ! " 
 
 " Come over to my house in the course of the week, and speak to 
 me," said Father Phil, riding away. 
 
 Andy still persevered, and taking advantage of the absence of the 
 farmer, who was mounting his own nag at the moment, said the matter 
 of which he wished to speak involved the interests of Squire Egan, or 
 he would not " make so bovvld." — This altered the matter ; and Father 
 Phil desired Andy to follow him to the farm-house of John Dwyer, 
 where he would speak to him after he had breakfasted. 
 
 * The office of die mass must be performed fasting. 
 
 * 
 
HANDY ANDY. 239 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX, 
 
 John Dwyer's house was a scene of activity that day, for not only was 
 the priest to breakfast there, — which is always an affair of honour, — 
 but a grand dinner also was preparing on a large scale ; for a wedding 
 feast was to be held in the house, in honor of Matty Dwyer's nuptials, 
 which were to be celebrated that day with a neighbouring young 
 farmer, rather well to do in the world. The match had been on and 
 off for some time, for John Dwyer was what is commonly called a 
 " close-fisted fellow," and his would be son-in-law could not bring him 
 to what he considered proper terms, and though Matty liked young 
 Casey, and he was fond of her, they both agreed not to let old Jack 
 Dwyer have the best of the bargain in portioning off his daughter, 
 who, having a spice of her father in her, was just as fond of number one 
 as old Jack himself. And here it is worthy of remark, that, though the 
 Irish are so prone in general to early and improvident marriages, no 
 people are closer in their nuptial barter, when they are in a condition 
 to make marriage a profitable contract. Repeated meetings between the 
 elders of families take place, and acute arguments ensue, properly to 
 equalize the worldly goods to be given on both sides. Pots and pans 
 are balanced against pails and churns, cows against horses, a slip of bog 
 against a gravel pit, or a patch of meadow against a bit of a quarry ; a 
 little lime-kiln sometimes burns stronger than the flame of Cupid — the 
 doves of Venus herself are but crows in comparison with a good flock of 
 geese — and a love-sick sigh less touching than the healthy grunt of a 
 good pig ; indeed, the last-named gentleman is a most useful agent in 
 this traffic, for when matters are nearly poised, the balance is often 
 adjusted by a grunter or two thrown into either scale. While matters 
 are thus in a state of debate, quarrels sometimes occur between the 
 lovers ; the gentleman's caution sometimes takes alarm, and more fre- 
 quently the lady's pride is aroused at the too obvious preference given 
 to worldly gain over heavenly beauty ; Cupid shies at Mammon, and 
 Hymen is upset and left in the mire. 
 
 I remember hearing of an instance of this nature, when the lady gave 
 her ci-devant lover an ingenious reproof, after they had been separated 
 some time, when a marriage bargain was broken off, because the lover 
 could not obtain from the girl's father a certain brown filly as part of 
 her dowry. The damsel, after the lapse of some weeks, met her swain at 
 a neighbouring fair, and the flame of love still smouldering in his heart, 
 was reillumed by the sight of his charmer, who, on the contrary, had 
 become quite disgusted with him, for his too obvious preference of 
 profit to true affection. — He addressed her softly in a tent, and asked 
 
240 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 her to dance, but was much astonished at her returning him a look of 
 vacant wonder, which tacitly implied, " Who are you ?" as plain as 
 looks could speak. 
 
 " Arrah, Mary?" exclaimed the youth. 
 
 "Sir!!!'' answered Mary, with what heroines call "ineffable 
 
 disdain." 
 
 " Why one would think you didn't know me !" 
 
 " If I ever had the honour of your acquaintance, sir," answered Mary, 
 "I forget you entirely." 
 
 " Forget me, Mary ? — arrah be, aisy — is it forget the man that was 
 courtin' and in love with you ?" 
 
 " You're under a mistake, young man," said Mary, with a curl of her 
 rosy lip, which displayed the pearly teeth to whose beauty her woman's 
 nature rejoiced the recreant lover was not yet insensible — " You're 
 under a mistake, young man," and her heightened colour made her eye 
 flash more brightly, as she spoke — " You're quite under a mistake — no 
 one was ever in love with r»e" — and she laid signal emphasis on the 
 word — " There was a dirty mane blackguard, indeed, once in love with 
 my father's brown filly, but I forget him intirely." 
 
 Mary tossed her head proudly, as she spoke, and her horse-fancying 
 admirer reeled under the reproof she inflicted, and sneaked from the 
 tent, while Mary stood up, and danced with a more open-hearted lover, 
 whose earnest eye could see more charms in one lovely woman than all 
 the horses of Arabia. 
 
 But no such result as this was likely to take place in Matty Dwyer's 
 case ; she and her lover agreed with one another on the settlement to 
 be made, and Old Jack was not to be allowed an inch over what was 
 considered an even bargain. At length all matters were agreed upon, 
 the wedding day fixed and the guests invited ; yet still both parties were 
 not quite satisfied, for young Casey thought he should be put into 
 absolute possession of a certain little farm and cottage, and have the 
 lease looked over to see all was right, (for Jack Dvvyer was considered 
 rather slippery,) while old Jack thought it time enough to give him 
 possession and the lease and his daughter altogether. 
 
 However, matters had gone so far, that, .as the reader has seen, 
 the wedding feast was prepared, the guests invited, and Father Phil on 
 the spot to help James and Matty, (in the facetious parlance of Paddy,) 
 to " tie with their tongues what they couldn't undo with their teeth." 
 
 When the priest had done breakfast, the arrival of Andy was an- 
 nounced to him, and Andy was admitted to a private audience with 
 Father Phil, the particulars of which must not be disclosed, for in 
 short, Andy made a regular confession before the Father, and, we know 
 confessions must be held sacred ; — but we may say that Andy confided 
 the whole post-office affair to the pastor, — told him how Larry Hogan 
 had contrived to worm that affair out of him, and by his devilish artifice 
 had, as Andy feared, contrived to implicate Squire Egan in the trans- 
 action, and by threatening a disclosure, got the worthy squire into his 
 rillanous power. Andy, under the solemn queries of the priest, posi- 
 tively denied having said one word to Hogan to criminate the squire, 
 and that Hogan could only infer the squire's guilt ; — upon which 
 
HANDY ANDY. 241 
 
 Father Phil, having perfectly satisfied himself, told Andy to make his 
 mind easy, for that he would secure the squire from any harm, and he 
 moreover praised Andy for the fidelity he displayed to the interests of 
 his old master, and declared he was so pleased with him, that he would 
 desire Jack Dwyer to ask him to dinner. — " And that will be no blind 
 nut, let me tell you," said Father Phil — " A wedding dinner, you lucky 
 dog — lashings and lavings, and plenty of dancing afther !" 
 
 Andy was accordingly bidden to the bridal feast whither the 
 guests began already to gather thick and fast. — They strolled about the 
 field before the house, basked in groups in the sunshine, or lay in the 
 shade under the hedges, where hints for future marriages were given to 
 many a pretty girl, and nudges and pinches were returned by small 
 screams suggestive of additional assault, and inviting denials of " Indeed 
 I won't," and that crowning provocative to riotous conduct, " Behave 
 yourself." 
 
 In the meantime, the barn was laid out with long planks supported 
 on barrels or big stones, which, when covered with clean cloths, made 
 a goodly board, that soon began to be covered with ample wooden 
 dishes of corned beef, roasted geese, boiled chickens and bacon, and in- 
 termediate stacks of cabbage, and huge bowls of potatoes, all sending 
 up their wreaths of smoke to the rafters of the barn, soon to become 
 hotter from the crowd of guests, who, when the word was given, rushed 
 to the onslaught with right good-will. 
 
 The dinner was later than the hour named, and the delay arose from 
 the absence of one, who, of all others, ought to have been present — 
 namely — the bridegroom. — But James Casey was missing, and Jack 
 Dwyer had been closeted from time to time with several long-headed 
 grey beards, canvassing the occurrence, and wondering at the default 
 on the bridegroom's part. — The person who might" have been supposed 
 to bear this default the worst, supported it better than any one. — Matty 
 was all life and spirits, and helped in making the feast ready, as if 
 nothing wrong happened, and she backed Father Phil's argument 
 to sit down to dinner at once; — "that if James Casey was not there, 
 that was no reason dinner should be spoiled — he'd be there soon enough 
 ■ — besides, if he didn't arrive in time, it was better he should have good 
 meat cold, than every body have hot meat spoiled — the ducks would be 
 done to cindhers — the beef boiled to rags, and the chickens be all in 
 jommethry " 
 
 So down they sat to dinner : — its heat, its mirth, its clatter, and 
 its good cheer I will not attempt to describe ; suffice it to say, the 
 viands were good, the guests hungry, and the drink unexceptionable ; 
 and Father Phil, no bad judge of such matters, declared he never pro- 
 nounced grace over a better spread. But still, in the midst of the good 
 cheer, neighbours (the women particularly) would suggest to each other 
 the " wondher" where the bridegroom could be ; and even within ear- 
 shot of the bride elect, the low-voiced whisper ran, of " Where in the 
 world is James Casey ?" 
 
 Still the bride kept up her smiles, and cheerfully returned the healths 
 that were drunk to her ; but old Jack was not unmoved — a cloud hung 
 on his brow, which grew darker and darker as the hour advanced and 
 
 R 
 
242 HANDY ANDY 
 
 the bridegroom yet tarried. — The board was cleared of the eatables, and 
 the copious jugs of punch going their round, but the usual toast of the 
 united healths of the happy pair could not be given, for one of them 
 was absent. — Father Phil hardly knew what to do, for even his over- 
 flowing cheerfulness began to forsake him, and a certain air of embarrass- 
 ment began to pervade the whole assembly, till Jack Dwyer could bear 
 it no longer, and standing up, he thus addressed the company. 
 
 "Friends and neighbours — you see the disgrace that's put on me and 
 my child." 
 
 A murmur of " No, no," ran round the board. 
 
 " I say, yis." — 
 
 " He'll come yet, Sir," said a voice. 
 
 " No, he wont," said Jack, " I see he wont — I know he wont. He 
 wanted to have every thing all his own way, and he thinks to disgrace 
 me into doing what he likes, but he sha'nt !" — and he struck the table 
 fiercely as he spoke, for Jack, when once his blood was up, was a man of 
 desperate determination. " He's a greedy chap, the same James Casey, 
 and he loves his bargain betther than he loves you, Matty, so don't look 
 glum about what I'm saying — I say he's greedy, he's just the fellow 
 that if you gave him the roof aff your house, would ax you for the rails 
 before your door — and he goes back of his bargain now, bekase I would 
 not let him have it all his own way, and puts the disgrace on me, 
 thinkin' I'll give in to him, through that same — but I wont. And I 
 tell you what it is, friends and neighbours ; there's the lease of the 
 three-cornered field below there," — and he held up a parchment as he 
 spoke, — " and a snug cottage on it, and it's all ready for the girl to walk 
 into with the man that will have her, and if there's a man among you 
 here that's willing, let him say the word now, and I'll give her to 
 him !" 
 
 The girl could not resist an exclamation of surprise, which her father 
 hushed by a word and look so peremptory, that she saw remonstrance 
 was in vain, and a silence of some moments ensued ; for it was rather 
 startling, this immediate offer of a girl who had been so strangely slighted, 
 and the men were not quite prepared to make advances until they 
 knew something more of the why and wherefore of her sweetheart's 
 desertion. 
 
 "Are yiz all dumb?" exclaimed Jack in surprise. " Faix, it's not 
 every day a snug little field and cottage, and a good-looking girl falls in 
 a man's way; — I say again, I'll give her and the lase to the man that 
 will say the word." 
 
 Still no one spoke, and Andy began to think they were using Jack 
 Dwyer and his daughter very ill, but what business had he to think of 
 offering himself — " a poor devil like him ?" But the silence still con- 
 tinuing, Andy took heart of grace, and as the profit and pleasure of a 
 snug match and a handsome wife flashed upon him, he got up and said, 
 "Would I do, sir?" 
 
 Every one was taken by surprise — even old Jack himself; and Matty 
 could not suppress a faint exclamation, which every one but Andy 
 understood to mean " she didn't like it at all ;" but which Andy inter- 
 preted quite the other way, and he grinned his loutish admiration at 
 
HANDY ANDY. 243 
 
 Matty, who turned away her head from him in sheer distaste, which 
 action Andy took for mere coyness, 
 
 Jack was in a dilemma — for Andy was just the very last man he 
 would have chosen as a husband for his daughter ; but what could he 
 do ? — he was taken at his word, and even at the worst he was determined 
 that some one should marry the girl out of hand, and show Casey the 
 " disgrace should not be put on him ;" but anxious to have another 
 chance, he stammered something about the fairness of " letting the girl 
 choose," and that u some one else might wish to spake ;" but the end 
 of all was, that no one rose to rival Andy, and Father Phil bore witness 
 to the satisfaction he had that day in finding so much uprightness and 
 fidelity in " the boy," — that he had raised his character much in his 
 estimation by his conduct that day — and if he was a little giddy betimes, 
 there was nothing like a wife to steady him ; and if he was rather poor, 
 sure Jack Dwyer could mend that. 
 
 " Then come up here," says Jack ; and Andy left his place at the very 
 end of the board, and marched up to the head, amidst clapping of hands 
 and thumping of the tabb, and laughing and shouting. 
 
 " Silence! " cried Father Phil, " this is no laughing matther, but a 
 serious engagement — and John Dwyer, I tell you — and you, Andy 
 Rooney, that girl must not be married against her own free will ; but it 
 she has no objection, well and good." 
 
 " My will is her pleasure, I know," said Jack, resolutely. 
 To the surprise of every one, Matty said, " Oh, I'll take the boy, with 
 all my heart !" 
 
 Handy Andy threw his arms round her neck, and gave her a most 
 vigorous salute which came smacking off, and thereupon arose a hilarious 
 shout which made the old rafters of the barn ring again. 
 
 " There's the lase for you," said Jack, handing the parchment to 
 Andy, who was now installed in the place of honour beside the bride 
 elect, at the head of the table, and the punch circulated rapidly in filling 
 to the double toast of health, happiness, and prosperity, to " the happy 
 pair;" and after some few more circuits of the enlivening liquor had 
 been performed, the women retired to the dwelling-house, whose sanded 
 parlour was put in immediate readiness for the celebration of the nup- 
 tial knot between Matty and the adventurous Andy. 
 
 In half an hour the ceremony was performed, and the rites and 
 blessings of the church dispensed between two people, who, an hour 
 before, had never looked on each other with thoughts of matrimony. 
 
 Under such circumstances, it was wonderful with what lightness of 
 spirit Matty went through the honours consequent on a peasant bridal 
 in Ireland : — these, it is needless to detail ; our limits would not permit ; 
 but suffice it to say, that a rattling country dance was led off by Andy 
 and Matty in the barn, intermediate jigs were indulged in by the 
 " picked dancers" of the parish, while the country dancers were resting 
 and making love (if making love can be called rest) in the corners, and 
 that the pipers and punch-makers had quite enough to do until the night 
 was far spent, and it was considered time for the bride and bridegroom 
 to be escorted by a chosen party of friends to the little cottage which 
 was to be their future home. The pipers stood at the threshold of Jack 
 
 r2 
 
244 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 Dwyer, and his daughter departed from under the " roof-tree" to the 
 tune of " Joy be with you ;" and then the lilters heading the body-guard 
 of the bride, plied drone and chanter right merrily until she had entered 
 her new home, thanked her old friends, (who did all the established 
 civilities, and cracked all the usual jokes attendant on the occasion,) and 
 Andy bolted the door of the snug cottage of which he had so suddenly 
 become master, and placed a seat for the bride beside the fire, requesting 
 " Miss Dwyer" to sit down — for Andy could not bring himself to call 
 her " Matty" yet, and found himself in an awkward position in being 
 "lord and master" of a girl he considered so far above him a few hours 
 before : Matty sat quiet and looked at the fire. 
 
 " It's very quare, isn't it?" says Andy with a grin, looking at her 
 tenderly, and twiddling his thumbs. 
 
 " What's quare?" inquired Matty, very drily. 
 
 " The estate," responded Andy. 
 
 " What estate ?" asked Matty. 
 
 " Your estate and my estate," said Andy. 
 
 *' Sure you don't call the three-cornered field my father gave us, an 
 estate, you fool?" answered Matty. 
 
 " Oh no," said Andy. " I mane the blessed and holy estate of matri- 
 mony the priest put us in possession of ;" and Andy drew a stool near 
 the heiress, on the strength of the hit he thought he had made. 
 
 " Sit at the other side of the fire," said Matty, very coldly. 
 
 " Yes, Miss," responded Andy very respectfully ; and in shoving his 
 seat backwards, the legs of the stool caught in the earthen floor, and 
 Andy tumbled heels over head. 
 
 Matty laughed, while Andy was picking himself up with increased 
 confusion at his mishap ; for even amidst rustics, there is nothing more 
 humiliating than a lover placing himself in a ridiculous position at the 
 moment he is doing his best to make himself agreeable. 
 
 " It is well your coat's not new," said Matty, with a contemptuous 
 look at Andy's weather-beaten vestment. 
 
 " I hope I'll soon have a betther," said Andy, a little piqued, with 
 all his reverence for the heiress, at this allusion to his poverty — " But 
 sure, it wasn't the coat you married, but the man that's in it ; and 
 sure I'll take off my clothes as soon as you plase, Matty, my dear — Miss 
 Dwyer, I mane — I beg your pardon." 
 
 " You had better wait till you get better," answered Matty, very 
 drily — " You know the old saying, ' Don't throw out your dirty 
 wather until you get in fresh.' " 
 
 " Ah darlin', dont be cruel to me," said Andy in a supplicating tone — 
 " I know I'm not desarvin' of you, but sure I did not make so bowld as 
 to make up to you, until I seen that nobody else would have you." 
 
 " Nobody else have me !" exclaimed Matty, as her eyes flashed with 
 anger. 
 
 " I beg your pardon, Miss," said poor Andy, who in the extremity of 
 his own humility had committed such an offence against Matty's pride. 
 " I only meant that — " 
 
 " Say no more about it," said Matty, who recovered her equanimity 
 — " Didn't my father give you the lase of the field and house ?" 
 
 "Yis.Miss." 
 
HANDY ANDY 245 
 
 *' You had better let me keep it, then ; — 'twill be safer with me than 
 you." 
 
 " Sartainly," said Andy — who drew the lease from his pocket and 
 handed it to her, and as he was near her, he attempted a little familiarity, 
 which Matty repelled very unequivocally. 
 
 " Arrah, is it jokes you are crackin' V said Andy with a grin, ad- 
 vancing to renew his fondling. 
 
 " I tell you what it is," said Matty, jumping up, " I'll crack your 
 head if you don't behave yourself!" and she seized the stool on which 
 she had been sitting, and brandished it in a very Amazonian fashion. 
 
 " Oh wirra ! wirra !" said Andy in amaze — " aren't you my wife V 
 
 " Your wife !" retorted Matty, with a very devil in her eye — u Your 
 wife, indeed, you great omadhawn ; why then, had you the brass to 
 think I'd put up with you?" 
 
 " Arrah, then, why did you marry me ?" said Andy, in a pitiful argu- 
 mentative whine. 
 
 " Why did I marry you ?" retorted Matty — " Didn't I know betther 
 than to refuse you, when my father said the word when the Divil was 
 busy with him ? — Why did I marry you ? — it's a pity I didn't refuse, and 
 be murthered that night, may be, as soon as the people's backs was 
 turned. — Oh it's little you know of owld Jack Dwyer, or you wouldn't 
 ask' me that; but though I'm afraid of him, I'm not afraid of you — 
 and stand off, I tell you !" 
 
 " Oh blessed Vargin ! " cried Andy, — " and what will be the end 
 of it?" 
 
 There was a tapping at the door as he spoke. 
 
 " You'll soon see what will be the end of it," said Matty, as sho 
 walked across the cabin and opened to the knock. 
 
 James Casey entered, and clasped Matty in his arms ; and half a dozen 
 athletic fellows, and one old and debauched looking man followed, and 
 the door was immediately closed after their entry. 
 
 Andy stood in amazement while Casey and Matty caressed each other 
 and the old man said in a voice tremulous from intoxication, " A very 
 pretty filly, by jingo !" 
 
 "I lost no time the minute I got your message, Matty," said Casey, 
 " and here's the Father ready to join us." 
 
 "Aye, aye," cackled the old reprobate — "hammer and tongs! — ■< 
 strike while the iron's hot — I'm the boy for a short job" — and he pulled 
 a greasy book from his pocket as he spoke. 
 
 This was a degraded clergyman, known in Ireland under the title of 
 " couple beggar," who is ready to perform irregular marriages on such 
 urgent occasions as the present. — And Matty had continued to inform 
 James Casey of the strange turn affairs had taken at home, and recom- 
 mended him to adopt the present course, and so defeat the violent 
 measure of her father by one still more so. 
 
 A scene of uproar now ensued, for Andy did not take matters quietly, 
 but made a pretty considerable row, which was speedily quelled, how- 
 ever, by Casey's body guard, who tied Andy neck and heels, and in 
 that helpless state he witnessed the marriage ceremony performed by 
 the "couple beggar," between Casey and the girl he looked upon as his 
 own, five minutes before. 
 
246 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 In vain did lie raise his voice against the proceeding ; — the " couple 
 heggar" smothered his objections in ribald jests. 
 
 " You can't take her from me, I tell you," cried Andy. 
 
 " No — but we can take you from her," said the " couple beggar ;" and 
 at the words, Casey's friends dragged Andy from the cottage, bidding a 
 rollicking adieu to their triumphant companion, who bolted the door 
 after them, and became possessor of the wife and property poor Andy 
 thought he had secured. 
 
 To guard against an immediate alarm being given, Andy was warned 
 on pain of death to be silent, as his captors bore him along, and he took 
 them to be too much men of their word to doubt they would keep their 
 promise. They bore him along a lonely bye-lane for some time, and 
 on arriving at the stump of an old tree, they bound him securely to it, 
 and left him to pass bis wedding night in the tight embraces of hemp. 
 
HANDY ANDY. 24? 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 The news of Andy's wedding, so strange in itself, and being cele- 
 brated before so many, spread over the country like wildfire, and made 
 the talk of half the barony for the next day, and the question, " Arrah, 
 did you hear of the ivondherful wedding ?" was asked in high road and 
 bye-road, and scarcely a boreen whose hedges had not borne witness to 
 this startling matrimonial intelligence. The story, like all other stories, 
 of course got twisted into various strange shapes, and fanciful exagger- 
 ations became grafted on the original stem, sufficiently grotesque in 
 itself; and one of the versions set forth how old Jack Dwyer, the more 
 to vex Casey, had given his daughter the greatest fortune that had been 
 ever heard of in the county. 
 
 Now one of the open-eared people, who had caught hold of the story 
 by this end, happened to meet Andy's mother, and with a congratulatory 
 grin, began with " The top o' the mornin' to you, Mrs. Rooney, and 
 sure I wish you joy." 
 
 " Och hone, and for why, dear ?" answered Mrs. Rooney, " sure it's 
 nothin' but throuble and care I have, poor and in want, like me." 
 
 " But sure you'll never be in want more now." 
 
 " Arrah, who told you so, agra ?" 
 
 " Sure the boy will take care of you now, wont he ?" 
 
 " What boy ?" 
 
 "Andy, sure!" 
 
 " Andy !" replied his mother in amazement. " Andy, indeed ! — out 
 o' place, and without a bawbee to bless himself with 1 — stayin' out all 
 night, the blackguard ! " 
 
 " By this and that, I don't think you know a word about it," cried 
 the friend, whose turn it was for wonder now. 
 
 "Don't I, indeed?" says Mrs. Rooney, huffed at having her word 
 doubted, as she thought. " I tell you, he never was at home last night, 
 and may be it's yourself was helping him, Micky Lavery, to keep his bad 
 coorses — the slingein' dirty blackguard that he is." 
 
 Micky Lavery set up a shout of laughter, which increased the ire of 
 Mrs. Rooney, who would have passed on in dignified silence, but that 
 Micky held her fast, and when he recovered breath enough to speak, he 
 proceeded to tell her about Andy's marriage, but in such a disjointed 
 way, that it was some time before Mrs. Rooney could comprehend him — 
 for his interjectional laughter at the capital joke it was, that she should 
 be the last to know it, and that he should have the luck to tell it, some- 
 times broke the thread of his story — and then his collateral observations 
 so disfigured the tale, that its incomprehensibility became very much 
 
248 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 increased, till at last Mrs. Rooney was driven to push him by direct 
 questions. 
 
 " For the tendher mercy, Micky Lavery, make me sinsible, and don't 
 disthract me — is the boy marri'd?" 
 
 " Yis, I tell you." 
 
 " To Jack Dwyer's daughter ?" 
 
 " Yis." 
 
 " And gev him a fort'n' ?" 
 
 " Gev him half his property, I tell you, and he'll have all when the 
 owld man's dead." 
 
 " Oh, more power to you, Andy !" cried his mother in delight ; *' it's 
 you that is the boy, and the best child that ever was ! Half his property, 
 you tell me, Misther Lavery," added she, getting distant and polite the 
 moment she found herself mother to a rich man, and curtailing her 
 familiarity with a poor one like Lavery. 
 
 "Yis, ma'am," said Lavery, touching his hat, "and the whole of it 
 when the owld man dies." 
 
 " Then, indeed, I wish him a happy relase !" said Mrs. Rooney, 
 piously, — " not that I owe the man spite — but sure he'd be no loss — and 
 it's a good wish to any one, sure, to wish them in heaven. Good mornin', 
 Misther Lavery," — said Mrs. Rooney with a patronizing smile, and 
 ' going the road with a dignified air.' 
 
 Mick Lavery looked after her with mingled wonder and indignation. 
 " Bad luck to you, you owld sthrap !" he muttered between his teeth. — 
 " How consaited you are, all of a sudden — by Jakers, I'm sorry I towld 
 you — cock you up, indeed — put a beggar on horseback to be sure — 
 humph ! — the divil cut the tongue out o' me, if ever I give any one 
 good news again — I've a mind to turn back and tell Tim Doolin his 
 horse is in the pound." 
 
 Mrs. Rooney continued her dignified pace as long as she was within 
 sight of Lavery, but the moment an angle of the road screened her 
 from his observation, off she set, running as hard as she could, to em- 
 brace her darling-Andy, and realize, with her own eyes and ears, all the 
 good news she had heard. She puffed out by the way many set phrases 
 about the goodness of Providence, and arranged, at the same time, 
 sundry fine speeches to make to the bride ; so that the old lady's piety 
 and flattery ran a strange couple together along with herself; while 
 mixed up with her prayers and her blarney, were certain speculation? 
 of how long Jack Dwyer could possibly live, and how much he wouh 
 have to leave. 
 
 It was in this frame of mind she reached the hill which commanded 
 a view of the three-cornered field and the snug cottage ; and down she 
 rushed to embrace her darling Andy, and his gentle bride. Puffing and 
 blowing like a porpoise, bang she went into the cottage, and Matty 
 being the first person she met, she flung herself upon her, and covered 
 her with embraces and blessings. 
 
 Matty, being taken by surprise, was some time before she could shake 
 off the old beldame's hateful caresses, but at last, getting free and tucking 
 up her hair, which her imaginary mother-in-law had clawed about her 
 ears, she exclaimed in no very gentle tones — 
 

 ■ ■ // . ' ' 
 
 -■■■■' 
 
HANDY ANDY. 249 
 
 "Arrah, good woman, who axed for your company — who are you at all?" 
 
 " Your mother-in-law, jewel !" cried the widow Rooney, making 
 another open-armed rush at her beloved daughter-in-law, who received 
 the widow's protruding mouth on her clenched fist, instead of her lips ; 
 and the old woman's nose coming in for a share of Matty's knuckles, a 
 ruby stream spurted forth, while all the colours of the rainbow danced 
 before Mrs. Rooney's eyes as she reeled backwards on the floor. 
 
 "Take that, you owld faggot!" cried Matty, as she shook Mrs. 
 Rooney's tributary claret from the knuckles which had so scientifically 
 tapped it, and wiped her hand in her apron. 
 
 The old woman roared " millia' muidier" on the floor, and snuffled 
 out a deprecatory question, if that was the proper way to be received 
 in her son's house." 
 
 " Your son's house, indeed !" cried Matty. — " Get out o' the place, 
 you stack o' rags." 
 
 " Oh Andy ! Andy !" cried the mother, gathering herself up. 
 
 " Oh — that's it, is it !" cried Matty ; " so it's Andy you want ?" 
 
 " To be sure : why wouldn't 1 want'him, you hussy 1 — My boy ! my 
 darlin' ! my beauty !" 
 
 "Well, go look' for him!" cried Matty, giving her a shove towards 
 the door. 
 
 " Well, now, do you think I'll be turned out of my son's house so 
 quietly as that, you unnatural baggage ?" cried Mrs. Rooney, facing 
 round fiercely. Upon which, a bitter altercation ensued between the 
 women ; in the course of which the widow soon learned that Andy was 
 not the possessor of Matty's charms : whereupon the old woman, no 
 longer having the fear of damaging her daughter-in-law's beauty before 
 her eyes, tackled to for a fight in right earnest ; in the course of which 
 some reprisals were made by the widow, in revenge for her broken nose ; 
 but Matty's youth and activity, joined to her Amazonian spirit, turned 
 the tide in her favour, though, had not the old lady been blown by her 
 long run, the victory would not have been 30 easy, for she was a tough 
 customer, and left Matty certain marks of her favour that did not rub 
 out in a hurry, while she took away as a keepsake, a handful of Matty's 
 hair, by which she had held on, till a finishing kick from the gentle bride 
 finally ejected Mrs. Rooney from the house. 
 
 Off she reeled, bleeding and roaring, and while on her approach she 
 had been blessing Heaven, and inventing sweet speeches for Matty, on 
 her retreat she was cursing fate, and heaping all sorts of hard names on 
 the Amazon she came to flatter. 
 
 How fared it in the mean time with Andy ? He, poor devil ! had 
 passed a cold night, tied up to the old tree, and as the morning dawned, 
 every object appeared to him through the dim light in a distorted form ; 
 the gaping hollow of the old trunk to which he was bound, seemed 
 like a huge mouth, opening to swallow him, while the old knots looked 
 like eyes, and the gnarled branches like claws, staring at, and ready to 
 tear him in pieces. 
 
 A raven, perched above him on a lonely branch, croaked dismally, 
 till Andy fancied he could hear words of reproach in the sounds, while 
 a little torn-tit chattered and twittered on a neighbouring bough, as if 
 
250 HANDY ANDY 
 
 he enjoyed and approved of all the severe things the raven uttered. 
 The little torn- tit was the worse of the two, just as the solemn reproof 
 of the wise can be better borne than the impertinent remark of some 
 chattering fool, To these imaginary evils were added the real presence 
 of some enormous water-rats, which issued from an adjacent pool, and 
 began to eat Andy's hat and shoes, which had fallen off in his struggle 
 with his captors ; and all Andy's warning ejaculations could not make 
 the vermin abstain from his shoes and his hat, which, to judge from 
 their eager eating, must have been very high-flavoured. While Andy 
 looked on at the demolition, and began to dread that they might transfer 
 their favours from his attire to himself, the welcome sound of the 
 approaching tramp of horses fell upon his ear, and in a few minutes two 
 horsemen stood before him — they were Father Phil and Squire Egan. 
 
 Great was the surprise of the Father, to see the fellow he had mar- 
 ried the night before, and whom he supposed to be in the enjoyment of 
 his honeymoon, tied up to a tree, and looking more dead than alive ; 
 and his indignation knew no bounds when he heard that a " couple-beg- 
 gar" had dared to celebrate the marriage ceremony, which fact came out in 
 the course of the explanation Andy made of the desperate misadventure 
 which had befallen him ; but all other grievances gave way in the eyes 
 of Father Phil, to the " couple-beggar." 
 
 " A ' couple-beggar !' — the audacious vagabones !" he cried, while he 
 md the Squire were engaged in loosing Andy's bonds. "A 'couple- 
 beggar' in my parish ! — How fast they have tied him up, Squire !" he 
 added, as he endeavoured to undo a knot. " A ' couple-beggar' indeed ! 
 — I'll undo that marriage ! — have you a knife about you, Squire ? — the 
 blessed and holy tie of matrimony — it's a black knot, bad luck to it, 
 and must be cut — take your leg out o' that now — and wait till I lay my 
 hands on them — a ' couple-beggar' indeed!" 
 
 "A desperate outrage this whole affair has been !" said the Squire. 
 
 " But a ' couple-beggar,' Squire." 
 
 " His house broken into — " 
 
 " But a ' couple-beggar' — " 
 
 " His wife taken from him !" — 
 
 " But a ' couple-beggar,' — " 
 
 " The laws violated — " 
 
 " But my dues, Squire, — think o' that ! — what would become o' them, 
 if ' couple-beggars' is allowed to show their audacious faces in the parish. 
 — Oh wait till next Sunday, that's all — I'll have them up before the alther, 
 and I'll make them beg God's pardon, and my pardon, and the congre- 
 gation's pardon, the audacious pair!"* 
 
 * A man and woman who had been united by a ' couple-beggar' were called up one 
 Sunday by the priest in the face of the congregation, and summoned, as Father Phil 
 threatens above, to beg God's pardon, and the priest's pardon, and the congrega- 
 tion's pardon; but the woman stoutly refused the last condition: I'll beg God's par- 
 don and your Reverence's pardon," she said, " but I won't beg the congregation's 
 pardon." "You won't?" said the priest. "I won't," says she. " Oh you con- 
 thrairy baggage," cried his Iteverence, " take her home out o' that," said he to her 
 husband, who had humbled himself — " take her home, and leather her well — for she 
 wants it; and if you don't leather her, you'll be sorry — for if you don't make her 
 afraid of you, she'll masther you, too — take her home and leather her." — Fact. 
 
HANDY ANDY. 251 
 
 " It's ar assault on Andy," said the Squire. 
 
 " It's a robbery on me," said Father Phil. 
 
 " Could you identify the men ? " said the Squire. 
 
 " Do you know the ' couple-beggar' ? " said the priest. 
 
 " Did James Casey lay his hands on you?" said the Squire; "for he's 
 a good man to have a warrant against." 
 
 " Oh, Squire, Squire ! " ejaculated Father Phil ; "talking of laying 
 hands on him is it you are ? — didn't that blackguard ' couple-beggar' lay 
 his dirty hands on a woman that my bran new benediction was upon ! 
 Sure they'd do anything after that ! " 
 
 By this time Andy was free, and having received the Squire's 
 directions to follow him to Merryvale, Father Phil and the worthy 
 Squire were once more in their saddles, and proceeded quietly to the 
 same place ; the Squire silently considering the audacity of the coup-de- 
 main which robbed Andy of his wife, and his Reverence puffing out his 
 rosy cheeks, and muttering sundry angry sentences, the only intelligible 
 words of which were "couple-beggar." 
 
252 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 The reader has, no doubt, anticipated that the presence of Father Phil 
 in the company of the Squire at this immediate time, was on account of 
 the communication made by Andy about the post-office affair. Father 
 Phil had determined to set the Squire free from the stratagetic coil in 
 which Larry Hogan had ensnared him, and lost no time in waiting upon 
 him ; and it was on his visit to Merryvale he met its hospitable owner, 
 and anxious no time should be lost, he told the Squire there was a 
 matter of some private importance he wished to communicate, and 
 suggested a quiet ride together, and it was this led to their traversing 
 the lonely little lane, in which they discovered Andy, whose name was 
 so principal in the revelations of that day. 
 
 To the Squire, those revelations were of the dearest importance ; 
 for they relieved his mind from a weight which had been oppressing it 
 for some time, and set his heart at rest. Egan, it must be remarked, 
 was an odd mixture of courage and cowardice : undaunted by personal 
 danger, but strangely timorous where moral courage was required. A 
 remarkable shyness, too, made him hesitate constantly in the utterance 
 of a word which might explain away any difficulty in which he chanced 
 to find himself: and this helped to keep his tongue tied in the matter 
 where Larry Hogan had continued to make himself a bugbear. He 
 had a horror too of being thought capable of doing a dishonourable thing, 
 and the shame he felt at having peeped into a letter was so stinging, 
 that the idea of asking any one's advice in the dilemma in which he 
 was placed made him recoil from the thought of such aid. Now, 
 Father Phil had relieved him from the difficulties his own weakness 
 imposed ; the subject had been forced upon him ; and once forced to 
 speak, he made a full acknowledgment of all that had taken place ; and 
 when he found Andy had not borne witness against him, and that Larry 
 Hogan only inferred his participation in the transaction, he saw on 
 Father Phil's showing, that he was not really in Larry Hogan's power, for 
 though he admitted he had given Larry a trifle of money from time to 
 time, when Larry asked for it, under the influence of certain inuendoes, 
 yet that was no proof against him ; and Father Phil's advice was to get 
 Andy out of the way as soon as possible, and then to set Larry quietly 
 at defiance — that is to say, in Father Phil's own words, " to keep never 
 minding him." 
 
 Now Andy not being encumbered with a wife (as fate had so ordained 
 it) made the matter easier, and the Squire and the Father, as they rode 
 towards Merryvale together to dinner, agreed to pack off Andy with- 
 
HANDY ANDY. 253 
 
 out delay, and thus place him beyond Hogan's power ; and as Dick 
 Dawson was going to London with Murphy, to push the petition against 
 Scatterbrain's return, it was looked upon as a lucky chance, and Andy 
 was at once named to bear them company. 
 
 " But you must not let Hogan know that Andy is sent away under 
 your patronage, Squire," said the father, " for that would be presumptive 
 evidence you had an interest in his absence — and that Hogan is the 
 very blackguard would see it fast enough, for he s a knowing rascal." 
 
 " He's the deepest scoundrel I ever met," said the Squire. 
 
 " As knowing as a jailor, sir," said Father Phil ; " a jailor, did I say 
 — by dad, he bates any jailor I ever heard of — for that fellow is so cute, 
 sir, he could keep Newgate with a hook and eye." 
 
 " By-the-bye, there's one thing I forgot to tell you, respecting those 
 letters I threw into the fire ; for remember, father, I only peeped into 
 one and destroyed the .others — but one of the letters, I must tell you, 
 was directed to yourself. 
 
 " Faith, then, I forgive you that, Squire," said Father Phil; "for I 
 hate letters ; but if you have any scruple of conscience on the subject, 
 write me one yourself, and that will do as well." 
 
 The Squire could not help thinking the father's mode of settling the 
 difficulty worthy of Handy Andy himself; but he did not tell the 
 father so. 
 
 They had now reached the house where the good-humoured priest was 
 heartily welcomed, and where Doctor Growling, Dick Dawson, and 
 Murphy, were also guests at dinner. Great was the delight of the party 
 at the history they heard, when the cloth was drawn, of Andy's wedding, 
 so much in keeping with his former life and adventures, and Father Phil 
 had another opportunity of venting his rage against the " couple-beggar." 
 
 '• That was but a slip-knot you tied, father," said the doctor. 
 
 " Aye, aye ! joke away, doctor." 
 
 " Do you think, Father Phil," said Murphy, " that that marriage was 
 made in Heaven, where we are told marriages are made ?" 
 
 " I don't suppose it was, Mr. Murphy ; for if it had been, it would 
 have held upon earth." 
 
 " Very well answered, father," said the Squire. 
 
 " I don't know what other people think about matches being made in 
 .heaven," said Growling, " but I have my suspicions they are sometimes 
 made in another place." 
 
 " O, fie, doctor !" said Mrs. Egan. 
 
 " The doctor, ma'am, is an old bachelor," said Father Phil, " or he 
 wouldn't say so." 
 
 " Thank you, Father Phil, for so polite a speech." 
 
 The doctor took his pencil from his pocket, and began to write on a 
 small bit of paper, which the priest observing, asked him what he was 
 about, " or is it writing a prescription you are," said he, " for compound- 
 ing better marriages than I can?" 
 
 " Something very naughty, I dare say the doctor is doing," said Fanny 
 Dawson. 
 
 " Judge for yourself, lady fair," said the doctor, handing Fanny the 
 slip of paper 
 
254 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 Fanny looked at it for a moment, and smiled, but declared it was 
 very wicked indeed. 
 
 " Then read it for the company, and condemn me out of your own 
 pretty mouth, Miss Dawson," said the doctor. 
 
 " It is too wicked." 
 
 " If it is ever so wicked," said Father Phil, " the wickedness will be 
 neutralized by being read by an angel." 
 
 " Well done, St. Omer's !" cried Murphy. 
 
 " Really, father !" said Fanny, blushing, " you are desperately gal- 
 lant to-day, and just to shame you, and show how little of an angel 
 I arn, I will read the doctor's epigram ; — 
 
 " ' Though matches are all made in Heaven, they say, 
 Yet Hymen, who mischief oft hatches, 
 Sometimes deals with the house t'other side of the way, 
 And there they make Lucifer matches.' " 
 
 " Oh doctor, I am afraid you are a woman-hater," said Mrs. Egan. 
 M Come away, Fanny, I am sure they want to get rid of us." 
 
 " Yes," said Fanny, rising and joining her sister, who was leaving 
 the room, " and now, after abusing poor Hymen, gentlemen, we leave 
 you to your favourite worship of Bacchus." 
 
 The departure of the ladies changed the conversation, and after the 
 gentlemen had resumed their seats, the doctor asked Dick Dawson how 
 soon he intended going to London. 
 
 " I start immediately," said Dick. " Don't forget to give me that 
 letter of introduction to your friend in Dublin, whom I long to know." 
 
 " "Who is he ?" asked the squire. 
 
 " One Tom Loftus — or, as his friends call him, ' Piping Tom,' from 
 his vocal powers ; or as some nickname him, Organ Loftus, from his 
 imitation of that instrument, which is an excessively comical piece of 
 caricature." 
 
 " Oh ! I know him well," said Father Phil. 
 
 " How did you manage to become acquainted with him?" inquired 
 the doctor, " for I did not think he lay much in your way." 
 
 " Oh, it was he became acquainted with me," said Father Phil, 
 — " and this was the way of it : he was down on a visit betimes in 
 the parish I was in before this, and his behaviour was so wild that I was 
 obliged to make an allusion in the chapel to his indiscretions, and 
 threaten to make his conduct a subject of severe public censure, if he 
 did not mind his manners a little better. Well, my dear, to my surprise, 
 who should call on me on the Monday morning after, but Misther Tom, 
 all smiles and graces, and protesting he was sorry he fell under my dis- 
 pleasure, and hoping I would never have cause to find fault with him 
 again. — Sure I thought he was repenting of his misdeeds, and I said I 
 was glad to hear such good words from him. — ' A'then, father,' says 
 he, ' I hear you have got a great curiosity from Dublin — a shower-bath, 
 I hear.' So I said I had, and indeed to be candid, I was as proud as a 
 peacock of the same bath, which tickled my fancy when I was once in 
 town, and so I bought it. — ' Would you show it to me,' says he. ' To 
 be sure,' says I, and off I went like a fool and put the wather on the top, 
 and showed him how, when a string was pulled, down it came — and he 
 
HANDY ANDY 255 
 
 pretended not clearly to understand the thing, and at last he said, ' Sure 
 it's not into that sentry box, you get V says he. ' Oh yis,' says I, get- 
 ting into it, quite innocent ; — when, my dear, he slaps the door and 
 fastens it on me, and pulls the string, and souses me with the water, and 
 I with my best suit of black on me. I roared and shouted inside while 
 Misther Tom Loftus was screechin' laughing outside, and dancing round 
 the room with delight. At last, when he could speak, he said, 'Now, 
 Father, we're even,' says he, ' for the abuse you gave me yesterday,' 
 and off he ran. ; ' 
 
 " That's just like him," said Old Growling, chuckling ; " he's a queer 
 divil. I remember on one occasion a poor dandy puppy, who was in the 
 same office with him — for Tom is in the Ordnance department, you 
 must know — this puppy, sir, wanted to go to the Ashbourne races, and 
 cut a figure in the eyes of a rich grocer's daughter he was sweet upon." 
 
 " Being sweet upon a grocer's daughter," said Murphy, " is like 
 bringing coals to Newcastle." 
 
 " Faith ! it was coals to Newcastle, with a vengeance, in the present 
 case, for the girl would have nothing to say to him, and Tom had great 
 delight, whenever he could annoy this poor fool in his love-making plots. 
 So, when he came to Tom to ask for the loan of his horse, Tom said he 
 should have him if he could make the smallest use of him — ' but 1 don't 
 think you can,' said Tom. 
 
 " ' Leave that to me,' said the youth. 
 
 " ' I don't think you could make hix go,' said Tom. 
 
 " ' I'll buy a new pair of spurs,' said the puppy. 
 
 " ' Let them be handsome ones,' said Tom. 
 
 " ' I was looking at a very handsome pair at Lamprey's, yesterday, 
 said the young gentleman. 
 
 " ' Then you can buy them on your way to my stables,' said Tom ; 
 and sure enough, sir, the youth lail out his money on a very costly pair 
 of persuaders, and then proceeded homewards with Tom. 
 
 " ' Now with all your spurs,' said Tom, ' I don't think you'll be able 
 to make him go.' 
 
 " ' Is he so very vicious, then V inquired the youth, who began to 
 think of his neck. 
 
 " ' On the contrary,' said Tom, ' he's perfectly quiet, but won't go 
 for you, I'll bet a pound.' 
 
 " ' Done !' said the youth. 
 
 " ' Well, try him ! ' said Tom, as he threw open the stable door. 
 
 " ( He's lazy, I see,' said the youth ; ' for he's lying down.' 
 
 " ' Faith, he is,' said Tom ; ' and hasn't got up these two days ! ' 
 
 " ' Get up, you brute!' said the innocent youth, giving a smart cut of 
 his whip on the horse's flank — but the horse did not budge. — ' Why, 
 he's dead ! ' says he. 
 
 " ' Yes,' says Tom, ' since Monday last. So I don't think you can 
 make him go, and you've lost your bet.' " 
 
 " That was hardly a fair joke," said the Squire. 
 
 " Tom never stops to think of that," returned the doctor ; " he's the 
 oddest fellow I ever knew. The last time I was in Dublin, I called on 
 Tom, and found him one bitther cold and stormy morning, standing at an 
 
256 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 open window, nearly quite undressed. On asking him what he was 
 about, he said, he was ' getting up a bass voice, that Mrs. Somebody, who 
 gave good dinners and bad concerts, was disappointed of her bass singer, 
 and I think,' said Tom, ' I'll be hoarse enough in the evening to take 
 double B flat. Systems are the fashion now,' said he, ' there is the 
 Logierian system and other systems, and mine is the Coldairian system, 
 and the best in the world for getting up a bass voice.' " 
 
 " That was very original, certainly," said the Squire. 
 
 " But did you ever hear of his adventure with the Duke of Welling- 
 ton ?" said the doctor. 
 
 " The Duke !" they all exclaimed. 
 
 " Yes — that is, when he was only Sir Arthur Wellesley. — Well, I'll 
 tell you." 
 
 " Stop," said the Squire, " a fresh story requires a fresh bottle. Let 
 me ring for some claret." 
 
I ' . . : \,>/<:-9''i 
 
HANDY ANDY. 257 
 
 CHAPTER XXXII. 
 
 The servant who brought in the claret announced at the same time 
 the arrival of a fresh guest, in the person of " Captain Moriarty," who 
 was welcomed by most of the party by the name of Randal. The Squire 
 regretted he was too late for dinner, inquiring, at the same time, if he 
 would like to have something to eat at the side-table; but Randal 
 declined the offer, assuring the Squire he had got some refreshment 
 during the day while he had been out shooting ; but as the sport led 
 him near Merryvale, and " he had a great thirst upon him," he did not 
 know a better house in the county wherein to have " that same" satisfied. 
 
 " Then you're just in time for some cool claret," said the Squire ; 
 " so sit down beside the Doctor, for he must have the first glass, and 
 broach the bottle, before he broaches the story he's going to tell us, — 
 that's only fair." 
 
 The Doctor filled his glass, and tasted. " What a nice ' chateau ' 
 that ' Margaux ' must be," said he, as he laid down his glass. " I should 
 like to be a tenant at will there, at a small rent." 
 
 " And no taxes," said Dick. 
 
 " Except my duty to the claret," replied the Doctor. 
 
 " My favourite chateau 
 ' Is that of Margaux. " 
 
 " By the bye, talking of chateau, there's the big brewer over at the town, 
 who is anxious to affect gentility, and he heard some one use the word 
 chapeau, and having found out it was the French for hat, he deter- 
 mined to show off on the earliest possible occasion, and selected a public- 
 meeting of some sort to display his accomplishment. Taking some 
 cause of objection to the proceedings as an excuse for leaving the 
 meeting, he said, ' Gentlemen, the fact is, I can't agree with you, so I 
 may as well take my chateau under my arm at once, and walk." 
 
 " Is not that an invention of your own, Doctor?" said the Squire. 
 
 " I heard it for fact," said Growling. 
 
 " And 'tis true," added Murphy, " for I was present when he said it. 
 And at an earlier part of the proceedings, he suggested that the parish 
 clerk should read the resolutions, because he had ' a good laudable 
 voice.' " 
 
 " A parish clerk ought to have," said the Doctor, — " eh, Father Phil ? 
 — ' Laudamus /'" 
 
 " What's that you say about d— n us?" said Dick. " 'Twould be 
 fitter for you to tell us that story you promised about the Duke and 
 Tom Loftus." 
 
258 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 " True for you, Misther Dick," said Father Phil. 
 
 " The story, Doctor," said the Squire. 
 
 " Oh, don't make such bones about it," said Growling; " 'tis but a 
 trifle, after all ; only it shows you what a queer and reckless rascal 
 Tom is." 
 
 " I told you he was called ' Organ' Loftus by his friends, in conse- 
 quence of the imitation he makes of that instrument ; and it certainly 
 is worth hearing and seeing, for your eyes have as much to do with the 
 affair as your ears. Tom plants himself on a high office stool, before 
 one of those lofty desks, with long rows of drawers down each side, and 
 a hole between to put your legs under. Well, sir, Tom pulls out the 
 top drawers, like the stops of an organ, and the lower ones by way of 
 pedals; and then .he begins thrashing the desk like the finger-board of 
 an organ, with his hands, while his feet kick away at the lower drawers 
 as if he were the greatest pedal performer out of Germany, and he 
 emits a rapid succession of grunts and squeaks, producing a ludicrous 
 reminiscence of the instrument ; and I defy any one to hear him without 
 laughing. Several sows and an indefinite number of sucking pigs could not 
 make a greater noise, and Tom himself declares he studied the instrument 
 in a pigsty, which he maintains gave the first notion of an organ. Well, 
 sir, the youths of the office assist in ' doing the service,' as they call it, 
 that is, making an imitation of the chanting and so forth in St. Patrick's 
 cathedral." 
 
 " Oh, the haythens !" said Father Phil. 
 
 " One does Spray, and another Weyman, and another Sir John Ste- 
 venson, and so on ; and they go on responsing and singing ' Amen' till 
 the Ordnance Office rings again." 
 
 " Have they nothing better to do?" asked the Squire. 
 
 " Very little but reading the papers," said the Doctor. " Well, Tom, 
 you must know, sir, was transferred some time ago, by the interest of 
 many influential friends, to the London department ; and there the fame 
 of his musical powers had gone before him from some of the English 
 clerks in Ireland, who had been advanced to the higher posts in Dublin, 
 and kept up correspondence with their old friends in London ; and it was 
 not long until Tom was requested to go through an anthem on the 
 great office-desk. Tom was only too glad to be asked, and he kept the 
 whole office in a roar for an hour, with all the varieties of the instru- 
 ment, from the diapason to the flute-stop ; and the divil a more business 
 was done in the office that day, and Tom before long made the sober 
 English fellows as great idlers as the chaps in Dublin. Well, it was 
 not long until a sudden flush of business came upon the department, in 
 consequence of the urgent preparations making for supplies to Spain, 
 at the time the Duke was going there to take the command of the army, 
 and organ-playing was set aside for some days ; but the fellows, after a 
 week's abstinence, began to yearn for it, and Tom was requested to ' do 
 the service.' Tom, nothing loth, threw aside his official papers, set up 
 a big ledger before him, and commenced his legerdemain, as he called 
 it, pulled out his stops, and began to work away like a weaver, while 
 
 every now and then he d d the bellows-blower for not giving him 
 
 wind enough, whereupon the choristers would kick the bellows-blower 
 
■"7" >' / '//' 
 
 //r I '^/// 
 
 S 
 
 t, „,!,,, . k Lover, Alfline Chambers Caosrnostca: Row L8*a. 
 
HANDY ANDY. 259 
 
 to accelerate his flatulency. Well, sir, they were in the middle of the 
 service, and all the blackguards making the responses in due season, 
 when, just as Tom was quivering under a portentous grunt, which might 
 have shamed the principal diapason of Harlaem, and the subs were 
 drawing out a resplendent A — a — a — men, the door opened, and in 
 walked a smart-looking gentleman, with rather a large nose and quick 
 eye, which glanced round the office, where a sudden endeavour was 
 made by everybody to get back to his place. The smart gentleman 
 seemed rather surprised to see a little fat man blowing ata desk instead 
 of the fire, and long Tom kicking, grunting, and squeeling like mad. 
 The bellows-blower was so taken by surprise he couldn't stir, and Tom, 
 having his back to the door, did not see what had taken place, and went 
 on as if nothing had happened, till the smart gentleman went up to him, 
 and tapping on Tom's desk with a little riding whip, he said, • I'm sorry 
 to disturb you, sir, but I wish to know what you're about.' 
 
 " • We're doing the service, sir,' said Tom, no ways abashed at the 
 sight of the stranger, for he did not know it was Sir Arthur Wellesley 
 was talking to him. 
 
 " ' Not the public service, sir,' said Sir Arthur. 
 
 " ' Yes, sir,' said Tom, ' as by law established in the second year of 
 the reign of King Edward the Sixth,' and he favoured the future hero 
 of Waterloo with another touch of the organ. 
 
 " ' Who is the head of this office V inquired Sir Arthur. 
 
 " Tom, with a very gracious bow, replied, ' I am principal organist, 
 sir, and allow me to introduce you to the principal bellows-blower,' and 
 he pointed to the poor little man, who let the bellows fall from his hand 
 as Sir Arthur fixed his eyes on him. 
 
 " Tom did not perceive till now that all the clerks were taken with a 
 sudden fit of industry, and were writing away for the bare life ; and he 
 cast a look of surprise round the office while Sir Arthur was looking at 
 the bellows-blower. 
 
 " One of the clerks made a wry face at Tom, which showed him all 
 was not right. 
 
 " * Is this the way His Majesty's service generally goes on here V said 
 Sir Arthur, sharply. 
 
 " No one answered ; but Tom saw, by the long faces of the clerks 
 and the short question of the visitor, that he was somebody. 
 
 " ' Some transports are waiting for ordnance stores, and I am 
 referred to this office,' said Sir Arthur ; • can any one give me a satis- 
 factory answer V 
 
 " The senior clerk present (for the head of the office was absent) 
 came forward, and said, ' I believe, sir,' — 
 
 " ' You believe, but you don't know,' said Sir Arthur ; ■ so I must 
 wait for stores while you are playing tom-foolery here. I'll report this.' 
 Then producing a little tablet and a pencil, he turned to Tom, and said, 
 ' Favour me with your name, sir.' 
 
 " ' I give you my honour, sir,' said Tom — 
 
 " ' I'd rather you'd give me the stores, sir. — I'll trouble you for your 
 
 name. 
 
 Upon my honour, sir,' said Tom again. 
 
 s2 
 
260 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 " ' You seem to have a great deal of that article on your hands, sir, 
 said Sir Arthur. ' You're an Irishman, I suppose.' 
 
 " ' Yes, sir,' said Tom. 
 
 " ' I thought so. Your name.' 
 
 " ' Loftus, sir.' 
 
 " ' Ely family?' 
 
 '">o, sir.' 
 
 " ' Glad of it.' He put up his tablet, after writing the name. 
 
 " • May I beg the favour to know, sir,' said Tom, • to whom I have 
 the honour of addressing myself?' 
 
 " ' Sir Arthur Wellesley, sir.' 
 
 " < Oh, J s !' cried Tom. ' I'm done !' 
 
 " Sir Arthur could not help laughing at the extraordinary change in 
 Tom's countenance ; and Tom, taking advantage of this relaxation in his 
 iron manner, said, in a most penitent tone, 
 
 " ' Oh, Sir Arthur Wellesley, only forgive me this time, and 'pon my 
 sowl,' says he, with the richest brogue, ' I'll play a Te Deum for the 
 first licking you give the French.' 
 
 " Sir Arthur smiled, and left the office." 
 
 " Did he report, as he threatened ?" asked the Squire. 
 
 " Faith, he did." 
 
 " And Tom ?" inquired Dick. 
 
 " Was sent back to Ireland, sir." 
 
 " That was hard, after the Duke smiled at him," said Murphy. 
 
 " Ah, he did not let him suffer in pocket ; he was transferred at as 
 good a salary to a less important department ; but you know the Duke 
 has been celebrated all his life for never overlooking a breach of duty." 
 
 " And who can blame him?" said Moriarty. 
 
 " One great advantage of the practice has been," said the Squire, 
 " that no man has been better served. I remember hearing a striking 
 instance of what, perhaps, might be called severe justice, which he 
 exercised on a young and distinguished officer of artillery in Spain ; and 
 though one cannot help pitying the case of the gallant young fellow 
 who was the sacrifice, yet the question of strict duty, to the very word, 
 was set at rest for ever under the Duke's command, and it saved much 
 after trouble, by making every officer satisfied, however fiery his 
 courage or tender his sense of being suspected of the white feather, that 
 implicit obedience was the course he must pursue. The case was this : 
 — the army was going into action" — 
 
 " What action was it?" inquired Father Phil, with that remarkable 
 alacrity which men of peace evince in hearing the fullest particulars 
 about war, perhaps because it is forbidden to their cloth ; one of the 
 many instances of things acquiring a fictitious value by being inter- 
 dicted, — just as Father Phil himself might have been a protestant only 
 for the penal laws. 
 
 " I don't know what action it was," said the Squire, " nor the officer's 
 name, for I don't set up for a military chronicler ; but it was, as I have 
 been telling you, going into action that the Duke posted an officer, with 
 his six guns, at a certain point, telling him to remain there until he had 
 orders from him. Away went the rest of the army, and the officer was 
 
HANDY ANDY. 261 
 
 left doing nothing at all, which he didn't like ; for he was one of those high- 
 blooded gentlemen who are never so happy as when they are making other 
 people miserable, and he was longing for the head of a French column to 
 be hammering away at. In half an hour or so he heard the distant 
 sound of action, and it approached nearer and nearer, until he heard it 
 close beside him ; and he wondered rather that he was not invited to take 
 a share in it, when, pat to his thought, up came an aide-de-camp at full 
 speed, telling him that General somebody ordered him to bring up his 
 guns. The officer asked, did not the order come from Lord Wellington ? 
 The aide-de-camp said no, but from the General, whoever he was. 
 The officer explained that he was placed there by Lord Wellington, 
 under command not to move, unless by an order from himself. The 
 aide-de-camp stated that ihe General's entire brigade was being driven 
 in, and must be annihilated without the aid of the guns, and asked, 
 ' would he let a whole brigade be slaughtered V in a tone which wounded 
 the young soldier's pride, savouring, as he thought it did, of an 
 imputation on his courage. He immediately ordered his guns to move, 
 and joined battle with the General ; but while he was away, an 
 aide-de-camp from Lord Wellington rode up to where the guns had 
 been posted, and, of cource, no gun was to be had for the service which 
 Lord Wellington required. Well, the French were repulsed, as it hap- 
 pened ; but the want of those six guns seriously marred a preconcerted 
 movement of the Duke's, and the officer in command of them was 
 immediately brought to a court-martial, and would have lost his com- 
 mission but for the universal interest made in his favour by the general 
 officers, in consideration of his former meritorious conduct and distin- 
 guished gallantry, and under the peculiar circumstances of the case. 
 They did not break him, but he was suspended, and Lord Wellington 
 sent him home to England. Almost every general officer m the army 
 endeavoured to get this sentence revoked, lamenting the fate of a gallant 
 fellow being sent away for a slight error in judgment, while the army 
 was in full action ; but Lord Wellington was inexorable, saying he 
 must make an example to secure himself in the perfect obedience of 
 officers to their orders ; and it had the effect." 
 
 " Well, that's what I call hard," said Dick. 
 
 " My dear Dick," said the Squire, " war is altogether a hard thing, 
 and a man has no business to be a General who isn't as hard as his own 
 round shot." 
 
 " And what became of the dear young man 1" said Father Phil, who 
 seemed much touched by the readiness with which the dear young man 
 set off to mow down the French. 
 
 " I can tell you," said Moriarty, " for I served with him afterwards 
 in the Peninsula. He was let back after a year or so, and became so 
 thorough a disciplinarian, that he swore, when once he was at his post, 
 ' They might kill his father before his face, and he wouldn't budge until 
 he had orders.' " 
 
 " A most christian resolution," said the Doctor. 
 
 " Well, I can tell you," said Moriarty, " of a Frenchman, who made 
 a greater breach of discipline, and it was treated more leniently. 
 I heard the story from the man's own lips, and if I could only give you 
 
262 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 his voice and gesture and manner, it would amuse you. What fellows 
 those Frenchmen are, to be sure, for telling a story ! they make a sbrug 
 or a wink have twenty different meanings, and their claws are mos elo- 
 quent, — one might say they talk on their fingers, — and their broken 
 English, I think, helps them." 
 
 " Then give the story, Randal, in his manner," said Dick. " I have 
 heard you imitate a Frenchman capitally." 
 
 ** Well, here goes," said Moriarty ; " but let me wet my whistle with 
 a glass of claret before I begin, — a French story should have French 
 wine." Randal tossed off one glass, and filled a second by way of 
 reserve, and then began the French officer's story. 
 
 " You see, sare, it vos ven in Espagne de bivouac vos vairy ard 
 indeet 'pon us, vor ve coot naut get into de town at all, nevair, becos 
 you dam English keep all de town to yoursefs — vor ve fall back at dat 
 time becos we get not support — no corps de reserve, you perceive — so 
 ve mek retrograde movement — not retreat — no, no — but retrograde 
 movement. Veil — von night I was wit my picket guart, and it was 
 raining like de devil, and de vind vos vinding up de vally, so cold as 
 noting at all, and de dark vos vot you coot not see — no — not your nose 
 bevore your face. Well, I hear de tramp of horse, and I look into de 
 dark — for ve vere very moche on de qui vive, because ve expec de 
 Ingelish to attaque de next day — but I see noting ; but de tramp of 
 horse come closer and closer, and at last I ask, ' Who is dere ? ' and de 
 tramp of de horse stop. I run forward, and den I see Ingelish offisair 
 of cavallerie. I address him, and tell him he is in our lines, but I do 
 not vant to mek him prisonair — for you must know dat he vos prisonair, 
 if I like, ven he vos vithin our line. He is very polite — he say, ' Bien 
 oblige — bon enfant ; and ve tek off our hat to each ozer. ' I aff lost my 
 roat,' he say ; and I say, ' Yais' — bote I vill put him into his roat ; and 
 so I ask for a moment, pardon, and go back to my caporal, and tell him 
 to be on de qui vive till I come back. De Ingilish offisair and me talk 
 very plaisant vile ve go togezer down de leetel roat, and ven ve come to 
 de turn, T say, ' Bon soir, Monsieur le Capitaine — dat is your vay.' — 
 He den tank me, vera moche like gentilman, and vish he coot mek me 
 some return for my generosite, as he please to say — and I say, ' Bah ! 
 Ingilish gentilman vood do de same to French offisair who lose his vay.' 
 — ' Den come here,' he say, ' bon enfant, can you leave your post for 
 'aff an hour ?' — ' Leave my post?' I say. — ' Yais,' said he, ' I know your 
 army has not moche provision lately, and maybe you are ongrie V — 
 ' Ma foi, yais,' said I ; ' I aff naut slips to my eyes, nor meat to my 
 stomach, for more dan fife days.' — ' Veil, bon enfant,' he say, ' come vis 
 me, and I vill gif you goot supper, goot vine, and goot velcome.' — ' Coot 
 Heave my post?' I say. — He say, 'Bah! — Caporal take care till you come 
 back.' By gar, I coot naut resist — he vos so vairy moche gentilman, 
 and / vos so ongrie — I go vis him — not fife bunder yarts — ah ! bon 
 Dieu — how nice ! In de corner of a leetel ruin chappel, dere is nice 
 bit of fire, and hang on a string before it, de half of a kid — oh ciel ! 
 de smell of de ros-bif was so nice — I rub my hands to de fire — I 
 sniff de cuisine — I see in anozer corner a couple bottels of wine — 
 sacre ! it vos all watair in my mouts ! Ve sit down to suppair — 
 
HANDY ANDY. 203 
 
 I nevair did ate so moche in my life. Ve did finish de bones, and vosh 
 down all mid ver good wine — excellent ! Ve drink de toast — a la gloire 
 — and ve talk of de campaign. — Ve drink a la Patrie, and den / tink of 
 
 la belle France and ma douce amie and he fissel ' Got safe de king.' 
 
 Ve den drink a I'amitie, and shek hands over dat fire in goot frain- 
 
 ship, — dem two Lands dat might cross de swords in de morning. Yais, 
 sair, dat was fine — 'twas galliard — 'twas le vrai chivalrie; two soldier 
 ennemi to share de same kid, drink de same wine, and talk like two 
 friends. Veil, I got den so sleepy, dat my eyes go blink, blink, and my 
 goot friend says to me, ' Sleep, old fellow ; 1 know you aff got hard fare 
 of late, and you are tired ; sleep, all is quiet for to-night, and I will call 
 you before dawn.' Sair, I vos so tired, I forgot my duty, and fall down 
 fast asleep. Veil, sair, in de night de pickets of de two armie get so 
 close, and mix up, dat some shot gets fired, and in von moment all in 
 confusion. I am shake by the shoulder — I wake like from dream — 
 I heard sharp fusillade — my friend cry, ' Fly to your post, it is attack!' 
 — We exchange one sihek of de hand, and I run off to my post. Oh 
 del! — it is driven in — I see dem fly. Oh, mon desespoir a ce moment- 
 la ! I am ruin — deshonore — I rush to de front — I rally mes braves — ve 
 
 stand ! — ve advance ! ! — ve regain de post ! ! ! 1 am safe ! ! ! ! De 
 
 fusillade cease — it is only an affair of outposts. I tink I am safe — 
 I tink I am very fine fellow — but Monsieur V Aide-Major send for me 
 and he speak — 
 
 " ' Vere vos you last night, sair ? ' 
 
 " ' I mount guard by de mill ' 
 
 " ' Are you sure ?' 
 
 " ' Oui, monsieur.' 
 
 " ' Vere vos you when your post vos attack ?' 
 
 " I saw it vos no use to deny any longer, so I confess to him every- 
 ting. ' Sair,' said he, ' you rally your men very good, or you should be 
 shot. Young man, remember,' said he — I will never forget his vorts — 
 ' young man, vine is goot — slip is goot — goat is goot, — but honners is 
 betters V" 
 
 " A capital story, Randal," cried Dick ; "but how much of it did 
 you invent ? " 
 
 " 'Pon my soul, it is as near the original as possible." 
 
 " Besides, that is not a fair way of using a story," said the Doctor. 
 " You should take a story as you get it, and not play the dissector upon 
 it, mangling its poor body to discover the bit of embellishment upon it ; 
 and as long as a raconteur maintains vraisemblance, I contend you are 
 bound to receive the whole as true." 
 
 " A most author-like creed, Doctor," said Dick ; " you are a story- 
 teller yourself, and enter upon the defence of your craft with great 
 spirit." 
 
 " And justice, too," said the Squire ; " the Doctor is quite right." 
 
 " Don't suppose I can't see the little touches of the artist," said the 
 Doctor ; " but so long as they are in keeping with the picture I enjoy 
 them ; for instance, my friend Randal's touch of the Englishman 
 'fissling God safe de King' is very happy — quite in character." 
 
 "Well, good or bad, the story in substance is true," said Randal, 
 
264 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 " and puts the Englishman in a fine point of view — a generous fellow, 
 sharing his supper with his enemy, whose sword may be through his 
 body in the next morning's ' affair.' " 
 
 " But the Frenchman was generous to him first," remarked the 
 Squire. 
 
 " Certainly — I admit it,'' said Randal. " In short, they were both 
 fine fellows." 
 
 " Oh, sir," said Father Phil, "the French are not deficient in a 
 chivalrous spirit. I heard once a very pretty little bit of anecdote 
 about the way they behaved to one of our regiments on a retreat in 
 Spain." 
 
 " Your regiments ! " said Moriarty, who was rather fond of hitting hard 
 at a priest when he could ; " a regiment of friars, is it ? " 
 
 " No, Captain, but of soldiers ; and its going through a river they 
 were, and the French, taking advantage of their helpless condition, were 
 peppering away at them hard and fast." 
 
 " Very generous, indeed !" said Moriarty, laughing. 
 
 " Let me finish my story, Captain, before you quiz it. I say, they 
 were peppering them sorely while they were crossing the river, until 
 some women, the followers of the camp, ran down, poor creatures, to 
 the shore, and the stream was so deep in the middle, they could scarcely 
 ford it ; so some dragoons, who were galloping as hard as they could 
 out of the fire, pulled up on seeing the condition of the womenkind, and 
 each horseman took up a woman behind him, though it diminished his 
 own power of speeding from the danger. The moment the French saw 
 this act of manly courtesy they ceased firing, and gave a cheer for the 
 dragoons ; and as long as the women were within gun-shot, not a trigger 
 was pulled in the French line, but volleys of cheers, instead of ball car- 
 tridge, were sent after the brigade, till all the women were over. Now 
 wasn't that generous V 
 
 " 'Twas a handsome thing ! " was the universal remark. 
 
 " And faith, I can tell you, Captain Moriarty, the army took advan- 
 tage of it ; for there was a great struggle to have the pleasure of the 
 ladies' company over the river." 
 
 " I dare say, Father Phil," said the Squire, laughing — 
 
 " Throth, Squire," said the pad?-e, " fond of the girls as the soldiers 
 have the reputation of being, they never liked them better than that 
 same day." 
 
 " Yes, yes," said Moriarty, a little piqued, for he rather affected the 
 '' dare-devil," " I see you mean to insinuate that we soldiers fear 
 fire." 
 
 " I did not say, fear, Captain ; but they'd like to get out of it, for all 
 that, and small blame to them — aren't they flesh and blood, like our- 
 selves ? " 
 
 " Not a bit like you," said Moriarty. " You sleek and smooth gen- 
 tlemen, who live in luxurious peace, know little of a soldier's dangers 
 or feelings." 
 
 " Captain, we all have our dangers to go through ; and maybe a priest 
 has as many as a soldier ; and we only show a difference of taste, after 
 all, in the selection." 
 
HANDY ANDY. 205 
 
 " Well, Father Blake, all I know is, that a true soldier fears nothing !" 
 said Moriarty, with energy. 
 
 " Maybe so/' answered Father Phil, quietly. 
 
 " It is quite clear, however," said Murphy, " that war, with all its 
 horrors, can call out occasionally the finer feelings of our natures ; but 
 it is only such redeeming traits as those we have heard which can 
 reconcile us to it. I remember having heard an incident of war, myself, 
 which affected me much," said Murphy, who caught the infection of 
 military anecdote which circled the table ; and indeed there is no more 
 catching theme can be started among men, for it may be remarked that 
 whenever it is broached it flows on until it is rather more than time to 
 go to the ladies. 
 
 " It was in the earlier portion of the memorable day of Waterloo," 
 said Murphy, " that a young officer of the Guards received a wound 
 which brought him to the ground. His companions rushed on to the 
 occupation of some point their desperate valour was called on to carry, 
 and he was left, utterly unable to rise, for the wound was in his foot. 
 He lay for some hours with the thunder of that terrible day ringing 
 around him, and many a rush of horse and foot had passed close beside 
 him. Towards the close of the day he saw one of the Black Brunswick 
 dragoons approaching, who drew rein as his eye caught the young 
 Guardsman, pale and almost fainting, on the ground. He alighted, and 
 finding the officer was not mortally wounded, he assisted him to rise, 
 lifted him into his saddle, and helped to support him there while he 
 walked beside him to the English rear. The Brunswicker was an old 
 man ; his brow and moustache were grey ; despair was in his sunken 
 eye, and from time to time he looked up with an expression of the deepest 
 yearning into the face of the young soldier, who saw big tears rolling 
 down the veteran's cheek while he gazed upon him. 
 
 " ' You seem in bitter sorrow, my kind friend,' said the stripling. 
 
 " ' No wonder,' answered the old man, with a hollow groan. ' I and 
 my three boys were in the same regiment — they were alive the morning 
 of Ligny — I am childless to-day. But I have revenged them !' he said 
 fiercely, and as he spoke he held out his sword, which was literally red 
 with blood. ' But, oh ! that will not bring me back my boys !' he ex- 
 claimed, relapsing into his sorrow. ' My three gallant boys !' — and 
 again he wept bitterly, till clearing his eyes from the tears, and looking 
 up in the young soldier's handsome face, he said tenderly, ' You are like 
 my youngest one, and I could not let you lie on the field.' " 
 
 Even the rollicking Murphy's eyes were moist as he recited this 
 anecdote ; and as for Father Phil, he was quite melted, ejaculating in an 
 under tone, " Oh, my poor fellow ! my poor fellow !" 
 
 " So there," said Murphy, "is an example of a man, with revenge in 
 his heart, and his right arm tired with slaughter, suddenly melted into 
 gentleness by a resemblance to his child." 
 
 " 'Tis very touching, but very sad," said the Squire. 
 
 " My dear sir," said the Doctor, with his peculiar dryness, "sadness 
 is the principal fruit which warfare must ever produce. You may talk 
 of glory as long as you like, but you cannot have your laurel without 
 your cypress and though you may select certain bits of sentiment out of 
 
266 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 a mass of horrors, if you allow me, I will give you one little story' 
 which sha'n't keep you long, and will serve as a commentary upon war 
 and glory in general.'' 
 
 " At the peace of 1803, I happened to be travelling through a town 
 in France, where a certain Count I knew resided. I waited upon him, 
 and he received me most cordially, and invited me to dinner. I made 
 the excuse that I was only en route, and supplied with but travelling 
 costume, and therefore not fit to present myself amongst the guests of 
 such a house as his. He assured me I should only meet his own family, 
 and pledged himself for Madame la Comtesse being willing to waive the 
 ceremony of a grande toilette. I went to the hotel at the appointed 
 hour, and as I passed through the hall I caught a glance at the dining- 
 room, and saw a very long table laid. On arriving at the reception- 
 room, I taxed the Count with having broken faith with me, and was 
 about making my excuses to the Countess, when she assured me the 
 Count had dealt honestly by me, for that I was the only guest to join 
 the family party. Well, we sat down to dinner, three-and-twenty per- 
 sons ; myself, the Count and Countess, and their twenty children, and a 
 more lovely family I never saw ; he a man in the vigour of life, she a 
 still attractive woman, and these their offspring lining the table, where 
 the happy eyes of father and mother glanced with pride and affection 
 from one side to the other on these future staffs of their old age. Well, 
 the peace of Amiens was of short duration, and I saw no more of the 
 Count till Napoleon's abdication. Then I visited France again, and saw 
 my old friend. But it was a sad sight, sir, in that same house, where 
 little more than ten years before I had seen the bloom and beauty of 
 twenty children, to sit down with three — all he had left him. His sons 
 had fallen in battle — his daughters had died widowed, leaving but 
 orphans. And thus it was all over France. While the public voice 
 shouted ' Glory,' wailing was in her homes. Her temple of victory was 
 filled with trophies, but her hearths were made desolate." 
 
 " Still, sir, a true soldier fears nothing," repeated Moriarty. 
 
 " Baithershin," said Father Phil. " Faith, I have been in places of 
 danger you'd be glad to get out of, I can tell you, as bowld as you are, 
 Captain." 
 
 " You'll pardon me for doubting you, Father Blake," said Moriarty, 
 rather huffed. 
 
 " Faith, then, you wouldn't like to be where I was before I came here ; 
 that is, in a mud cabin, where I was giving the last rites to six people 
 dying in the typhus fever." 
 
 " Typhus !" exclaimed Moriarty, growing pale, and instinctively 
 withdrawing his chair as far as he could from the padre beside whom 
 he sat. 
 
 " Ay, typhus, sir ; most inveterate typhus." 
 
 " Gracious Heaven!" said Moriarty, rising, "how can you do such 
 a dreadful thing as run the risk of bearing infection into society ?" 
 
 " I thought soldiers were not afraid of anything," said Father Phil, 
 laughing at him ; and the rest of the party joined in the merriment. 
 
 " Fairly hit, Moriarty," said Dick. 
 
 " Nonsense !" said Moriarty, " when I spoke of danger, I meant such 
 
HANDY ANDY. 267 
 
 open danger as — in short, not such insidious, lurking abomination, as 
 infection ; for I contend that — " 
 
 " Say no more, Randal," said Growling, "you're done ! — Father Phil 
 has floored you." 
 
 " I deny it," said Moriarty, warmly ; but the more he denied it the 
 more every one laughed at him. 
 
 " You're more frightened than hurt, Moriarty," said the Squire ; 
 " for the best of the joke is, Father Phil wasn't in contact with typhus 
 at all, but was riding with me, — and 'tis but a joke." 
 
 Here they all roared at Moriarty, who was excessively angry, but felt 
 himself in such a ridiculous position that he could not quarrel with 
 anybody. 
 
 " Pardon me, my dear Captain," said the Father. " I only wanted 
 to show you that a poor priest has to run the risk of his life just as much 
 as the boldest soldier of them all. But don't you think now, Squire, we 
 ought to join the ladies ? I'm sure the tay will be tired waiting for us." 
 
268 HANDY ANDY 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII. 
 
 Mrs. Egan was engaged with some needle-work, and Fanny turning 
 over the leaves of a music-book, and occasionally humming some bars 
 of her favourite songs, as the gentlemen came into the drawing-room. 
 Fanny rose from the piano-forte as they entered. 
 
 " Oh, Miss Dawson/' exclaimed Moriarty, " why tantalize us so much 
 as to let us see you seated in that place where you can render so much 
 delight, only to leave it as we enter ?" 
 
 Fanny turned off the Captain's flourishing speech with a few lively 
 words and a smile, and took her seat at the tea-table to do the honours. 
 
 " The Captain," said Father Phil to the Doctor, " is equally great in 
 love or war." » 
 
 " And knows about as little of one as the other," said the Doctor ■ 
 " his attacks are too open." 
 
 " And therefore easily foiled," said Father Phil. " How that pretty 
 creature, with the turn of a word and a curl of her lip, upset him that 
 time! Oh, what a powerful thing a woman's smile is, Doctor! I often 
 congratulate myself that my calling puts all such mundane follies and 
 attractions out of my way, when I see and know what fools wise men 
 are sometimes made by silly girls. Oh, it is fearful, Doctor ; though, of 
 course, part of the mysterious dispensation of an allwise Providence." 
 
 " Is it that fools should have the mastery ?" inquired the Doctor, drily, 
 with a mischievous query in his eye as well. 
 
 " Tut, tut, tut, Doctor," replied Father Phil, impatiently ; " you 
 know well enough what I mean, and I won't allow you to engage me in 
 one of your ingenious battles of words. I speak of that wonderful 
 influence of the weaker sex over the stronger, and how the word of a 
 rosy lip outweighs sometimes the resolves of a furrowed brow ; and 
 how the — pooh ! pooh ! I'm making a fool of myself talking to you ; — 
 but to make a long story short, I would rather wrastle out a logical 
 dispute any day, or a tough argument of one of the Fathers, than refute 
 some absurdity which fell from a pretty mouth with a smile on it." 
 
 " Oh, I quite agree with you," said the Doctor, grinning, "that the 
 fathers are not half such dangerous customers as the daughters." 
 
 " Ah, go along with you, Doctor!" said Father Phil, with a good- 
 humoured laugh. " I see you are in one of your mischievous moods, 
 and so I'll have nothing more to say to you." 
 
 The Father turned away to join the Squire, while the Doctor took a 
 seat near Fanny Dawson, and enjoyed a quiet little bit of conversation 
 with her, while Moriarty was turning over the leaves of her album ; but 
 the brow of the Captain, who affected a taste in poetry, became knit, 
 
HANDY ANDY. 2G9 
 
 and his lip assumed a contemptuous curl as he perused some lines, and 
 asked Fanny whose was the composition. 
 
 " I forget," was Fanny's answer. 
 
 " I don't wonder," said Moriarty ; " the author is not worth remem- 
 bering, for they are very rough." 
 
 Fanny did not seem pleased with the criticism, and said, that when 
 sung to the measure of the air written down on the opposite page, they 
 were very flowing. 
 
 " But the principal phrase, the ' refrain,' I may say, is so vulgar," 
 added Moriarty, returning to the charge. " The gentleman says, 
 1 What would you do V and the lady answers, ' That's what I'd do.' 
 Do you call that poetry ?" 
 
 " I don't call that poetry," said Fanny, with some emphasis on the 
 word ; " but if you connect those two phrases with what is inter- 
 mediately written, and read all in the spirit of the entire of the verses, 
 I think there is poetry in them, — but if not poetry, certainly feeling ." 
 
 " Can you tolerate ' Thai's what Fd do?' — the pert answer of a 
 housemaid." 
 
 " A phrase in itself homely," answered Fanny, " may become ele- 
 vated by the use to which it is applied." 
 
 " Quite true, Miss Dawson," said the Doctor, joining in the discus- 
 sion ; " but what are these lines which excite Randal's ire ?" 
 
 " Here they are," said Moriarty. " I will read them, if you allow 
 me, and then judge between Miss Dawson and me. 
 
 ' What will you do, love, when I arn going, 
 
 With white sail flowing, 
 
 The seas beyond ? 
 What will you do, love, when ' 
 
 " Stop, thief! — stop, thief!" cried the Doctor. " Why you are robbing 
 the poet of his reputation as fast as you can. You don't attend to the 
 rhythm of those lines, — you don't give the ringing of the verse." 
 
 " That's just what I have said, in other words," said Fanny. "When 
 sung to the melody they are smooth." 
 
 "But a good reader, Miss Dawson," said the Doctor, " will read verse 
 with the proper accent, just as a musician would divide it into bars ; 
 but my friend Randal there, though he can tell a good story, and hit off 
 prose very well, has no more notion of rhythm or poetry than new beer 
 has of a holiday." 
 
 " And why, pray, has not new beer a notion of a holiday ?" 
 
 " Because, sir, it works of a Sunday." 
 
 " Your beer maybe new, Doctor, but your joke is not, — I have seen 
 it before, in some old form." 
 
 " Well, sir, if I found it in its old form, like a hare, and started it 
 fresh, it may do for folks to run after as well as anything else. But you 
 sha'n't escape your misdemeanour in mauling those verses as you have 
 done, by finding fault with my joke redivivus. You read those lines, 
 sir, like a bellman, without any attention to metre." 
 
 " To be sure," said Father Phil, who had been listening for some 
 time ; " they have a ring in them — " 
 
 " Like a pig's nose," said the Doctor. 
 
270 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 " Ah, be aisy," said Father Phil. " I say they have a ring in them 
 like an owld Latin canticle, — 
 
 • What will you do, love, when I am go-'mg, 
 
 With white sail flow -ing, 
 
 The says be-yond?' 
 
 That's it !" 
 
 " To be sure," said the Doctor. " I vote for the Father's reading 
 them out on the spot." 
 
 " Pray do, Mister Blake," said Fanny. 
 
 " Ah, Miss Dawson, what have I to do with reading love verses?" 
 
 " Take the book, sir," said Growling, " and show me you have some 
 faith in your own sayings, by obeying a lady directly." 
 
 " Pooh ! pooh !" said the priest. 
 
 " You won't refuse me ?" said Fanny, in a coaxing tone. 
 
 " My dear Miss Dawson," said the padre. 
 
 " Father Phil /" said Fanny, with one of her rosy smiles. 
 
 " Oh, wow ! wow ! wow !" ejaculated the priest in an amusing em- 
 barrassment, — " I see you will make me do whatever you like." So 
 Father Phil gave the rare example of a man acting up to his own theory, 
 and could not resist the demand that came from a pretty mouth. He 
 took the book, and read the lines with much feeling, but with an obser- 
 vance of rhythm so grotesque, that it must be given in his own 
 manner. 
 
 2TOat foill pott fro, %obt l 
 i. 
 
 " What will you do, love, when I amgo-ing, 
 With white sai\flow-hig, 
 
 The seas be-yond ? 
 What will you do, love, when waves di-vide us, 
 And friends may chide us, 
 
 For being fond?" 
 
 " Though waves di-vide us, and friends be chi-d'mg, 
 In faith a-6e-ding, 
 
 I'll still be true ; 
 A.nd I'll pray for thee on the stormy o-cean, 
 In deep de-w-tion ; — 
 
 That's what I'll do 1" 
 
 " What would you do, love, if distant ft-dings 
 Thy fond con-fi-dmgs 
 
 Should xmdex-mine ; 
 And I, a-ii-ding 'neath sultry skies, 
 
 Should think other eyes 
 
 Were as bright as thine t" 
 
 " Oh, name it not; though guilt and shame 
 Were on thy name, 
 
 I'd still be true; 
 But that heart of thine, should another share it, 
 I could not bear it ; — 
 
 What would I do V* 
 
HANDY ANDY. 271 
 
 in. 
 '' What would you do, love, when, home re-turn-'mg, 
 With hopes high burn-ing, 
 
 With wealth for you, — 
 If my bark, that bound-ed o'er foreign foam, 
 
 Should be lost near home ; — 
 
 Ah, what would you do V 
 
 " So thou wert spar-ed, I'd bless the mor-row, 
 In want and sor-row, 
 
 That left me you ; 
 And I'd welcome thee, from the wasting bil-lovr, 
 My heart thy pil-\o\v ! — 
 
 That's what I'd do!" 
 
 "Well done, padre!" said the Doctor, — " with good emphasis and 
 discretion." 
 
 " And now, my dear Miss Dawson," said Father Phil, " since I've 
 read the lines at your high bidding, will you sing them for me at my 
 humble asking ?" 
 
 " Very antithetically put, indeed," said Fanny ; " but you must 
 excuse me." 
 
 " You said there was a tune to it." 
 
 " Yes ; but I promised Captain Moriarty to sing him this," said 
 Fanny, going over to the pianoforte, and laying her hand on an open 
 music-book. 
 
 " Thanks, Miss Dawson," said Moriarty, following fast. 
 
 Now, it was not that Fanny Dawson liked the Captain that she was 
 going to sing the song ; but she thought he had been rather " mobbed" 
 by the doctor and padre about the reading of the verses, and it was 
 her good breeding which made her pay this little attention to the 
 worsted party. She poured forth her sweet voice in a simple melody to 
 the following words : — 
 
 Jbag not mg f^eart is cottf. 
 
 Say not my heart is cold, 
 
 Because of a silent tongue ; 
 The lute of faultless mould 
 
 In silence oft hath hung. 
 The fountain soonest spent 
 
 Doth babble down the steep ; 
 But the stream that ever went 
 
 Is silent, strong, and deep. 
 
 ii. 
 
 The charm of a secret life 
 
 Is given to choicest things : — 
 Of flowers, the fragrance rife 
 
 Is wafted on viewless wings ; 
 We see not the charmed air 
 
 Bearing some witching sound | 
 And ocean deep is where 
 
 The pearl of price is found. 
 
272 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 m. 
 
 " Where are the stars by day 1 
 
 They burn, though all unseen; 
 And love of purest ray 
 
 Is like the stars, I ween : 
 Unmark'd is the gentle light 
 
 When the sunshine of joy appears, 
 But ever, in sorrow's night, 
 
 'Twill glitter upon thy tears !" 
 
 " Well, Randal, does that poem satisfy your critical taste ? — of the 
 singing there can be but one opinion." 
 
 " Yes, I think it pretty," said Moriarty, " but there is one word in 
 the last verse I object to." 
 
 " Which is that ?" inquired Growling. 
 
 " Ween" said the other ; " ' the stars, I ween,' I object to." 
 
 " Don't you see the meaning of that ?" inquired the Doctor. " I think 
 it a very happy allusion." 
 
 " I don't see any allusion whatever," said the critic. 
 
 " Don't you see the poet alluded to the stars in the milky way, and 
 says, therefore, The stars I wean." 
 
 " Bah ! bah ! Doctor," exclaimed the critical captain ; " you are in 
 one of your quizzing moods to-night, and 'tis in vain to expect a 
 serious answer from you." He turned on his heel as he spoke, and 
 went away. 
 
 " Moriarty, you know, Miss Dawson, is a man who affects a horror 
 of puns, and therefore I always punish him with as many as I can," 
 said the Doctor, who was left by Moriarty's sudden pique to the enjoy- 
 ment of a pleasant chat with Fanny, and he was sorry when the hour 
 arrived which disturbed it by the breaking up of the party and the 
 departure of the guests. 
 
HANDY ANDY. 273 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV. 
 
 When the widow Rooney was forcibly ejected from the house of 
 Mrs. James Casey, and found that Andy was not the possessor of that 
 lady's charms, she posted off to Neck-or-Nothing Hall, to hear the full 
 and true account of the transaction from Andy himself. On arriving at 
 the old iron gate, and pulling the loud bell, the savage old janitor spoke 
 to her between the bars, and told her to " go out o' that." Mrs. Rooney 
 thought Fate was using her hard in decreeing she was to receive denial 
 at every door, and endeavoured to obtain a parley with the gate-keeper, 
 to which he seemed no way inclined. 
 " My name's Rooney, sir." 
 
 " There's plenty bad o' the name," was the civil rejoinder. 
 " And my son's in Squire O'Grady's sarvice, sir.'' 
 " Oh — you're the mother of the beauty we call Handy — eh ? " 
 " Yis, sir." 
 
 " Well, he left the sarvice yistherday." 
 " Is it lost the place ? " 
 ■« Yis." 
 
 " Oh dear ! — Ah, sir, let me up to the house and spake to his honor, 
 and maybe he'll take back the boy." 
 
 " He doesn't want any more servants at all — for he's dead." 
 " Ts it Squire O' Grady dead ? " 
 
 " Ay — did you never hear of a dead Squire before ?" 
 " What did he die of, sir ? " 
 
 " Find out," said the sulky brute, walking back into his den. 
 It was true — the renowned O'Grady was no more. The fever which 
 had set in from his " broiled bones," which he would have in spite of 
 anybody, was found difficult of abatement; and the impossibility of 
 keeping him quiet, and his fits of passion, and consequent fresh sup- 
 plies of " broiled bones," rendered the malady unmanageable ; and the 
 very day after Andy had left the house, the fever took a bad turn, and 
 in four-and-twenty hours the stormy O'Grady was at peace. 
 
 What a sudden change fell upon the house ! All the wedding para- 
 phernalia which had been brought down, lay neglected in the rooms 
 where it had been the object of the preceding day's admiration. The 
 deep, absorbing, silent grief of the wife — the more audible sorrow of the 
 girls — the subdued wildness of the reckless boys, as they trod silently past 
 the chamber where they no longer might dread reproof for their noise, — 
 all this was less touching than the effect the event had upon the old 
 •dowager mother. While the senses of others were stunned by the blow, 
 hers became awakened by the shock ; all her absurd aberration passed 
 
 x 
 
274 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 away, and she sat, in intellectual self-possession, by the side of her son's 
 death-bed, which she never left until he was laid in his coffin. He was 
 the first and the last of her sons. She had now none but grandchildren 
 to look upon — the intermediate generation had passed away, and tho gap 
 yawned fearfully before her. It restored her, for the time, perfectly to 
 her senses ; and she gave the necessary directions on the melancholy 
 occasion, and superintended all the sad ceremonials befitting the time, . 
 with a calm and dignified resignation, which impressed all around her 
 with wonder and respect. 
 
 Superadded to the dismay which the death of the head of a family 
 produces, was the terrible fear which existed that O'Grady's body would 
 be seized for debt — a barbarous practice, which, shame to say, is still 
 permitted. This fear made great precaution necessary, to prevent persons 
 approaching the house, and accounts for the extra gruffness of the gate 
 porter. The wild body-guard of the wild chief was on doubly active 
 duty ; and after four-and- twenty hours had passed over the reckless 
 boys, the interest they took in sharing and directing this watch and 
 ward seemed to outweigh all sorrowful consideration for the death of 
 their father. As for Gustavus, the consciousness of being now the 
 master of Neck-or-Nothing Hall was apparent in a boy not yet fifteen ; 
 and not only in himself, but in the grey-headed retainers about him, this 
 might be seen : there was a shade more of deference — the boy was 
 merged in " the young master." But we must leave the house of 
 mourning for the present, and follow the widow Rooney, who, as she 
 tramped her way homeward, was increasing in hideousness of ''visage 
 every hour. Her nose was twice its usual dimensions, and one eye was 
 perfectly useless in showing her the road. At last, however, as evening 
 was closing, she reached her cabin, and there was Andy, arrived before 
 her, and telling Oonah, his cousin, all his misadventures of the pre- 
 ceding day. 
 
 The history was stopped for a while by their mutual explanations and 
 condolences with Mrs. Rooney, on the " cruel way her poor face was 
 used." 
 
 " And who done it at all ? " said Oonah. 
 
 " Who, but that born divil, Matty Dwyer — and sure they towld me 
 you were married to her," said she to Andy. 
 
 " So T was — " said Andy, beginning the account of his misfortunes 
 afresh to his mother, who from time to time would break in with 
 indiscriminate maledictions on Andy, as well as his forsworn damsel ; 
 and when the account was ended, she poured out a torrent of abuse 
 upon her unfortunate forsaken son, which rivetted him to the floor in 
 utter amazement. 
 
 " I thought I'd get pity here, at all events," said poor Andy ; " but 
 instead o' that it's the worst word, and the hardest name in your jaw, 
 you have for me." 
 
 " And sarve you right, you dirty cur," said his mother. " I ran off 
 like a fool when I heerd of your good fortune, and see the condition 
 that baggage left me in — my teeth knocked in, and my eye knocked out, 
 and all for your foolery, because you couldn't keep what you got." 
 
 " Sure, mother, I tell you — " 
 
HANDY ANDY. 275 
 
 (i Howld your tongue, you omadhawn ! — And then I go to Squire 
 O'Grady's to look for you, and there I hear you lost that place, too." 
 
 " Faix, it's little loss," said Andy. 
 
 " That's all you know about it, you goose — you lose the place just 
 when the man's dead, and you'd have. had a shuit o' mournin'. Oh, you 
 are the most misfortunate divil, Andy Rooney, this day in Ireland — why 
 did I rear you at all ? " 
 
 " Squire O'Grady dead !" said Andy in surprise, and also with regret 
 for his late master. 
 
 " Yis — and you've lost the mournin' — augh !" 
 
 " Oh the poor Squire !" said Andy. 
 
 " The iligant new clothes ! " grumbled Mrs. Rooney. " And then 
 luck tumbles into your way, such as man never had ; without a place, or 
 a rap to bless yourself with, you get a rich man's daughter for your wife, 
 and you let her slip through your fingers." 
 
 " How could I help it?" said Andy. 
 
 " Augh ! — you bothered the job just the way you do every thing," 
 said his mother. 
 
 " Sure I was civil spoken to her." 
 
 "Augh!" said his mother. 
 
 " And took no liberty." 
 
 " You goose !" 
 
 " And called her Miss." 
 
 " Oh, indeed, you missed it altogether." 
 
 " And said I wasn't desarvin' of her." 
 
 " That was thrue — but you should not have towld her so. Make a 
 woman think you're betther than her, and she'll like you." 
 
 " And sure, when I endayvoured to make myself agreeable to her — " 
 
 " Endayvoured ! '" repeated the old woman contemptuously — 
 " Endayvoured, indeed ! — Why didn't you make yourself agreeable at 
 oncet, you poor dirty goose ? — no, but you went sneaking about it — 
 I know as well as if I was looking at you — you went sneaking and 
 snivelin' until the girl took a disgust to you ; for there's nothing a 
 woman despises so much as shilly-shallying." 
 
 " Sure, you won't hear my defmce," said Andy. 
 
 " Oh, indeed, you're betther at defmce than attack," said his 
 mother. 
 
 " Sure the first little civility I wanted to pay her, she took up the 
 three-legged stool to me." 
 
 " The divil mend you ! — And what civility did you offer her ? " 
 
 " I made a grab at her cap, and I thought she'd have brained me ! " 
 
 Oonah set up such a shout of laughter at Andy's notion of a civility 
 to a girl, that the conversation was stopped for some time, and her aunt 
 remonstrated with her at her want of common sense, or, as she said, 
 hadn't she " more decency than to laugh at the poor fool's nonsense ?" 
 
 " What could I do agen the three-legged stool?" said Andy. 
 
 " Where was your oivn legs, and your own arms, and your own eyes, 
 and your own tongue ? — eh ?" 
 
 " And sure I tell you it was all ready conthrived, and James Casey 
 was sent for, and came.'' 
 
 T 2 
 
276 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 " Yis," said the mother, " but not for a long time, you towld me 
 yourself; and what were you doing all that time ? — Sure, supposing you 
 wor only a new acquaintance, any man worth a day's mate would have 
 discoorsed her over in the time, and made her sinsible he was the best 
 of husbands." 
 
 " I tell you she wouldn't let me have her ear at all," said Andy. 
 
 " Nor her cap either," said Oonah, laughing. 
 
 " And then Jim Casey kem." 
 
 " And why did you let him in ? " 
 
 " It was she let him in, I tell you." 
 
 " And why did you let her ? He was on the wrong side of the door 
 — that's the outside ; and you on the right — that's the inside ; and it was 
 your house, and she was your wife, and you were her masther, and you 
 had the rights of the church, and the rights of the law, and all the rights 
 on your side ; barrin' right rayson — that you never had ; and sure with- 
 out that, what's the use of all the other rights in the world V 
 
 " Sure, hadn't he his friends, sthrong, outside V 
 
 " No matther, if the door wasn't opened to them, for then you 
 would have had a stronger friend than any o' them present among 
 them." 
 
 "Who?" inquired Andy. 
 
 " The hangman," answered his mother ; " for breaking doors is 
 hanging matther ; and I say the presence of the hangman's always 
 before people when they have such a job to do, and makes them think 
 twice sometimes, before they smash once ; and so you had only to keep 
 one woman's hands quiet." 
 
 " Faix, some of them would smash a door as soon as not," said 
 Andy. 
 
 " Well, then, you'd have the satisfaction of hanging them," said the 
 mother, " and that would be some consolation. — But even as it is, I'll 
 have law for it — I will — for the property is yours, any how, though the 
 girl is gone — and indeed a brazen baggage she is, and is mighty heavy 
 in the hand: — oh, my poor eye ! — it's like a coal of fire — but sure it was 
 worth the risk living with her, for the sake of the purty property. And 
 sure I was thinkin' what a pleasure it would be living with you, and 
 taachin' your wife housekeepin', and bringing up the young turkeys and 
 the childhre — but, och hone, you'll never do a bit o' good, you that got 
 sitch careful bringin' up, Andy Rooney ! Didn't I tache you manners, 
 you dirty hanginbone blackguard ? — Didn't I tache you your blessed 
 religion ? — may the divil sweep you ! — Did I ever prevent you from 
 sharing the lavings of the pratees with the pig ? and didn't you often 
 clane out the pot with him ? and you're no good afther all. I've turned 
 my honest penny by the pig, but I'll never make my money of you, 
 Andy Rooney ! " 
 
 There were some minutes' silence after this eloquent outbreak of 
 Andy's mother, which was broken at last by Andy uttering a long sigh 
 and an ejaculation. 
 
 " Och ! — it's a fine thing to be a gintleman," said Andy. 
 
 " Cock you up ! " said his mother. " Maybe it's a gintleman you 
 want to be ; — what puts that in your head, you omadhawn ?" 
 
HANDY ANDY. 277 
 
 " Why, because a gintleman has no hardships compared with one of 
 uz. Sure, if a gintleman was marri'd, his wife wouldn't be tuk off from 
 him the way mine was." 
 
 " Not so soon, maybe," said the mother, drily. 
 
 " And if a gintleman brakes a horse's heart, he's only a ' bowld 
 rider' while a poor sarvant is a ' careless blackguard,' for only taking a 
 sweat out of him. If a gintleman dhrinks till he can't see a hole in a 
 laddher, he's only 'fresh,' — but ' dhrunk ' is the word for a poor man. 
 And if a gintleman kicks up a row, he's a ' fine sperited fellow,' while 
 a poor man is a ' disordherly vagabone ' for the same ; and the Justice 
 axes the one to dinner, and sends th' other to jail. Oh, faix, the law 
 is a dainty lady ; she takes people by the hand who can afford to wear 
 gloves, but people with brown fists must keep their distance." 
 
 " I often remark," said his mother, " that fools spake mighty sinsible 
 betimes ; but their wisdom all goes with their gab. Why didn't you 
 take a betther grip of your luck when you had it ? You're wishing 
 you wor a gintleman, and yet when you had the best part of a gintle- 
 man (the property, I mane) put into your way, you let it slip through 
 your fingers ; and afther lettin' a fellow take a rich wife from you, and 
 turn you out of your own house, you sit down on a stool there, and 
 begin to wish, indeed ! — you sneaking fool — wish, indeed ! — Och ! if you 
 wish with one hand, and wash with th' other, which will be clane first 
 —eh ?" 
 
 " What could I do agen eight ?" asked Andy. 
 
 " Why did you let them in, I say again ?" said the mother, quickly. 
 
 " Sure the blame wasn't with me," said Andy, " but with — " 
 
 " Whisht, whisht, you goose !'' said his mother. " An coorse you'll 
 blame every one, and everything but yourself — ' The losing horse blames 
 the saddle." 
 
 " Well, maybe it's all for the best," said Andy, " after all." 
 
 " Augh, howld your tongue !" 
 
 " And if it wasn't to be, how could it be ?" 
 
 " Listen to him!" 
 
 " And Providence is over us all." 
 
 " Oh, yis !" said the mother. " When fools make mistakes they lay 
 the blame on Providence. How have you the impidence to talk o' 
 Providence in that manner ? — I'll tell you where the Providence was. — 
 Providence sent you to Jack Dwyer's, and kep Jim Casey away, and 
 put the anger into owld Jack's heart, and made the opening for you to 
 spake up, and gave you a wife — a wife with property! — Ah, there's 
 where the Providence was ! — and you were the masther of a snug 
 house — that was Providence ! And wouldn't myself have been the one 
 to be helping you in the farm— rearing the powlts, milkin' the cow, 
 makin' the iligant butther, with lavings of butthermilk for the pigs — 
 the sow thriving, and the cocks and hens cheering your heart with their 
 cacklin' — the hank o' yarn on the wheel, and a hank of ingins up the 
 chimbley — oh ! that's what the Providence would have been — that 
 would have been Providence indeed! — but never tell me that Providence 
 turned you out of the house ; that was your own goostherumfoodle." 
 
 " Can't he take the law o' them, aunt?" inquired Oonah. 
 
278 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 M To be sure he can — and shall, too," said the mother. " I'll be of? 
 to 'torney Murphy, to-morrow. — I'll pursue her for my eye, and Andy 
 for the property, and I'll put them all in Chancery, the villains ! " 
 
 ** It's Newgate they ought to be put in," said Andy. 
 
 " Tut, you fool, Chancery is worse than Newgate ; for people some- 
 times get out of Newgate, but they never get out of Chancery, I hear." 
 
 As Mrs. Rooney spoke, the latch of the door was raised, and a 
 miserably clad woman entered, closed the door immediately after, and 
 placed the bar against it. The action attracted the attention of all the 
 inmates of the house, for the doors of the peasantry are universally left 
 " on the latch," and never secured against intrusion until the family go 
 to bed. 
 
 " God save all here ! " said the woman, as she approached the fire. 
 
 " Oh, is that you, Ragged Nance ?" said Mrs. Rooney ; for that was 
 the unenviable but descriptive title the new comer was known by ; and 
 though she knew it for her sobriquet, yet she also knew Mrs. Rooney 
 would not call her by it if she were not in an ill temper, so she began 
 humbly to explain the cause of her visit, when Mrs. Rooney broke in 
 gruffly : 
 
 " Oh, you always make out a good rayson for coming ; but we have 
 nothing for you to-night." 
 
 " Throth, you do me wrong," said the beggar, " if you think I came 
 sliooling.* It's only to keep harm from the innocent girl here." 
 
 " Arrah, what harm would happen her, woman ?" returned the widow, 
 savagely, rendered more morose by the humble bearing of her against 
 whom she directed her severity ; as if she got more angry the less the 
 poor creature would give her cause to justify her harshness. " Isn't she 
 undher my roof, here?" 
 
 " But how long may she be left there ?" asked the woman, sig- 
 nificantly. 
 
 " What do you mane, woman ?" 
 
 11 I mane, there's a plan to carry her off from you to-night?" 
 
 " Oonah grew pale with true terror, and the widow screeched, after 
 the more approved manner of elderly ladies, making believe they are 
 very much shocked, till Nance reminded her that crying would do no 
 good, and that it was requisite to make some preparation against the 
 approaching danger. Various plans were hastily suggested, and as 
 hastily relinquished, till Nance advised a measure which was deemed 
 the best. It was to dress Andy in female attire, and let him be carried 
 off in place of the girl. Andv roared with laughter at the notion of 
 being made a girl of, and said the trick would instantly be seen 
 through. 
 
 " Not if you act your part well ; just keep down the giggle, jewel, 
 and put on a moderate phillelew, and do the thing nice and steady, and 
 you'll be the saving of your cousin here." 
 
 " You may deceive them with the dhress ', and / may do a bit of a 
 small shilloo, like a colleen in disthress, and that's all very well," said 
 Andy, " as far as seeing and hearing goes ; but when they come to grip 
 me, sure they'll find out in a minute." 
 
 * Going on chance here and there, to pick up what one can. 
 
HANDY ANDY. 279 
 
 "We'll stuff you out well 'with rags and sthraw, and they'll never 
 know the differ — besides, remember the fellow that wants a girl never 
 comes for her himself,* but sends his friends for her, and they won't 
 know the differ — besides, they're all dhrunk." 
 
 " How do you know ? " 
 
 " Because they're always dhrunk — that same crew ; and if they're not 
 dhrunk to-night, it's the first time in their lives they ever were sober. 
 So make haste, now, and put aff your coat till we make a purty young 
 colleen out o' you." 
 
 It occurred now to the widow that it was a service of great danger 
 Andy was called on to perform : and with all her abuse of her 
 " omadhawn" she did not like the notion of putting him in the way of 
 losing his life, perhaps. 
 
 " They'll murdher the boy, maybe, when they find out the chate,' 
 said the widow. 
 
 " Not a bit," said Nance. 
 
 " And suppose they did," said Andy, " I'd rather die, sure, than 
 the disgrace should fall upon Oonah, there." 
 
 " God bless you, Andy, dear!" said Oonah. " Sure, you have the 
 kind heart, any how ; but I wouldn't for the world hurt or harm should 
 come to you on my account." 
 
 " Oh, don't be afeard!" said Andy, cheerily ; " divil a hair I value 
 all they can do ; so dhress me up at oncet." 
 
 After some more objections on the part of his mother, which Andy 
 overruled, the women all joined in making up Andy into as tempting an 
 imitation of feminality as they could contrive ; but to bestow the 
 roundness of outline on the angular forms of Andy, was no easy matter, 
 and required more rags than the house afforded ; so some straw was 
 indispensable, which the pig's bed only could supply. In the midst of 
 their fears, the women could not help laughing as they effected some 
 likeness to their own forms, with their stuffing and padding ; but to 
 carry off the width of Andy's shoulders, required a very ample and 
 voluptuous outline indeed ; and Andy could not help wishing the straw 
 was a little sweeter which they were packing under his nose. At last, 
 however, after soaping down his straggling hair on his forehead, and 
 tying a bonnet upon his head to shade his face as much as possible, the 
 disguise was completed, and the next move was to put Oonah in a place 
 of safety. 
 
 " Get up on the hurdle in the corner, under the thatch," said 
 Nance. 
 
 " Oh, I'd be afeard o' my life to stay in the house at all." 
 
 " You'd be safe enough, I tell you," said Nance ; " for once they see 
 that fine young woman there," pointing to Andy, and laughing, " they'll 
 be satisfied with the lob we've made for them." 
 
 Oonah still expressed her fear of remaining in the cabin. 
 
 " Then hide in the pratee thrench, behind the house." 
 
 " That's better," said Oonah. 
 
 " And now 1 must be going," said Nance ; " for they must not see 
 me when they come." 
 
 * This is mostly the case. 
 
28G HANDY ANDY. 
 
 " Oh, don't leave me, Nance, dear," cried Oonah, " for I'm sure I'll 
 faint with the fright when I hear them coming, if some one is not 
 with me." 
 
 Nance yielded to Oonah 's fears and entreaties ; and with many a 
 blessing and boundless thanks for the beggar-woman's kindness, Oonah 
 led the way to the little potato garden at the back of the house, and 
 there the women squatted themselves in one of the trenches, and 
 awaited the impending event. 
 
 It was not long in arriving. The tramp of approaching horses at a 
 sharp pace rang through the stillness of the night, and the women, 
 crouching flat beneath the overspreading branches of the potato tops, 
 lay breathless in the bottom of the trench, as the riders came up to the 
 widow's cottage, and entered. There they found the widow and her 
 pseudo niece sitting at the fire ; and three drunken vagabonds, for the 
 fourth was holding the horses outside, cut some fantastic capers round 
 the cabin, and making a mock obeisance to the widow, the spokesman 
 addressed her with, — 
 
 " Your sarvant, ma'am !" 
 
 " Who are yiz at all, gintlemin, that comes to my place at this time 
 o' night, and what's your business ?" 
 
 " We want the loan o' that young woman there, ma'am," said the 
 ruffian. 
 
 Andy and his mother both uttered small squalls. 
 
 " And as for who we are, ma'am, we are the blessed society of 
 Saint Joseph, ma'am, — our coat of arms is two heads upon one pillow, 
 and our motty, ' Who's afraid ? — hurroo !' " shouted the savage, and he 
 twirled his stick, and cut another caper. Then coming up to Andy, 
 he addressed him as " young woman," and said there was a fine 
 strapping fellow, whose heart was breaking till he " rowled her in his 
 arms." 
 
 Andy and the mother both acted their parts very well. He rushed 
 to the arms of the old woman for protection, and screeched small, while 
 the widow shouted " millia marther!" at the top of her voice, and did 
 not give up her hold of the make-believe young woman until her cap 
 was torn half off, and her hair streamed about her face. She called on 
 all the saints in the calendar, as she knelt in the middle of the floor, and 
 rocked to and fro, with her clasped hands raised to heaven, calling down 
 curses on the " villains and robbers," that were tearing her child from 
 her, while they threatened to stop her breath altogether if she did not 
 make less noise ; and in the midst of the uproar dragged off Andy, whose 
 struggles and despair might have excited the suspicion of soberer men. 
 They lifted him up on a stout horse, in front of the most powerful man 
 of the party, who gripped Andy hard round the middle, and pushed his 
 horse to a hand gallop, followed by the rest of the party. The proximity 
 of Andy to his cavaliero made the latter sensible of the bad odour of 
 the pig's bed, which formed Andy's luxurious bust and bustle ; but he 
 attributed the unsavoury scent to a bad breath on the lady's part, and 
 would sometimes address his charge thus : — 
 
 " Young woman, if you plaze, would you turn your face th' other 
 way ;" then in a side soliloquy, — " By Jaker, I wondher at Jack's taste 
 
/// / 
 
 i i V 1/ v. i , Aldine Chambers I.Tii-rnripaor Haw L8+2 . 
 
HANDY ANDY. 281 
 
 ■~she's a fine lump of a girl, but her breath is murdher intirely — phew ! 
 — young woman, turn away your face, or by this and that I'll fall off 
 the horse. I've heerd of a bad breath that might knock a man down, 
 but I never met it till now. — Oh, murdher ! it's worse it's growin' — 
 I suppose 'tis the bumpin' she's gettin' that shakes the breath out of her 
 sthrong — oh, there it is again ! — phew !" 
 
 It was as well, perhaps, for the prosecution of the deceit, that the dis- 
 taste the fellow conceived for his charge prevented any closer approaches 
 to Andy's visage, which might have dispelled the illusion under which 
 he still pushed forward to the hills, and bumped poor Andy towards the 
 termination of his ride. Keeping a sharp look out as they went along, 
 Andy soon was able to perceive they were making for that wild 
 part of the hills where he had discovered the private still on the night 
 of his temporary fright and imaginary rencontre with the giants, and 
 the conversation he partly overheard all recurred to him, and he saw at 
 once that Oonah was the person alluded to, whose name he could not 
 catch; a circumstance that had cost him many a conjecture in the 
 interim. This gave him a clue to the persons into whose power he 
 was about to fall, after having so far defeated their scheme, and he saw 
 he should have to deal with very desperate and lawless parties. Re- 
 membering, moreover, the herculean frame of the innamorato, he calcu- 
 lated on an awful thrashing as the smallest penalty he should have to 
 pay for deceiving him, but was nevertheless determined to go through 
 the adventure with a good heart, to make deceit serve his turn 
 as long as he might, and at the last, if necessary, make the best fight he 
 could. 
 
 As it happened, luck favoured Andy in his adventure, for the 
 hero of the blunderbuss (and he, it will be remembered, was the love- 
 sick gentleman,) drank profusely on the night in question, quaffing deep 
 potations to the health of his Oonah, wishing luck to his friends and 
 speed to their horses, and every now and then ascending the ladder 
 from the cave, and looking out for the approach of the party. On one 
 of these occasions, from the unsteadiness of the ladder, or himself, or 
 perhaps both, his foot slipped, and he came to the ground with a heavy 
 fall, in which his head received so severe a blow, that he became in- 
 sensible, and it was some time before his sister, who was an inhabitant 
 of this den, could restore him to consciousness. This she did, however, 
 and the savage recovered all the senses the whisky had left him, but 
 still the stunning effect of the fall cooled his courage considerably, 
 and, as it were, " bothered" him, so that he felt much less of the 
 " gallant gay Lothario" than he had done before the accident. 
 
 The tramp of horses was heard overhead ere long, and Shan More, 
 or Big John, as the Hercules was called, told Bridget to go up to " the 
 darlin'," and help her down. 
 
 " For that's a blackguard laddher," said he ; " it turned undher me 
 like an eel, bad luck to it ! — tell her, I'd go up myself, only the ground 
 is slippin' from undher me, — and the laddher — " 
 
 Bridget went off, leaving Jack growling forth anathemas against the 
 ground and the ladder, and returned speedily with the mock-lady and 
 her attendant squires. 
 
282 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 " Oh, my jewel !" roared Jack, as he caught sight of his prize. He 
 scrambled up on his legs, and made a rush at Andy, who imitated a 
 woman's scream and fright at the expected embrace, but it was with 
 much greater difficulty he suppressed his laughter at the headlong fall 
 with which Big Jack plunged his head into a heap of turf,* and hugged 
 a sack of malt which lay beside it. 
 
 Andy endeavoured to overcome the provocation to merriment by 
 screeching ; and as Bridget caught the sound of this tendency towards 
 laughter between the screams, she thought it was the commencement 
 of a fit of hysterics, and it accounted all the better for Andy's extra- 
 vagant antics. 
 
 " Oh, the craythur is frightened out of her life !" said Bridget. 
 " Leave her to me," said she to the men. " There, jewel machree !" 
 she continued to Andy, soothingly, — " don't take on you that way, — 
 don't be afeerd, — you're among friends, — Jack is only dhrunk dhrinking 
 your health, darlin', but he adores you." 
 
 Andy screeched. 
 
 " But don't be afeerd, — you'll be thrated tender, and he'll marry 
 you, darlin', like an honest woman !" 
 
 Andy squalled. 
 
 " But not to-night, jewel, — don't be frightened." 
 
 Andy gave a heavy sob at the respite. 
 
 " Boys, will you lift Jack out o' the turf, and carry him up into the 
 air, 'twill be good for him, and this dacent girl will sleep with me 
 to-night." 
 
 Andy couldn't resist a laugh at this, and Bridget feared the girl was 
 going off into hysterics again. 
 
 " Aisy, dear — aisy, — sure you'll be safe with me." 
 
 " Ow ! ow ! ow !" shouted Andy. 
 
 " Oh, murther!" cried Bridget, — " the sterricks will be the death 
 of her ; — you blackguards, you frightened her, coming up here, I'm 
 sure." 
 
 The men swore they behaved in the genteelest manner. 
 
 " Well, take away Jack, and the girl shall have share of my bed for 
 this night." 
 
 Andy shook internally with laughter. 
 
 " Dear, dear, how she thrimbles," cried Bridget. " Don't be so 
 frightful, lanna maehree, — there, now, — they're taking Jack away, and 
 you're alone with myself, and will have a nice sleep." 
 
 The men all the time were removing Shan More to upper air ; and 
 the last sounds they heard as they left the cave were the coaxing tones 
 of Bridget's voice, inviting Andy, in the softest words, to go to bed. 
 
 * Peat. 
 
HANDY ANDY. 283 
 
 CHAPTER XXXV. 
 
 The workshops of Neck-or-Nothing Hall rang with the sounds of 
 occupation for two days after the demise of its former master. The 
 hoarse grating sound of the saw, the whistling of the plane, and the 
 stroke of the mallet, denoted the presence of the carpenter ; and the 
 sharper clink of a hammer, told of old Fogy the family " milliner " being 
 at work ; — but it was not on millinery Fogy was now employed, though 
 neither was it legitimate tinker's work. He was scrolling out with his 
 shears, and beating into form, a plate of tin to serve for the shield on 
 O'Grady's coffin, which was to record his name, age, and day of de- 
 parture ; and this was the second plate on which the old man worked, 
 for one was already finished in the corner. Why are there two coffin- 
 plates ? Enter the carpenter's shop, and you will see the answer in 
 two coffins the carpenter has nearly completed. But why two coffins 
 for one death ? Listen, reader, to a bit of Irish strategy. 
 
 It has been stated that an apprehension was entertained of a seizure 
 of the inanimate body of O 'Grady for the debts it had contracted in 
 life, and the Harpy nature of the money-lender, from whom this move- 
 ment was dreaded, warranted the fear. Had O'Grady been popular, such 
 a measure on the part of a cruel creditor might have been defied, as the 
 surrounding peasantry would have risen en masse to prevent it; but the 
 hostile position in which he had placed himself towards the people, 
 alienated the natural affection they are born with for their chiefs, and 
 any partial defence the few fierce retainers whom individual interest had 
 attached to him could have made, might have been insufficient ; there- 
 fore, to save his father's remains from the pollution (as the son considered) 
 of a bailiff's touch, Gustavus determined to achieve by stratagem what he 
 could not accomplish by force, and had two coffins constructed, the one 
 to be filled with stones and straw, and sent out by the front entrance, 
 with all the demonstration of a real funeral, and be given up to the 
 attack it was feared would be made upon it; while the other, put to its 
 legitimate use, should be placed on a raft, and floated down the river 
 to an ancient burial-ground, which lay some miles below on the opposite 
 bank. A facility for this was offered by a branch of the river running 
 up into the domain, as it will be remembered ; and the scene of the 
 bearish freaks played upon Furlong was to witness a trick of a more 
 serious nature. 
 
 While all these preparations were going forward, the " waking " was 
 kept up in all the barbarous style of old times, — eating and drinking 
 in profusion went on in the house, and the kitchen of the hall rang with 
 joviality. The feats of sports and arms of the man who had passed away 
 were lauded, and his comparative achievements with those of his 
 
284 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 progenitors gave rise to many a stirring anecdote ; and bursts of 
 barbarous exultation, or more barbarous merriment, rang in the house 
 of death. There was no lack of whisky to fire the brains of these 
 revellers, for the standard of the measurement of family grandeur was, 
 too often, a liquid one in Ireland, even so recently as the time we speak 
 of; and the dozens of wine wasted during the life it helped to shorten, 
 and the posthumous gallons consumed in toasting to the memory of the 
 departed, were among the cherished remembrances of hereditary honour. 
 " There were two hogsheads of whisky drank at my father's wake !" 
 would have been but a moderate boast of a true Irish squire, fifty 
 years ago. 
 
 And now the last night of the wake approached, and the retainers 
 thronged to honour the obsequies of their departed chief with an 
 increased enthusiasm, which rose in proportion as the whisky got low ; 
 and songs in praise of their present occupation, (that is, getting drunk,) 
 rang merrily round, and the sports of the field, and the sorrows and 
 joys of love resounded ; in short, the ruling passions of life figured in 
 rhyme and music in honour of this occasion of death ; and as death is 
 the maker of widows, a very animated discussion on the subject of 
 widowhood arose, which afforded great scope for the rustic wits, 
 and was crowned by the song of " Widow Machree " being universally 
 called for by the company ; and a fine looking fellow, with a merry eye 
 and large white teeth, which he amply displayed by a wide mouth, 
 poured forth in cheery tones a pretty lively air, which suited w p N the 
 humorous spirit of the words : — 
 
 aHfoofo Jtftac&rtt. 
 
 " Widow machree, it's no wonder you frown, 
 
 Och hone ! widow machree ; 
 Faith, it ruins your looks, that same dirty black gown, 
 
 Och hone ! widow machree. 
 How altered your air, 
 With that close cap you wear — 
 'Tis destroying your hair 
 
 Which should be flowing free : 
 Be no longer a churl 
 Of its black silken curl, 
 
 Och hone ! widow machree ! 
 
 " Widow machree, now the summer is come, 
 
 Och hone ! widow machree; 
 When every thing smiles, should a beauty look glum I 
 
 Och hone ! widow machree. 
 See the birds go in pairs, 
 And the rabbits and hares- 
 Why even the bears 
 
 Now in couples agree ; 
 And the mute little fish, 
 Though they can't spake, they wish, 
 
 Och hone ! widow machree 
 
HANDY ANDY. 285 
 
 " Widow machree, and when winter comes in, 
 
 Och hone ! widow machree, 
 To be poking the fire all alone is a sin, 
 
 Och hone ! widow machree 
 "Why the shovel and tongs 
 To each other belongs, 
 And the kittle sings songs 
 
 Full of family glee; 
 While alone with your cup, 
 Like a hermit you sup, 
 
 Och hone ! widow machree. 
 
 " And how do you know, with the comforts I've towld, 
 
 Och hone ! widow machree, 
 But you're keeping some poor fellow out in the cowld, 
 
 Och hone ! widow machree. 
 With such sins on your head, 
 Sure your peace would be fled, 
 Could you sleep in your bed, 
 
 Without thinking to see 
 Some ghost or some sprite, 
 That would wake you each night, 
 
 Crying, ' Och hone ! widow machree.' 
 
 " Then take my advice, darling widow machree, 
 
 Och hone ! widow machree. 
 And with my advice, faith I wish you'd take me, 
 
 Och hone ! widow machree. 
 You'd have me to desire 
 Then to stir up the fire ; 
 And sure Hope is no liar 
 
 In whispering to me 
 That the ghosts would depart, 
 When you'd me near your heart, 
 
 Och hone ! widow machree." 
 
 The singer was honoured with around of applause, and his challenge 
 for another lay was readily answered, and mirth and music filled the 
 night and ushered in the dawn of the day which was to witness the 
 melancholy sight of the master of an ample mansion being made the 
 tenant of the " narrow house." 
 
 In the evening of that day, however, the wail rose loud and long ; 
 the mirth which " the waking " permits had passed away, and the idican, 
 or funeral cry, told that the lifeless chief was being borne from his 
 hall. That wild cry was heard even by the party who were waiting 
 to make their horrid seizure, and for that party, the stone-laden coffin 
 was sent with a retinue of mourners through the old iron gate of the 
 principal entrance, while the mortal remains were borne by a smaller 
 party to the river inlet, and placed on the raft. Half-an-hour had 
 witnessed a sham fight on the part of O'Grady's people with the bailiffs 
 and their followers, who made the seizure they intended, and locked up 
 their prize in an old barn to which it had been conveyed, until some 
 
286 HANDY ANDY 
 
 engagement on the part of the heir should liberate it ; while the afore- 
 said heir, as soon as the shadows of evening had shrouded the river in 
 obscurity, conveyed the remains, which the myrmidons of the law fancied 
 they possessed, to its quiet and lonely resting-place. The raft was 
 taken in tow by a boat carrying two of the boys, and pulled by four 
 lusty retainers of the departed chief; while Gustavus himself stood on 
 the raft, astride above the coffin, and with an eel spear, which had 
 afforded him many a day's sport, performed the melancholy task of 
 guiding it. It was a strangely painful yet beautiful sight, to behold the 
 graceful figure of the fine boy engaged in this last sad duty : with 
 dexterous energy he plied his spear, now on this side and now on that, 
 directing the course of the raft, or clearing it from the naggers which 
 interrupted its passage through the narrow inlet. This duty he had to 
 attend to for some time, even after leaving the little inlet, for the river 
 was much overgrown with flaggers at this point, and the increasing 
 darkness made the task more difficult. 
 
 In the midst of all this action not one word was spoken ; even the 
 sturdy boatmen were mute, and the fall of the oar in the rowlock, the 
 plash of the water, and the crushing sound of the yielding rushes, as the 
 " watery bier" made its way through them, were the only sounds 
 which broke the silence. Still Gustavus betrayed no emotion ; but by 
 the time they reached the open stream, and that his personal exertion 
 was no longer required, a change came over him. It was night, — the 
 measured beat of the oars sounded like a knell to him, — there was 
 darkness above him, and death below, and he sank down upon the 
 coffin, and, plunging his face passionately between his hands, he wept 
 bitterly. 
 
 Sad were the thoughts that oppressed the brain and wrung the heart 
 of the high-spirited boy. He felt that his dead father was escaping, as 
 it were, to the grave, — that even death did not terminate the conse- 
 quences of an ill-spent life. He felt like a thief in the night, even in 
 the execution of his own stratagem, and the bitter thoughts of that 
 sad and solemn time wrought a potent spell over after years, — that one 
 hour of misery and disgrace influenced the entire of a future life. 
 
 On a small hill overhanging the river was the ruin of an ancient 
 early temple of Christianity, and to its surrounding burial-ground a few 
 of the retainers had been despatched to prepare a grave. They were 
 engaged in this task by the light of a torch made of bog pine, when the 
 flicker of fhe flame attracted the eye of a horseman who was riding 
 slowly along the neighbouring road. Wondering what could be the 
 cause of light in such a place, he leaped the- adjoining fence, and rode 
 up to the grave yard. 
 
 " What are you doing here ?" he said to the labourers. They paused 
 and looked up, and the flash of the torch fell upon the features of 
 Edward O'Connor. 
 
 " We're finishing your work!" said one of the men, with malicious 
 earnestness. 
 
 " My work ?" repeated Edward. 
 
 " Yis," returned the man, more sternly than before, — " this is the 
 grave of O'Grady." 
 
HANDY ANDY. 287 
 
 The words went like an ice-bolt through Edward's heart ; and even 
 by the torch-light the tormentor could see his victim grew livid. 
 
 The fellow who wounded so deeply one so generally beloved as 
 Edward O'Connor was a thorough ruffian. His answer to Edward's 
 query sprang not from love of O'Grady, nor abhorrence of taking human 
 life, but from the opportunity of retort which the occasion offered upon 
 one who had once checked him in an act of brutality. 
 
 Yet Edward O'Connor could not reply, — it was a home-thrust. The 
 death of O'Grady had weighed heavily upon him; for though O'Grady's 
 wound had been given in honourable combat, provoked by his own fury, 
 and not producing immediate death ; though that death had supervened 
 upon the subsequent intractability of the patient ; yet the fact that 
 O'Grady had never been " up and doing" since the duel, tended to 
 give the impression that his wound was the remote if not the immediate 
 cause of his death, and this circumstance weighed heavily on Edward's 
 spirits. His friends told him he felt over-keenly on the subject, and 
 that no one but himself could entertain a question of his total innocence 
 of O'Grady's death ; but when from the lips of a common peasant he 
 got the answer he did, and that beside the grave of his adversary, it 
 will not be wondered at that he reeled in his saddle. A cold shivering 
 sickness came over him, and to avoid falling he alighted, and leaned for 
 support against his horse, which stooped, when freed from the restraint 
 of ihe rein, to browse on the rank verdure ; and for the moment Edward 
 envied the unconsciousness of the animal against which he leaned. He 
 pressed his forehead against the saddle, and from the depth of a bleeding 
 heart came up the agonized exclamation of " O God ! O God !" 
 
 A gentle hand was laid on his shoulder as he spoke, and turning 
 round, he beheld Mr. Bermingham. 
 
 " What brings you here?" said the clergyman. 
 
 " Accident," answered Edward. " But why should I say accident 1 
 
 — It is by a higher authority and a better it is the will of Heaven. 
 
 It is meant as a bitter lesson to human pride : — we make for ourselves 
 laws of honour, and forget the laws of God!" 
 
 " Be calm, my young friend," said the worthy pastor ; " I cannot 
 wonder you feel deeply, — but command yourself." He pressed Edward's 
 hand as he spoke, and left him, for he knew that an agony so keen is 
 not benefitted by companionship. 
 
 Mr. Bermingham was there by appointment, to perform the burial 
 service, and he had not left Edward's side many minutes when along, 
 wild whistle from the waters announced the arrival of the boat and raft, 
 and the retainers ran down to the river, leaving the pine-torch stuck in 
 the upturned earth, waving its warm blaze over the cold grave. 
 During the interval which ensued between the departure of the men 
 and their reappearance, bearing the body to its last resting-place, Mr. 
 Bermingham spoke with Edward O'Connor, and soothed him into a more 
 tranquil bearing. When the coffin came within view, he advanced to 
 meet it, and began the sublime burial-service, which he repeated most 
 impressively. 
 
 When it was over, the men commenced filling up the grave. 
 
 As the clods fell heavily upon the coffin, they smote the hearts of the 
 
288 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 dead man's children ; yet the boys stood upon the verge of the grave 
 as long as a vestige of the tenement of their lost father could be seen ; 
 but as soon as the coffin was hidden, they withdrew from the brink, and 
 the younger boys, each taking hold of the hand of the eldest, seemed 
 to imply the need of mutual dependence : — as if death had drawn closer 
 the bond of brotherhood. 
 
 There was no sincerer mourner at that place than Edward O'Connor, 
 who stood aloof, in respect for the feelings of the children of the departed 
 man, till the grave was quite filled up, and all were about to leave the 
 spot; but then his feelings overmastered him, and, impelled by a 
 torrent of contending emotions, he rushed forward, and throwing him- 
 self on his knees before Gustavus, he held up his hands imploringly, 
 and sobbed forth, " Forgive me !" 
 
 The astonished boy drew back. 
 
 " Oh, forgive me !" repeated Edward, — " I could not help it — it was 
 forced on me — it was — " 
 
 As he struggled for utterance, even the rough retainers were touched, 
 and one of them exclaimed, " Oh, Mr. O'Connor, it was a fair fight !" 
 
 " There !" exclaimed Edward, — " you hear it ! — Oh, give me your 
 hand in forgiveness !" 
 
 " I forgive you," said the boy, " but do not ask me to give you my 
 hand to-night." 
 
 " You are right," said Edward, springing to his feet, — " you are 
 right, — you are a noble fellow ; and now, remember, Gustavus, by the 
 side of your father's grave, I pledge you my soul, that through life and 
 till death, in all extremitv. Edward O'Connor is your sworn and 
 trusty friend." 
 
HANDY ANDY. 289 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVI. 
 
 While the foregoing scene of sadness took place in the lone 
 church-yard, unholy watch was kept over the second coffin by the 
 myrmidons of the law. The usurer who made the seizure, had brought 
 down from Dublin three of the most determined bailiffs from amongst 
 the tribe, and to their care was committed the keeping of the supposed 
 body in the old barn. Associated with these worthies were a couple of 
 ill-conditioned country blackguards, who, for the sake of a bottle of 
 whisky, would keep company with old Nick himself, and who expected, 
 moreover, to hear "a power o'news" from the "gentlemen" from Dublin, 
 who in their turn did not object to have their guard strengthened, as 
 their notions of a rescue in the country parts of Ireland were any 
 thing but agreeable. The night was cold, so, clearing away the 
 sheaves of corn, with which the barn was stored, from one of its 
 extremities, they made a turf fire, and stretched themselves on a good 
 shake-down of straw before the cheering blaze, and circulated among 
 them a bottle of whisky, of which they had good store. A tap at 
 the door announced a new comer ; but the Dublin bailiffs, fearing a 
 surprise, hesitated to open to the knock, until their country allies 
 assured them it was a friend, whose voice they recognised. The door 
 was opened, and in walked Larry Hogan, to pick up his share of what 
 was going, whatever it might be. 
 
 " I thought you wor for keepin' me out altogether," said Larry. 
 
 " The gintlemin from Dublin was afeard of what they call a 
 riskya," (rescue) said the peasant, " till I tould them 'twas a friend." 
 
 " Divil a riskya will come near you to-night," said Larry, " you may 
 make your minds aisy about that, for the people doesn't care enough 
 about his bones to get their own broke in savin' him ; and no wondher. 
 It's a lantherumswash bully he always was, quiet as he is now. And 
 there you are, my bowld squire," said he, apostrophizing the^coffin, 
 which had been thrown on a heap of sheaves. " Faix, it's a good 
 kitchen you kep' any how, whenever you had it to spind, and indeed, 
 when you hadn't, you spint it all the same, for the divil a much you 
 cared how you got it ; but death has made you pay the reckoning at 
 last — that thing that filly-officers call the debt o' nature must be paid, 
 whatever else you may owe." 
 
 " Why, it's as good as a sarmon to hear you," said one of the 
 bailiffs. 
 
 " O Larry, Sir, discourses iligant," answered the peasant. 
 
 "Tut, tut, tut," said Larry, with affected modesty; "it's not what 
 I say, but I can tell you a thing thatDocthor Growlin' put out an him 
 
 V 
 
290 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 more nor a year ago, which was mighty cute. Scholars calls it an 
 " epithet of dissipation," which means getting a man's tombstone ready 
 for him before he dies ; and divil a more cutting thing was ever cut on 
 a. tombstone than the doctor's rhyme ; this is it : — 
 
 ' Here lies O' Grady, that cantankerous creature, 
 Who paid, as all must pay, the debt of nature ; 
 But, keeping to his general maxim still, 
 Paid it — like other debts — against his will."'* 
 
 " What do you think o' that, Goggins ?" inquired one of the bailiffs 
 from the other; "you are a judge o' po'thry." 
 
 " It's sevare," answered Goggins, authoratively ; " but coorse. — 
 1 wish you'd brile the rashers, I begin to feel the calls o' nature, as 
 the poet says." 
 
 This Mister Goggins was a character in his way. He had the greatest 
 longing to be thought a poet, put execrable couplets together some- 
 times, and always talked as fine as he could ; and his mixture of 
 sentimentality, with a large stock of blackguardism, produced a strange 
 jumble. 
 
 " The people here thought it nate, Sir," said Larry. 
 
 " Oh, very well for the country !" said Goggins ; " but 'twouldn't 
 do for town." 
 
 " Misther Goggins knows best," said the bailiff who first spoke, 
 " for he's a pote himself, and writes in the newspapers." 
 
 " Oh, indeed !" said Larry. 
 
 " Yes," said Goggins, " sometimes 1 throw off little things for the 
 newspapers. There's a friend of mine, you see, a gentleman "connected 
 with the press, who is often in defficulties, and I give him a hint to 
 keep out o' the way when he's in trouble, and he swares I have a 
 genus for the muses, and encourages me " 
 
 " Humph !" says Larry. 
 
 " And puts in my things in the paper, when he gets the editor's 
 back turned, for the editor is a consaited chap, that likes no one's 
 po'thry but his own ; but never mind — if I ever get a writ against 
 that chap, won't I sarve it !" 
 
 " And I dar say some day you will have it agen him, Sir," said 
 Larry. 
 
 " Sure of it, a'most," said Goggins, " them litherary men is always 
 in defficulties." 
 
 " I wondher you'd be like them, then, and write at all," said Larry. 
 
 " Oh, as for me, it's only by way of amusement ; attached as I am 
 to the legal profession, my time wouldn't permit; but I have been 
 infected by the company I kept. The living images that creeps over 
 a man sometimes is irresitible, and you have no pace till you get them 
 out o' your head." 
 
 " Oh, indeed, they are very throublesome," says Larry, " and are the 
 latherary gintlemen, Sir, as you call them, mostly that way ?" 
 
 " To be sure ; it is that which makes a litherary man — his head is 
 full — teems with creation, Sir." 
 
 * These bitter lines were really written by a medical man against a bad pay. 
 
HANDY ANDY. 291 
 
 " Dear, dear !" said Larry. 
 
 " And when once the itch of litherature comes over a man, nothing 
 can cure it but the scratching of a pen." 
 
 " But if you have not a pen, I suppose you must scratch any other 
 way you can." 
 
 " To be sure," said Goggins, " I have seen a litherary gentleman in 
 a sponging house do crack things on the wall, with a bit of burnt stick, 
 rather than be idle — they must execute." 
 
 " Ha !" says Larry. 
 
 " Sometimes, in all their poverty and defficulty, I envy the ' fatal 
 fatality,' as the poet says, of such men in catching ideas." 
 
 " That's the genteel name for it, I suppose," says Larry. 
 
 " Oh !" exclaimed Goggins, enthusiastically, " I know the satisfaction 
 of catching a man, but it's nothing at all compared to catching an idea. 
 For the man, you see, can give bail, and get off, but the idea is your 
 own for ever. And then a rhyme — when it has puzzled you all day, 
 the pleasure you have in nabbing it at last !" 
 
 " Oh, then it's po'thry you're spakin' about," said Larry. 
 
 "To be sure," said Goggins; " do you think I'd throw away my 
 time on prose ?" — " You're burning tbat bacon, Tim," said he to his sub. 
 
 " Poethry agen the world !" continued he to Larry, " the Castilian 
 sthraime forme ! — Hand us that whisky" — he put the bottle to his lips 
 and took a swig — "That's good — you do a bit of private here, I suspect," 
 said he, with a wink at Larry, and pointing to the bottle. 
 
 Larry returned a significant grin, but said nothing. 
 
 " Oh, don't be afraid o' me — I wouldn't 'peach" — 
 
 " Sure it's agen the law, and you're a gintleman o' the law," said 
 Larry. 
 
 "That's no rule," said Goggins, " the lord chief justice always goes 
 to bed, they say, with six tumblers o' potteen under his belt ; and I 
 always dhrink it myself," 
 
 " Arrah, how do you get it ?" said Larry. 
 
 " From a gentleman, a friend o' mine, in the custom house." 
 
 " A- dad, that's quare," said Larry, laughing. 
 
 " Oh, we see queer things, I tell you," said Goggins, " we gentle- 
 men of the law." 
 
 " To be sure you must," returned Larry, " and mighty improvin' it 
 must be. Did you ever catch a thief, Sir ?" 
 
 " My good man, you mistake mv profession," said Goggins, proudly ; 
 we never have any thing to do in the criminal line — that's much 
 beneath us." 
 
 " I ax your pardon, Sir." — 
 
 " No offence, no offence." 
 
 " But it must be mighty improvin', I think, ketching of thieves, and 
 finding out their thricks and hidin' places, and the like ?" 
 
 " Yes, yes," said Goggins, " good fun ; though I don't do it, I know 
 all about it, and could tell queer things too." 
 
 " Arrah, maybe you would, Sir ?" said Larry. 
 
 " Maybe I will, after we nibble some rashers — will you take 
 share ?" 
 
 v 2 
 
292 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 " Musha, long life to you," said Larry, always willing to get what- 
 ever he could. A repast was now made, more resembling a feast of 
 savages round their war-fire, than any civilized meal ; slices of bacon 
 broiled in the fire, and eggs roasted in the turf-ashes. The viands 
 were not objectionable; but the cooking! — Oh! — There was neither 
 gridiron nor frying-pan, fork nor spoon ; a couple of clasp-knives served 
 the whole party. Nevertheless, they satisfied their hunger, and then 
 sent the bottle en its exhilarating round. Soon after that many a 
 story of burglary, robbery, swindling, petty larceny, and every con- 
 ceivable crime, was related for the amusement of the circle ; and the 
 plots and counter-plots of thieves and thief- takers raised the wonder of 
 the peasants. 
 
 Larry Hogan was especially delighted : more particularly when some 
 trick of either villany or cunning came out. 
 
 "Now, women are troublesome cattle to deal with mostly," said 
 Goggins. " They are remarkably 'cute first, and then they are spiteful 
 after ; and for circumventin' either way, are sharp hands. You see 
 they do it quieter than men ; a man will make a noise about it, 
 but a woman does it all on the sly. There was Bill Morgan, and a 
 sharp fellow too, and he had set his heart on some silver spoons he 
 used to see down in a kitchen windy, but the servant maid, some 
 how or other, suspected there was designs about the place, and was on 
 the watch. — Well, one night when she was all alone, she heard a noise 
 outside the windy, so she kept as quiet as a mouse. By an by the 
 sash was attempted to be raised from the outside, so she laid hold of a 
 kettle of boiling wather, and stood hid behind the shutter. The windy 
 was now raised a little, and a hand and arm thrust in to throw up the 
 sash altogether, when the girl poured the boiling water down the 
 sleeve of Bill's coat. Bill roared with the pain, when the girl said to him, 
 laughing, through the windy — ' I thought you came for something.' " 
 
 " That was a 'cute girl," said Larry, chuckling. 
 
 " Well, now, that's an instance of a woman's cleverness in prevent- 
 ing. I'll tell you one of her determinations to discover, and prosecute 
 to conviction ; and in this case, what makes it curious is, that Jack Tate 
 had done the bowldest things, and run the greatest risks, ' the eminent 
 deadly,' as the poet says, when he was done up at last by a 
 feather-bed." 
 
 " A feather-bed," repeated Larry, wondering how a feather-bed could 
 influence the fate of a bold burglar, while Goggins mistook his 
 exclamation of surprise to signify the paltriness of the prize, and there- 
 fore chimed in with him. 
 
 " Quite true- — no wonder you wonder — quite below a man of his 
 pluck ; but the fact was, a sweetheart of his was longing for a feather- 
 bed, and Jack determined to get it. Well, he marched into a house, 
 the door of which he found open, and went up stairs and took the best 
 feather-bed in the house, tied it up in the best quilt, crammed some 
 caps and ribbons he saw lying about into the bundle, and marched 
 down stairs again ; but you see, in carrying off even the small thing of 
 a feather-bed, Jack showed the skill of a high practitioner, for he 
 descendhered the stairs backwards. ' 
 
HANDY ANDY. 293 
 
 " Backwards," said Larry, " what was that for ?" 
 "You'll see, by and by," said Goggins; "he descendhered back- 
 wards, when suddenly he heerd a door opening, and a faymale voice ex- 
 claim, ' Where are you going with that bed ?' 
 
 " ' I am going up stairs with it, ma'am,' said Jack, whose backward 
 position favoured his lie ; and he began to walk up again. 
 
 " ' Come down here,' said the lady, 'we want no beds here, man.' 
 " ' Mr. Sullivan, ma'am, sent me home with it himself,' said Jack, 
 still mounting the stairs. 
 
 " ' Come down, I tell you,' said the lady, in a great rage. ' There's 
 no Mr. Sullivan lives here, — go out of this with your bed, you stupid 
 fellow.' 
 
 " ' I beg your pardon, ma'am,' says Jack, turning round, and 
 marching off with the bed fair and aisy. 
 
 " Well, there was a regular shilloo in the house when the thing was 
 found out, and cart ropes wouldn't howld the lady for the rage she 
 was in at being diddled ; so she offered rewards, and the dickens 
 knows all ; and what do you think at last discovered our poor Jack ?" 
 "The sweetheart, maybe," said Larry, grinning in ecstasy at the 
 thought of human perfidy. 
 
 " No," said Goggins, " honour even among sweethearts, though they 
 do the trick sometimes, I confess ; but no woman of any honour would 
 betray a great man like Jack. No — 'twas one of the paltry ribbons 
 that brought conviction home to him ; the woman never lost sight of 
 hunting up evidence about her feather-bed, and, in the end, a ribbon 
 out of one of her caps settled the hash of Jack Tate." 
 
 From robbings they went on to tell of murders, and at last that un- 
 comfortable sensation which people experience after a feast of horrors, 
 began to pervade the party ; and whenever they looked round, there 
 was the coffin in the background. 
 
 " Throw some turf on the fire," said Goggins, " 'tis burning low, and 
 change the subject ; the tragic muse has reigned sufficiently long — 
 enough of the dagger and the bowl — sink the socks, and put on the 
 buckskins. — Leather away, Jim — sing us a song." 
 " What is it to be ?" asked Jim. 
 
 " Oh — that last song of the Solicitor-General's," said Goggins, with 
 an air as if the Solicitor- General were his particular friend. 
 " About the robbery?" inquired Jim. 
 " To be sure," returned Goggins. 
 
 " Dear me," said Larry, " and would so grate a man as the Solicithor- 
 Giniral demane himself by writin' about robbers ?" 
 
 " Oh!" said Goggins, "those in the heavy profession of the law 
 must have their little private moments of rollickzation ; and them high 
 men, you see, like to do a bit of low by way of variety. ' The Night 
 before Larry was stretched,' was done by a bishop, they say ; and 
 ' Lord Altamont's Bull ' by the Lord Chief Justice ; and the Solicitor- 
 General is as up to fun as any bishop of them all. — Come, Jim, tip us 
 the stave ! " 
 
 Jim cleared his throat and obeyed his chief. 
 
294 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 " A traveller wended the wilds among, 
 With a purse of gold and a silver tongue; 
 His hat it was broad, and ill drab were his clothes, 
 For he hated high colours — except on his nose, 
 And he met with a lady, the story goes. 
 
 Heigho ! yea thee and nay the«. 
 
 " The damsel she cast him a merry blink, 
 And the traveller nothing was loth, I think ; 
 Her merry black eye beamed her bonnet beneath, 
 And the quaker he grinned, for he'd very good teeth, 
 And he ask'd, ' Art thee going to ride on the heath?' 
 
 Heigho ! yea thee and nay thee. 
 
 ' I hope you'll protect me, kind sir,' said the maid, 
 ' As to ride this heath over I'm sadly afraid j 
 For robbers, they say, here in numbers abound, 
 And I wouldn't 'for anything ' I should be found, 
 For — between you and me — I have five hundred pound.' 
 Heigho ! yea thee and nay thee. 
 
 1 ' If that is thee* own, dear,' the quaker he said, 
 ' I ne'er saw a maiden I sooner would wed ; 
 And I have another five hundred just now, 
 In the padding that's under my saddle bow, 
 And I'll settle it all upon thee, I vow ! 
 
 Heigho ! yea thee and nay thee. 
 
 " The maiden she smil'd, and her rein she drew, 
 ' Your offer I'll take — though I'll not take you;' 
 A pistol she held at the quaker's head — 
 ' Now give me your gold — or I'll give you my lead — 
 'Tis under the saddle, I think you said.' 
 
 Heigho ! yea thee and nay thee. 
 
 The damsel she ripp'd up the saddle-bow, 
 And the quaker was never a quaker till now ; 
 And he saw by the fair one he wish'd for a bride 
 His purse borne away with a swaggering stride, 
 And the eye that look'd tender, now only defied. 
 
 Heigho ! yea thee and nay thee. 
 
 " 'The spirit doth move me, friend Broad-brim,' quoth she, 
 1 To take all this filthy temptation from thee, 
 For Mammon deceiveth — and beauty is fleeting ; 
 Accept from thy maai-d'n a right loving greeting, 
 For much doth she profit by this quaker's meeting. 
 
 Heigho ! yea thee and nay thee. 
 
 * The inferior class of quakers make thee serve not only its own grammatical use 
 but also do the duty of thy and thine. 
 
HANDY ANDY. 295 
 
 1 ' And hark ! jolly quaker, so rosy and sly, 
 ' Have righteousness more than a wench in thine eye, 
 Don't go again peeping girls' bonnets beneath, 
 Remember the one that you met on the heath, 
 Her name's Jimmy Barlow — I tell to your teeth!' 
 
 Heigho ! yea thee and nay thee. 
 
 1 ' Friend James,' quoth the quaker, ' pray listen to me, 
 For thou canst confer a great favour, d'ye see ; 
 The gold thou hast taken is not mine, my friend, 
 But my master's — and truly on thee I depend 
 To make it appear I my trust did defend.' 
 
 Heigho ! yea thee and nay thee. 
 
 ; ' So fire a few shots through my clothes, here and there, 
 To make it appear 'twas a desp'rate affair.' 
 So Jim he popped first through the skirt of his coat, 
 And then through his collar — quite close to his throat; 
 ' Now once through my broad brim,' quoth Ephraim, ' I vote.' 
 Heigho ! yea thee and nay thee. 
 
 ' I have but a brace,' said bold Jim, and they're spent, 
 And I won't load again for a make-believe rent.' — 
 'Then' — said Ephraim — producing his pistols — 'just give 
 My five hundred pounds back — or as sure as you live 
 I'll make of your body a riddle or sieve.' 
 
 Heigho ! yea thee and nay thee.' 
 
 " Jim Barlow was diddled — and though he was game, 
 He saw Ephraim's pistol so deadly in aim, 
 That he gave up the gold, and he took to his scrapers, 
 And when the whole story got into the papers, 
 They said that 'the thieves were no match for the quahers.' 
 
 Heigho ! yea thee and nay thee." 
 
 " Well, it's a quare thing you should be singin' a song here," said 
 Larry Hogan, " about Jim Barlow, and it's not over half a mile out o' 
 this very place he was hanged." 
 
 " Indeed!" exclaimed all the men at once, looking with great interest 
 at Larry. 
 
 " It's truth I'm telling you. He made a very bowld robbery up by 
 the long hill there, on two gentlemin, for he was mighty stout." 
 
 " Pluck to the backbone," said Goggins. 
 
 " Well, he tuk the purses aff both o' them; and just as he was 
 goin' on afther doin' that same, what should appear on the road before 
 him, but two other thravellers coming up forninst him. With that the 
 men that was robbed cried out ' Stop thief!' and so Jim, seein' himself 
 
296 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 hemmed in betune the four o' them, faced his horse to the ditch, and 
 took across the counthry ; but the thravellers was well mounted as well 
 as himself, and powdhered afther him like mad. Well, it was equal to 
 a steeple chase a'most ; and Jim, seein' he could not shake them off, 
 thought the best thing he could do was to cut out some throublesome 
 work for them ; so he led off where he knew there was the divil's own 
 leap to take, and he intended to 'pound* them there, and be off in the 
 mane time ; but as ill luck would have it, his own horse, that was as 
 bowld as himself, and would jump at the moon if he was faced to it, 
 missed his foot in takin' off, and fell short o' the leap and slipped his 
 shouldher, and Jim himself had a bad fall of it too, and, av coorse, it 
 was all over wid him — and up came the four gintlemen. — Well, Jim 
 had his pistols yet, and he pulled them out, and swore he'd shoot the 
 first man that attempted to take him ; but the gintlemen had pistols as 
 well as he, and were so hot on the chase they determined to have him, 
 and closed on him. Jim fired and killed one o' them ; but he got a ball in 
 the shouldher himself from another, and he was taken. Jim sthruv to 
 shoot himself with his second pistol, but it missed fire. ' The curse o' 
 the road is on me,' said Jim ; ' my pistol missed fire, and my horse 
 slipped his shouldher, and now I'll be scragged,' says he, ' but it's not 
 for nothing — I've killed one o' ye,' says he." 
 
 " He was all pluck," said Goggins. 
 
 "Desperate bowld," said Larry. — " Well, he was thried and con- 
 dimned, av coorse ; and was hanged, as I tell you, half a mile out o' 
 this very place where we are sittin', and his appearance walks, they say, 
 ever since." 
 
 " You don't say so !" said Goggins. 
 
 " Faith, it's thrue !" answered Larry. 
 
 " You never saw it," said Goggins. 
 
 "The Lord forbid!" returned Larry; "but it's thrue, for all that. 
 For you see the big house near this barn, that is all in ruin, was 
 desarted because Jim's ghost used to walk." 
 
 " That was foolish," said Goggins ; " stir up the fire, Jim, and hand 
 me the whisky." 
 
 " Oh, if it was only walkin', they might have got over that ; but at 
 last, one night, as the story goes, when there was a thremendious storm 
 o' wind and rain — " 
 
 " Whisht !" said one of the peasants, " what's that ?' 
 
 As they listened they heard the beating of heavy rain against the 
 door, and the wind howled through its chinks. 
 
 " Well," said Goggins, "what are you stopping for?" 
 
 " Oh, I'm not stoppin'," said Larry ; " I was sayin' that it was a bad 
 wild night, and Jimmy Barlow's appearance came into the house, and 
 asked them for a glass o' sper'ts, and that he'd be obleeged to them if 
 they'd help him with his horse that slipped his shouldher ; and, faith, 
 afther that they'd stay in the place no longer ; and, signs on it, the 
 house is gone to rack and ruin, and it's only this barn that is kept up 
 at all, because it's convaynient for owld Skinflint on the farm." 
 
 * Impound. 
 
HANDY ANDY. 297 
 
 " That's all nonsense/' said Gogginsj who wished, nevertheless, 
 that he had not heard the ' nonsense.' " Come, sing another song, 
 Jim." 
 
 Jim said he did not remember one. 
 
 " Then you sing, Ralph." 
 
 Ralph said every one knew he never did more than join a chorus. 
 
 " Then join me in a chorus," said Goggins, " for I'll sing, if Jim's 
 afraid.'' 
 
 " I'm not afraid," said Jim. 
 
 " Then why won't you sing?" 
 
 " Because I don't like." 
 
 " Ah!" exclaimed Goggins. 
 
 " Well, maybe you're afraid yourself," said Jim, " if you told 
 truth." 
 
 " Just to show you how little I'm afraid," said Goggins, with a 
 swaggering air, " I'll sing another song about Jimmy Barlow." 
 
 " You'd better not," said Larry Hogan ; " let him rest in pace !" 
 
 " Fudge !" said Goggins. " Will you join chorus, Jim?" 
 
 " I will," said Jim, fiercely. 
 
 " We'll all join," said the men, (except Larry,) who felt it would be 
 a sort of relief to bully away the supernatural terror which hung round 
 their hearts after the ghost story, by the sound of their own voices. 
 
 " Then here goes ! " said Goggins, who started another long ballad 
 about Jimmy Barlow, in the opening of which all joined. It ran as 
 follows : — 
 
 " My name it is Jimmy Barlow, 
 I was born in the town of Carlow, 
 And here I lie in Maryborough jail, 
 All for the robbing of the "VVicklow mail, 
 Fol de rol de riddle i-do !" 
 
 As it would be tiresome to follow this ballad through all its length, 
 breadth, and thickness, we shall leave the singers engaged in their 
 chorus, while we call the reader's attention to a more interesting person 
 than Mister Goggins or Jimmy Barlow. 
 
298 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVII. 
 
 When Edward O'Connor had hurried from the burial-place, he threw 
 himself into his saddle, and urged his horse to speed, anxious to fly the 
 spot where his feelings had been so harrowed ; and as he swept along 
 through the cold night wind which began to rise in gusty fits, and 
 howled past him, there was, in the violence of his rapid motion, something 
 congenial to the fierce career of painful thoughts which chased each 
 other through his heated brain. He continued to travel at this rapid 
 pace, so absorbed in bitter reflection as to be quite insensible to external 
 impressions, and he knew not how far nor how fast he was going, though 
 the heavy breathing of his horse at any other time would have been signal 
 sufficient to draw the rein ; but still he pressed onward, and still the 
 storm increased, and each acclivity was topped but to sweep down the 
 succeeding slope at the same deperate pace. Hitherto the road over 
 which he pursued his fleet career lay through an open country, and 
 though the shades of a stormy night hung above it, the horse could make 
 his way in safety through the gloom ; but now they approached an old 
 road which skirted an ancient domain, whose venerable trees threw their 
 arms across the old causeway, and added their shadows to the darkness 
 of the night. 
 
 Many and many a time had Edward ridden in the soft summer under 
 the green shade of these very trees, in company with Fanny Dawson, 
 his guiltless heart full of hope and love ; — perhaps it was this very 
 thought crossing his mind at the moment which made his present cir- 
 cumstances the more oppressive. He was guiltless no longer, — he rode 
 not in happiness with the woman he adored under the soft shade of 
 summer trees, but heard the wintry wind howl through their leafless 
 boughs as he hurried in maddened speed beneath them, and heard in 
 the dismal sound but an echo of the voice of remorse which was ringing 
 through his heart. The darkness was intense from the canopy of old 
 oaks which overhung the road, but still the horse was urged through the 
 dark ravine at speed, though one might not see an arm's length before 
 them. Fearlessly it was performed, though ever and anon, as the trees 
 swung about their heavy branches in the storm, smaller portions of the 
 boughs were snapped off and flung in the faces of the horse and the 
 rider, who still spurred and plashed his headlong way through the heavy 
 road beneath. Emerging at length from the deep and overshadowed 
 valley, a steep hill raised its crest in advance, but still up the stony 
 acclivity the feet of the mettled steed rattled rapidly, and flashed fire 
 from the flinty path. As they approached the top of the hill the force of 
 
HANDY ANDY. 299 
 
 the storm became more apparent, and on reaching its crest, the fierce 
 pelting of the mingled rain and hail made the horse impatient of the 
 storm of which his rider was heedless, — almost unconscious. The spent 
 animal with short snortings betokened his labour, and shook his head 
 passionately as the fierce hail shower struck him in the eyes and nostrils. 
 Still, however, was he urged downward, but he was no longer safe. 
 Quite blown, and pressed over a rough descent, the generous creature, 
 that would die rather than refuse, made a false step, and came heavily 
 to the ground. Edward was stunned by the fali, though not seriously 
 hurt ; and, after the lapse of a few seconds, recovered his feet, 
 but found the horse still prostrate. Taking the animal by the head, he 
 assisted him to rise, which he was not enabled to do till after several 
 efforts ; and when he regained his legs, it was manifest he was seriously 
 lamed ; and as he limped along with difficulty beside his master, who 
 led him gently, it became evident that it was beyond the animal's power 
 to reach his own stable that night. Edward for the first time was now 
 aware of how much he had punished his horse ; he felt ashamed of 
 using the noble brute with such severity, and became conscious that he 
 had been acting under something little short of frenzy. The conscious- 
 ness at once tended to restore him somewhat to himself, and he began 
 to look around on every side in search of some house where he could 
 find rest and shelter for his disabled horse. As he proceeded thus, the 
 care necessarily bestowed on his dumb companion partially called off 
 his thoughts from the painful theme with which they had been exclu- 
 sively occupied, and the effect was most beneficial. The first violent 
 burst of feeling was past, and a calmer train of thought succeeded ; he 
 for the first time remembered the boy had forgiven him, — and that was 
 a great consolation to him : he recalled, too, his own words, pledging to 
 Gustavus his friendship, and in this pleasing hope of the future he saw 
 much to redeem what he regretted of the past. Still, however, the 
 wild flare of the pine-torch over the lone grave of his adversary, and the 
 horrid answer of the grave-digger, that he was but " finishing his work," 
 would recur to his memory, and awake an internal groan. 
 
 From this painful reminiscence he sought to escape, by looking 
 forward to all he would do for Gustavus, and had become much calmer, 
 when the glimmer of a light not far ahead attracted him, and he soon 
 was enabled to perceive it proceeded from some buildings that lay on his 
 right, not far from the road. He turned up the rough path which formed 
 the approach, and the light escaped through the chinks of a large door, 
 which indicated the place to be a coach-house, or some such office, 
 belonging to the general pile, which seemed in a ruinous condition. 
 
 As he approached, Edward heard rude sounds of merriment, amongst 
 which the joining of many voices, in a " ree-raw" chorus, indicated that 
 a carouse was going forward within. 
 
 On reaching the door, he could perceive through a wide chink a group 
 of men sitting round a turf fire, which was piled at the far end of the 
 building, which had no fire-place, and the smoke, curling upwards to the 
 roof, wreathed the rafters in smoke ; beneath this vapoury canopy the 
 party sat drinking and singing, and Edward, ere he knocked for admit- 
 tance, listened to the following strange refrain. 
 
300 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 " For my name it is Jimmy Barlow, 
 J was born in the town of Carlow, 
 And here I lie in Maryborough jail, 
 All for the robbing of the Wicklow mail. 
 
 Fol de rol de riddle-iddle-ido ! " 
 
 Then the principal singer took up the song, which seemed to be one 
 of robbery, blood, and murder, for it rau thus : — 
 
 " Then he cocked his pistol gaily, 
 And stood before him bravely, 
 Smoke and fire is my desire, 
 So blaze away, my game-cock squire. 
 
 For my name it is Jimmy Barlow, 
 I was born, fyc." 
 
 Edward O'Connor knocked at the door loudly ; the words he had just 
 heard about " pistols," "blazing away," and, last of all, " squire," fell 
 gratingly on his ear at that moment, and seemed strangely to connect 
 themselves with the previous adventures of the night and his own sad 
 thoughts, and he beat against the door with violence. 
 
 The chorus ceased. 
 
 Edward repeated his knocking. 
 
 Still there was no answer; but he heard low and hurried muttering 
 inside. Determined, however, to gain admittance, Edward laid hold of 
 an iron hasp outside the door, which enabled him to shake the gate 
 with violence, that there might be no excuse on the part of the inmates 
 that they did not hear ; but in thus making the old door rattle in its 
 frame, it suddenly yielded to his touch, and creaked open on its rusty 
 hinges ; for when Larry Hogan had entered it had been forgotten to be 
 barred. 
 
 As Edward stood in the open doorway, the first object which met his 
 eye was the coffin, — and it is impossible to say how much at that 
 moment the sight shocked him ; he shuddered involuntarily, yet could 
 not withdraw his eyes from the revolting object; and the pallor with 
 which his previous mental anxiety had invested his cheek, increased as 
 ne looked on this last tenement of mortality. " Am I to see nothing 
 but the evidences of death's doings this night ?'' was the mental question 
 which shot through Edward's overwrought brain, and he grew livid at 
 the thought. He looked more like one raised from the grave than a 
 living being, and a wild glare in his eyes rendered his appearance still 
 more unearthly. He felt that shame which men always experience in 
 allowing their feelings to overcome them ; and by a great effort he mas- 
 tered his emotion and spoke, but the voice partook of the strong nervous 
 excitement under which he laboured, and was hollow and broken, and 
 seemed more like that which one might fancy to proceed from the jaws 
 of a sepulchre, than one of flesh and blood. Beaten by the storm, too, 
 his hair hung in wet flakes over his face, and added to his wild appear- 
 ance, so that the men all jumped to their feet the first glimpse they 
 caught of him, and huddled themselves together in the farthest corner 
 of the building, from whence they eyed him with evident alarm. 
 
 Edward thought some whisky might check the feeling of faintness 
 
" \ I 1 
 
 
 I 'h.t :r. I .. i .. |'.:1. 
 
HANDY ANDY. .301 
 
 which overcame him ; and though he deemed it probable he had broken 
 in upon the nocturnal revel of desperate and lawless men, he never- 
 theless asked them to give him some ; but instead of displaying that 
 alacrity so universal in Ireland, of sharing the " creature " with a. new 
 comer, the men only pointed to the bottle which stood beside the fire, 
 and drew closer together. 
 
 Edward's desire for the stimulant was so great, that he scarcely 
 noticed the singular want of courtesy on the part of the men ; and 
 seizing the bottle (for there was no glass), he put it to his lips, and 
 quaffed a hearty dram of the spirit before he spoke. 
 
 " I must ask for shelter and assistance here," said Edward. " My 
 horse, I fear, has slipped his shoulder — " 
 
 Before he could utter another word, a simultaneous roar of terror 
 burst from the group — they fancied the ghost of Jimmy Barlow was 
 before them, and made a simultaneous rush from the barn ; and as they 
 saw the horse at the door, another yell escaped them, as they fled with 
 increased speed and terror. Edward stood in amazement as the men 
 rushed from his presence. He followed to the gate to recall them ; 
 they were gone ; he could only hear their yells in the distance. The 
 circumstance seemed quite unaccountable ; and as he stood lost in vain 
 surmises as to the cause of the strange occurrence, a low neigh of recog- 
 nition from the horse reminded him of the animal's wants, and he led 
 him into the barn, where, from the plenty of straw which lay around, he 
 shook down a litter where the maimed animal might rest. 
 
 He then paced up and down the barn, lost in wonder at the conduct 
 of those whom he found there, and whom his presence had so suddenly 
 expelled ; and ever as he walked towards the fire, the coffin caught his 
 eye. As a fitful blaze occasionally arose it flashed upon the plate, which 
 brightly reflected the flame, and Edward was irresistibly drawn, despite 
 his original impression of horror at the object, to approach and read the 
 inscription. The shield bore the name of " O'Grady," and Edward 
 recoiled from the coffin with a shudder, and inwardly asked, was he in 
 his waking senses ? He had but an hour ago seen his adversary laid in 
 his grave, yet here was his coffin again before him, as if to harrow up 
 his soul anew. Was it real, or a mockery ? Was he the sport of a 
 dream, or was there some dreadful curse fallen upon him, that he should 
 be for ever haunted by the victim of his arm, and the call of vengeance 
 for blood be ever upon his track? He breathed short and hard, and 
 the smoky atmosphere in which he was enveloped rendered respiration 
 still more difficult. As through this oppressive vapour, which seemed 
 only fit for the nether world, he saw the coffin-plate flash back the 
 flame, his imagination accumulated horror on horror ; and when the 
 blaze sank, and but the bright red of the fire was reflected, it seemed 
 to him to burn, as it were, with a spot of blood, and he could support 
 the scene no longer, but rushed from the barn in a state of mind bor- 
 dering on frenzy. 
 
 It was about an hour afterwards, near midnight, that the old barn was 
 in flames ; most likely some of the straw near the fire, in the confusion 
 of the breaking up of the part}', had been scattered within range of igni- 
 tion, and caused the accident. The flames were seen for miles round 
 
302 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 the country ; and the shattered walls of the ruined mansion-house were 
 illuminated brightly by the glare of the consuming barn, which, in the 
 morning, added its own blackened and reeking ruin to the desolation, 
 and crowds of persons congregated to the spot for many days after. The 
 charred planks of the coffin were dragged from amongst the ruin ; and 
 as the roof in falling in had dragged a large portion of the wall along with 
 it, the stones which had filled the coffin could not be distinguished from 
 those of the fallen building, therefore much wonder arose that no ves- 
 tige of the bones of the corse it was supposed to contain could be dis- 
 covered. Wonder increased to horror as the strange fact was promul- 
 gated ; and in the ready credulity of a superstitious people, the terrible 
 belief became general, that his sable majesty had made off with O'Grady 
 and the party watching him ; for as the Dublin bailiffs never stopped till 
 they got back to town, and were never seen again in the country, it was 
 most natural to suppose that the devil had made a haul of them at the 
 same time. In a few days rumour added the spectral appearance of Jim 
 Barlow to the tale, which only deepened its mysterious horror ; and 
 though, after some time, the true story was promulgated by those who 
 knew the real state of the case, yet the truth never gained ground, and 
 was considered but a clever sham, attempted by the family to prevent so 
 dreadful a story from attaching to their house ; and tradition perpetuates 
 to this hour the belief that the devil flew away with O'Grady. 
 
 Lone and shunned as the hill was where the ruined house stood, it 
 became more lone and shunned than ever ; and the boldest heart in the 
 whole country side would quail to be in its vicinity, even in the day- 
 time. To such a pitch the panic rose, that an extensive farm which 
 encircled it, and belonged to the old usurer who made the seizure, fell 
 into a profitless state, from the impossibility of men being found to work 
 upon it. It was useless even as pasture, for no one could be found to 
 herd cattle upon it ; altogether, it was a serious loss to the money- 
 grubber ; and so far the incident of the burnt barn, and the tradition it 
 gave rise to, acted beneficially, in making the inhuman act of warring 
 with the dead recoil upon the merciless old usurer. 
 
HANDY ANDY. 303 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVIII. 
 
 We left Andy in what may be called a delicate situation, and though 
 Andy's perceptions of the refined were not very acute, he himself began 
 to wonder how he should get out of the dilemma into which circum- 
 stances had thrown him ; and even to his dull comprehension, various 
 terminations to his adventure suggested themselves, till he became quite 
 confused in the chaos which his own thoughts created. One good idea, 
 however, Andy contrived to lay hold of out of the bundle which per- 
 plexed him ; he felt that to gain time would be an advantage, and if 
 evil must come of his adventure, the longer he could keep it off the 
 better ; so he kept up his affectation of timidity, and put in his sobs 
 and lamentations, like so many commas and colons, as it were, to prevent 
 Bridget from arriving at her climax of going to bed. 
 
 Bridget insisted bed was the finest thing in the world for a young 
 woman in distress of mind. 
 
 Andy protested he never could get a wink of sleep when his mind 
 was uneasy. 
 
 Bridget promised the most sisterly tenderness. 
 
 Andy answered by a lament for his mother. 
 
 " Come to bed, I tell you," said Bridget. 
 
 " Are the sheets aired ?" sobbed Andy. 
 
 "What!" exclaimed Bridget in amazement. 
 
 " If you are not sure of the sheets bein' aired," said Andy, " I'd be 
 afeard of catchin' cowld." 
 
 " Sheets, indeed !" said Bridget, " faith, it's a dainty lady you are, if 
 you can't sleep without sheets." 
 
 " What !" returned Andy, " no sheets," 
 
 " Divil a sheet." 
 
 " Oh, mother, mother," exclaimed Andy, " what would you say to 
 your innocent child being tuk away to a place there was no sheets." 
 
 " Well ! I never heerd the like," says Bridget. 
 
 " Oh, the villians ! to bring me where I wouldn't have a bit o' clane 
 linen to lie in." 
 
 " Sure, there's blankets, I tell you." 
 
 " Oh, don't talk to me!" roared Andy, "sure, you know, sheets is 
 only dacent" 
 
 " Bother, girl ! isn't a snug woolly blanket a fine thing?" 
 
 " Oh, don't brake my heart that-a-way," sobbed Andy, " sure, there's 
 wool on any dirty sheep's back, but linen is dacency ! — Oh, mother, 
 mother, if you thought your poor girl was without a sheet this night !" 
 
 And so Andy went on, spinning his bit of " linen manufacture " as 
 long as he could, and raising Bridget's wonder, that instead of the 
 
304 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 lament which abducted ladies generally raise about their " vartue," that 
 this young woman's principal complaint arose on the scarcity of flax. 
 Bridget appealed to common sense if blankets were not good enough in 
 these bad times ; insisting moreover, that, as "love was warmer than 
 friendship, so wool was warmer than flax," the beauty of which prallel 
 case nevertheless failed to reconcile the disconsolate abducted. Now 
 Andy had pushed his plea of the want of linen as far as he thought it 
 would go, and when Bridget returned to the charge, and reiterated the 
 oft-repeated " Come to bed, I tell you," Andy had recourse to twiddling 
 about his toes, and chattering his teeth, and exclaimed in a tremulous 
 voice, " Oh, I've a thrimblin' all over me !" 
 
 "Loosen the sthrings o'you, then," said Bridget, about to suit the 
 action to the word. 
 
 " Ow! ow!" cried Andy, " don't touch me — I'm ticklish." 
 
 " Then open the throat o' your gown yourself, dear," said Bridget. 
 
 " I've a cowld on my chest, and dar'n't," said Andy, " but I think a 
 dhrop of hot punch would do me good, if I had it." 
 
 "And plenty of it," said Bridget, "if that'll plaze you :" she rose as 
 she spoke, and set about getting ' the materials ' for making punch. 
 
 Andy hoped, by means of this last idea, to drink Bridget into a state 
 of unconsciousness, and then make his escape ; but he had no notion 
 until he tried, what a capacity the gentle Bridget had for carrying 
 tumblers of punch steadily ; he proceeded as cunningly as possible, and 
 on the score of " the thrimblin' over him," repeated the doses of punch, 
 which, nevertheless, he protested he couldn't touch, unless Bridget kept 
 him in countenance, glass for glass ; and Bridget — genial soul — was no 
 way loth ; for living in a still, and among smugglers, as she did, it was 
 not a trifle of stingo could bring her to a halt. Andy, even with the 
 advantage of the stronger organization of a man, found this mountain 
 lass nearly a match for him ; and before the potations operated as he hoped 
 upon her, his own senses began to feel the influence of the liquor, 
 and his caution became considerably undermined. 
 
 Still, however, he resisted the repeated offers of the couch proposed 
 to him, declaring he would sleep in his clothes, and leave to Bridget 
 the full possession of her lair. 
 
 The fire began to burn low, and Andy thought he might facilitate his 
 escape by counterfeiting sleep ; so feigning slumber, as well as he 
 could, he seemed to sink into insensibility, and Bridget unrobed herself, 
 and retired behind a rough screen. 
 
 It was by a great effort that Andy kept himself awake, for his 
 potation, added to his nocturnal excursion, tended towards somnolency ; 
 but the desire of escape, and fear of a discovery and its consequences, 
 prevailed over the ordinary tendency of nature, and he remained 
 awake, watching every sound. The silence at last became painful, — so 
 still was it, that he could hear the small crumbling sound of the dying 
 embers as they decomposed and shifted their position on the hearth, and 
 yet he could not be satisfied from the breathing of the woman that she 
 slept. After the lapse of half an hour, however, he ventured to make 
 some movement. He had well observed the quarter in which the outlet 
 from the cave lay, and there was still a faint glimmer from the fire to 
 
HANDY ANDY. 305 
 
 assist him in crawling towards the trap. It was a relief when after 
 some minutes of cautious creeping, he felt the fresh air breathing from 
 above, and a moment or two more brought him in contact with the ladder. 
 With the stealth of a cat he began to climb the rungs — he could hear 
 the men snoring on the outside of the cave : step by step as he arose 
 he felt his heart beat faster at the thought of escape, and became more 
 cautious. At length his head emerged from the cave, and he saw the 
 men lying about its mouth ; they lay close around it — he must step 
 over them to escape — the chance is fearful, but he determines to 
 attempt it — he ascends still higher — his foot is on the last rung of the 
 ladder — the next step puts him on the heather — when he feels a hand 
 lay hold of him from below ! 
 
 His heart died within him at the touch, and he could not resist an 
 exclamation. 
 
 " Who's that !" exclaimed one of the men outside. 
 
 Andy crouched. 
 
 " Come down," said the voice softly from below, " if Jack wakes, it 
 will be worse for you." 
 
 It was the voice of Bridget, and Andy felt it was better to be with 
 her than exposed to the savagery of Shan More and his myrmidons ; so 
 he descended quietly, and gave himself up to the tight hold of Bridget, 
 who with many asseverations that " out of her arms she would not let 
 the prisoner go till morning," led him back to the cave. 
 
306 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIX. 
 
 " Groat wit to madness nearly is allied, 
 And thin partitions do the bounds divide." 
 
 So sings the poet : but whether the wit be great or little, the " thin 
 partition " separating madness from sanity is equally mysterious. It is 
 true that the excitability attendant upon genius approximates so closely 
 to madness, that it is sometimes difficult to distinguish between them ; 
 but without the attendant " genius " to hold up the train of madness, 
 and call for our special permission and respect in any of its fantastic 
 excursions, the most ordinary crack-brain sometimes chooses to sport in 
 the regions of sanity, and, without the license which genius is supposed 
 to dispense to her children, poach over the preserves of common sense. 
 This is a well known fact, and would not be reiterated here, but that 
 the circumstances about to be recorded hereafter might seem unworthy 
 of belief; and as the veracity of our history we would not have for one 
 moment questioned, we have ventured to jog the memory of our readers 
 as to the close neighbourhood which madness and common sense inhabit, 
 before we record a curious instance of intermitting madness in the old 
 dowager O'Grady. 
 
 Her son's death had, by the violence of the shock, dragged her from 
 the region of fiction in which she habitually existed ; but, after the 
 funeral, she relapsed into all her strange aberration, and her bird-clock 
 and her chimney-pot head-dress were once more in requisition. 
 
 The old lady had her usual attendance horn her granddaughter, and 
 the customary offering of flowers was rendered, but they were not so 
 cared for as before, and Charlotte was dismissed sooner than usual from 
 her morning's attendance, and a new favourite received in her place. 
 And, "of all the birds in the air," who should this favourite be but 
 Master Ratty. Yes ! — Ratty — the caricaturist of his grandmama, was, 
 "for the nonce," her closeted companion. Many a guess was given as to 
 " what in the world " grandmama could want with Ratty ; but the secret 
 was kept between them, for this reason, that the old lady kept the reward 
 she promised Ratty, for preserving it, in her own hands, until the duty 
 she required on his part should be accomplished ; and the shilling a day 
 to which Ratty looked forward kept him faithful. 
 
 Now the duty Master Ratty had to perform was instructing his 
 grandmama how to handle a pistol ; the bringing up quick to the mark, 
 and levelling by " the sight," was explained, but a difficulty arose in 
 the old lady's shutting her left eye, which Ratty declared to be indis- 
 pensable, and for some time Ratty was obliged to stand on a chair and 
 
HANDY ANDY. 307 
 
 cover his grandmama's eye with his hand while she took aim ; this 
 was found inconvenient, however, and the old lady substituted a black 
 silk shade, to obfuscate her sinister luminary in her exercises, which now 
 advanced to snapping the lock, and knocking sparks from the flint, 
 which made the old lady wink with her right eye. When this second 
 habit was overcome, the "dry" practice, that is, without powder, was 
 given up, and a "flash in the pan" was ventured upon, but this made 
 her shut both eyes together, and it was some time before she could 
 prevail on herself to hold her eye fixed on her mark, and pull the 
 trigger. This, however, at last was accomplished, and when she had 
 conquered the fear of seeing the flash, she adopted the plan of standing 
 before a handsome old-fashioned looking-glass, which reached from the 
 ceiling to the floor, and levelling the pistol at her own reflection before 
 it, as if she were engaged in mortal combat, and every time she snapped 
 and burned priming, she would exclaim, " I hit him that time, I know— 
 I can kill him — tremble, villain .'" 
 
 Now, as long as this pistol practice had the charm of novelty for 
 Ratty, it was all very well ; but when, day by clay, the strange mistakes 
 and nervousness of his grandmama became less piquant, from repetition, 
 it was not such good fun ; and when the rantipole boy, after as much 
 time as he wished to devote to the old woman's caprice, endeavoured to 
 emancipate himself, and was countermanded, an outburst of " Oh, 
 bother J" would take place, till the grandmother called up the pro- 
 spective shillings to his view, and Ratty bowed before the altar of 
 Mammon. But even Mammon failed to keep Ratty loyal ; for that 
 heathen god, Momus, claimed a superior allegiance ; Ratty worshipped 
 the " cap and bells" as the true crown, and "the bauble" as the 
 sovereign sceptre. Besides, the secret became troublesome to him, and 
 he determined to let the whole house know what " gran" and he were 
 about, in a way of his own. 
 
 The young imp, in the next day's practice, worked up the grandmama 
 to a state of great excitement, urging her to take a cool and determined 
 aim at the loOking-glass. 
 
 " Cover him well, gran," said Ratty. 
 
 " I will," said the dowager, resolutely. 
 
 " You ought to be able to hit him at six paces." 
 
 " I stand at twelve paces." 
 
 " No — you are only six from the looking-glass." 
 
 " But the reflection, child, in the mirror, doubles the distance." 
 
 " Bother !" said Ratty. " Here, take the pistol — mind your eye, and 
 don't wink." 
 
 " Ratty, you are singularly obtuse to the charms of science.", 
 
 " What's science ?" said Ratty. 
 
 " Why, gunpowder, child, for instance, is made by science. 
 
 " I never saw his name, then, on a canister," said Ratty. " Pigou, 
 Andrew and Wilks, or Mister Dartford Mills, are the men for gun- 
 powder. — You know nothing about it, gran." 
 
 " Ratty, you are disrespectful, and will not listen to instruction. I 
 knew Kirwan — the great Kirwan, the chemist, who always wore his 
 hat—" 
 
 x 2 
 
308 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 " Then he knew chemistry better than manners," said Ratty. 
 
 " Ratty, you are very troublesome. — I desire you listen, sir. — Kirwan, 
 sir, told me all about science ; and the Dublin Society have his picture, 
 with a bottle in his hand — '' 
 
 " Then he was fond of drink," said Ratty. 
 
 " Ratty, don't be pert. To come back to what I was originally say- 
 ing ; I repeat, sir, I am at twelve paces from my object ; — six from the 
 mirror, which, doubling by reflection, makes twelve ; such is the law of 
 optics. — I suppose you know what optics are ?" 
 
 " To be sure I do." 
 
 " Tell me, then." 
 
 " Our eyes," said Ratty. 
 
 ** Eyes !" exclaimed the old lady, in amaze. 
 
 11 To be sure," answered Ratty, boldly. " Didn't I hear the old 
 blind man at the fair asking charity ' for the loss of his blessed 
 optics ? '" 
 
 " Oh, what lamentable ignorance, my child !" exclaimed the old lady. 
 " Your tutor ought to be ashamed of himself." 
 
 " So he is," said Ratty. " He hasn't had a pair of new breeches for 
 the last seven years ; and he hides himself whenever he sees mama or 
 the girls." 
 
 " Oh, you ignorant child ! Indeed, Ratty, my love, you must study. — 
 I will give you the renowned Kirwan 's book. Charlotte tore some ofit 
 for curl papers ; but there's enough left to enlighten you with the sun's 
 rays, and reflection and refraction — •" 
 
 " I know what that is," said Ratty. 
 
 "What?" 
 
 " Refraction." » 
 
 " And what is it, dear?'' -x 
 
 " Bad behaviour," said Ratty. 
 
 " Oh heavens !" exclaimed his grandmother. 
 
 " Yes it is," said Ratty stoutly; "the tutor says I'm refractory when 
 I behave ill ; and he knows Latin better than you." 
 
 " Ratty, Ratty ! you are hopeless !" exclaimed his grandmama. 
 
 " No, I am not," said Ratty ; " I'm always hoping. And I hope 
 Uncle Robert will break his neck some day, and leave us his money." 
 
 The old woman turned up her eyes, and exclaimed, " You wicked boy !" 
 
 " Fudge !" said Ratty ; " he's an old shaver, and we want it ; and 
 indeed, gran, you ought to give me ten shillings for ten days' teaching, 
 now ; and there's a fair next week, and I want to buy things." 
 
 " Ratty, I told you when you made me perfect in the use of my weapon 
 I would pay you. My promise is sacred, and I will observe it with that 
 scrupulous honour which has ever been the characteristic of the family ; 
 as soon as I hit something, and satisfy myself of my mastery over the 
 weapon, the money shall be yours, but not till then." 
 
 " Oh, very well," said Ratty ; " go on then. — Ready — don't bring up 
 your arm that way, like the handle of a pump, but raise it nice from the 
 elbow — that's it. — Ready — -fire ! Ah ! there you blink your eye, and 
 drop the point of your pistol — try another. Ready — fire! — That's 
 better. — Now steady the next time." 
 

 I •'/,/, ■/ ■ . 
 
 !•■■>' '. mbei 1 teruostar Bow L84.i 
 
HANDY ANDY. 309 
 
 The young devil then put a charge of powder and ball into the pistol 
 he handed his grandmother, who took steady aim at her reflection in 
 the mirror, and at the words, " Ready — -fire !" bang went the pistol — 
 the magnificent glass was smashed — the unexpected recoil of the weapon 
 made it drop from the hand of the dowager, who screamed with 
 astonishment at the report and the shock, and did not see for a moment 
 the mischief she had done ; but when the shattered mirror caught her 
 eye, she made a rush at Ratty, who was screeching with laughter in the 
 far corner of the room, where he ran when he had achieved his trick; 
 and he was so helpless from the excess of his cachinnation, that the old 
 lady cuffed him without his being able to defend himself. At last he con- 
 trived to get out of her clutches, and jammed her against the wall with 
 a table, so tightly that she roared " Murder !" The report of the pistol 
 ringing through the house, brought all its inmates to the spot ; and there 
 the cries of murder from the old lady led them to suppose some awful 
 tragedy, instead of a comedy, was enacting inside ; the door was locked, 
 too, which increased the alarm, and was forced in the moment of terror 
 from the outside. When the crowd rushed in, Master Ratty rushed 
 out, and left the astonished family to gather up the bits of the story as 
 well as they could, from the broken looking-glass and the cracked 
 dowager. 
 
310 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 CHAPTER XL. 
 
 Though it is clear the serious events in the O'Grady family had not 
 altered Master Ratty's propensities in the least, the case was far different 
 with Gustavus. In that one night of suffering which he had passed, 
 the gulf was leaped that divides the boy from the man ; and the extra 
 frivolity and carelessness which clung from boyhood up to the age of 
 fifteen, was at once, by the sudden disrupture produced by events, thrown 
 off, and as singular a ripening into manhood commenced. 
 
 Gustavus was of a generous nature ; and even his faults belonged less 
 to his organization than to the devil-may-care sort of education he 
 received, if education it might be called. Upon his generosity the 
 conduct of Edward O'Connor beside the grave of the boy's father had 
 worked strongly ; and though Gustavus could not give his hand beside 
 the grave to the man with whom his father had engaged in deadly 
 quarrel, yet he quite exonerated Edward from any blame ; and when, 
 after a night more sleepless than Gustavus had ever known, he rose 
 early on the ensuing morning, he determined to ride over to Edward 
 O'Connor's house, and breakfast, and commence that friendship which 
 Edward had so solemnly promised to him, and with which the boy was 
 pleased ; for Gustavus was quite aware in what estimation Edward was 
 held ; and though the relative circumstances in which he and the late 
 Squire stood prevented the boy from " caring a fig" for him, as he often 
 said himself, yet he was not beyond the influence of that thing called 
 " reputation," which so powerfully attaches to, and elevates the man who 
 wins it ; and the price at which Edward was held in the country, influ- 
 enced opinion even in Neck-or-Nothing Hall, albeit though " against 
 the grain." Gustavus had sometimes heard from the lips of the idle 
 and ignorant, Edward sneered at for being "cruel wise" — and " too much 
 of a schoolmaster" — and fit for nothing but books or a boudoir — and 
 called " a piano man," with all the rest of the hacknied " dirt ' r which 
 jealous inferiority loves to fling at the heights it cannot occupy ; for 
 though (as it has been said) Edward, from his manly and sensible bear- 
 ing, had escaped such sneers better than most men, still some few there 
 were to whom his merit was offensive. Gustavus, however, though he 
 sometimes heard such things, saw with his own eyes that Edward could 
 back a horse with any man in the county. He was always foremost in the 
 chase, could bring down as many brace of birds as most men in a day, 
 had saved one or two persons from drowning ; and if he did all these 
 things as well as other men, Gustavus (though hitherto too idle to learn 
 much himself) did not see why a man should be sneered at for being an 
 accomplished scholar as well. Therefore he had good foundation for 
 being pleased at the proffered friendship of such a man } and remem- 
 
HANDY ANDY. 311 
 
 bering the poignancy of Edward's anguish on the foregoing eve, Gustavus 
 generously resolved to see him at once, and offer him the hand which a 
 nice sense of feeling made him withhold the night before. Mounting 
 his pony, an hour's smart riding brought him to Mount Eskar, for such 
 •was the name of Mr. O'Connor's residence. 
 
 It was breakfast-time when Gustavus arrived, but Edward had not 
 yet left his room, and the servant went to call him. It need scarcely be 
 said that Edward had passed a wretched night ; reaching home, as he 
 did, weary in mind and body, and with feelings and imagination both 
 overwrought, it w r as.long before he could sleep; and even then his 
 slumber was disturbed by harassing visions and frightful images. 
 Spectral shapes, and things unimaginable to the waking senses, danced, 
 and crawled, and hissed about him. The torch flared above the grave, 
 and that horrid coffin, with the name of the dead O'Grady upon it, 
 " murdered sleep." It was dawn before anything like refreshing slumber 
 touched his feverish eyelids ; and he had not enjoyed more than a 
 couple of hours of what might be called sleep, when the servant called 
 him ; and then, after the brief oblivion he had obtained, one may fancy 
 how he started when the first words he heard on waking were, t( Mister 
 O'Grady is below, sir." 
 
 Edward started up from his bed and stared wildly on the man, as he 
 exclaimed, with a look of alarm, " O'Grady ! — For God's sake, you don't 
 say O'Grady ?" 
 
 " 'Tis Mister Gustavus, sir," said the man, wondering at the wildness 
 of Edward's maimer. 
 
 " Oh — the boy ! — ay, ay — the boy !" repeated Edward, drawing his 
 hands across his eyes, and recovering his self-possession. " Say I will 
 be down presently." 
 
 The man retired, and Edward laid down again for some minutes to 
 calm the heavy beating of his heart, which the sudden mention of that 
 name had produced ; — that name so linked with the mental agony of the 
 past night ; — that name which had conjured up a waking horror of such 
 might as to shake the sway of reason for a time, and which afterwards 
 pursued its reign of terror through his sleep. After such a night, fancy 
 poor Edward doomed to hear the name of O'Grady again the first thing 
 in the morning — nay, awakened, one may say, by the very sound, and it 
 cannot be wondered at that he was startled. 
 
 A few minutes, however, served to restore his self-possession ; and 
 he arose, and, making his toilet in haste, descended to the breakfast 
 parlour, where he was met by Gustavus with an open hand, which 
 Edward clasped with fervour, and held for some time as he looked on 
 the handsome face of the boy, and saw in its frank expression all that 
 his heart could desire. — They spoke not a word, but they understood 
 one another ; and that moment commenced an attachment which 
 increased with increasing intimacy, and became one of those steadfast 
 friendships which are seldom met with. 
 
 After breakfast Edward brought Gustavus to his " den," as he called 
 a room which was appropriated to his own particular use, occupied with 
 books and a small collection of national relics. Some long ranges of 
 that peculiar calf binding, with its red label, declared at once the 
 
312 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 contents to be law ; and by the dry formal cut of the exterior, gave 
 little invitation to reading. The very outside of a law library is repul- 
 sive ; the continuity of that eternal buff leather gives one a surfeit by 
 anticipation, and makes one mentally exclaim in despair, " Heavens ! — 
 how can any one hope to get all that into his head ?" The only plain honest 
 thing about law, is the outside of the books where it is laid down — there 
 all is simple ; inside all is complex. The interlacing lines of the binder's 
 patterns find no place on the covers ; but intricacies abound inside, where 
 any line is easier found than a straight one. Nor gold leaf nor tool is 
 employed without, but within how many fallacies are enveloped in 
 glozing words ; the gold leaf has its representative in "legal fiction;" 
 and as for " tooling " — there's plenty of that ! 
 
 Other books, also, bore external evidence of the nature of their con- 
 tents. Some old parchment covers indicated the lore of past ages ; 
 amidst these the brightest names of Greece and Rome were to be found, 
 as well as those who have adorned our own literature, and implied a cul- 
 tivated taste on the part of the owner. But one portion of the library 
 was particularly well stored. The works bearing on Irish history were 
 numerous ; and this might well account for the ardour of Edward's 
 feelings in the cause of his country ; for it is as impossible that a 
 river should run backwards to its source, as that any Irishman, of a 
 generous nature, can become acquainted with the real history of his 
 country, and not feel that she has been an ill-used and neglected land, 
 and not struggle in the cause of her being righted. Much has been done 
 in the cause since the days of which this story treats, and Edward was 
 amongst those who helped to achieve it ; but much has still to be done, and 
 there is glorious work in store for present and future Edward O'Connors. 
 Along with the books which spoke the cause of Ireland, the mute 
 evidences, also, of her former glory and civilization were scattered 
 through the room. Various ornaments of elegant form, and wrought in 
 the purest gold, were tastefully arranged over the mantel-piece ; some, 
 from their form, indicating their use, and others only affording matter 
 of ingenious speculation to the antiquary, but all bearing evidence of 
 early civilization. The frontlet of gold indicated noble estate, and the 
 long and tapering bodkin of the same metal, with its richly enchased 
 knob or pendant crescent, implied the robe it once fastened could have 
 been of no mean texture, and the wearer of no mean rank. Weapons 
 were there, too, of elegant form and exquisite workmanship, wrought in 
 that ancient bronze, of such wondrous temper that it carries effective 
 edge and point ; — the sword was of exact Phoenician mould ; the double- 
 eyed spear-head, formed at once for strength and lightness, might have 
 served as the model for a sculptor in arming the hand of Minerva. — Could 
 these be the work of' an uncultivated people ? — Impossible ! — The harp, 
 too, was there, that unfailing mark of polish and social elegance. The bard 
 and barbarism could never be coeval. But beyond all these, was a relic 
 exciting deeper interest — it was an ancient crosier, of curious workman- 
 ship, wrought in the precious metals, and partly studded with jewels ; 
 but few of the latter remained, though the empty collets showed it had 
 onco been costly in such ornaments. — Could this be seen without remem- 
 bering that the light of Christianity first dawned over the western 
 
HANDY ANDY. 313 
 
 isles — in Ireland! that there the gospel was first preached, there the 
 work of salvation begun ! 
 
 There be cold hearts to which these touching recollections do not 
 pertain, and they heed them not ; and some there are, who, with the 
 callousness which forbids the sensibility, possess the stupid effrontery to 
 ask, " Of what use are such recollections ?" With such frigid utilitarians 
 it would be in vain to argue ; but this question, at least, may be put in 
 return : — Why should the ancient glories of Greece and Rome form a 
 large portion of the academic studies of our youth ? — why should the 
 evidences of their arts and their arms be held precious in museums, and 
 similar evidences of ancient cultivation be despised because they pertain 
 to another nation ? Is it because they are Irish they are held in con- 
 tempt ? Alas ! in many cases it is so — ay, and even (shame to say) 
 within her own shores. But never may that day arrive when Ireland 
 shall be without enough of true and fond hearts to cherish the memory 
 of her ancient glories, to give to her future sons the evidences of her 
 earliest western civilization, proving that their forefathers were not, as 
 those say who wronged and therefore would malign them, a rabble of 
 rude barbarians, but that brave kings, and proud princes, and wise 
 lawgivers, and just judges, and gallant chiefs, and chaste and lovely 
 women, were among them, and that inspired bards were there to per- 
 petuate such memories ! 
 
 Gustavus had never before seen a crosier, and asked what it was. On 
 being informed of its name he then said — 
 
 "But what is a crosier ?" 
 
 " A bishop's pastoral staff," said Edward. 
 
 " And why have you a bishop's staff, and swords, and spears, hung 
 up together ?" 
 
 " That is not inappropriate," said Edward. " Unfortunately, the 
 sword and the crosier have been frequently but too intimate companions. 
 Preaching the word of peace has been too often the pretext for war. 
 The Spaniards, for instance, in the name of the gospel, committed the 
 most fearful atrocities." 
 
 " Oh, I know," said Gustavus, " that was in the time of bloody Mary 
 and the Armada." 
 
 Edward wondered at the boy's ignorance, and saw, in an instant, the 
 source of his false application of his allusion to the Spaniards. Gustavus 
 had been taught to vaguely couple the name of " bloody Mary" with 
 every thing bad, and that of " good Queen Bess," with all that was glo- 
 rious ; and the word " Spanish," in poor Gusty 's head, had been 
 hitherto connected with two ideas, namely, " liquorice " and the 
 " Armada." 
 
 Edward, without wounding the sensitive shame of ignorant youth, 
 gently set him right, and made him aware he had alluded to the conduct 
 of the Spaniards in America, under Cortes and Pizarro. 
 
 For the first time in his life Gustavus was aware that Pizarro was a 
 real character. He had heard his grandmama speak of a play of that 
 name, and how great Mr. Kemble was in Holla, and how he saved a 
 child ; but as to its belonging to history, it was a new light — the utmost 
 Gusty knew about America being that it was discovered by Columbus. 
 
314 HANDY AISiJDY. 
 
 " But the crosier," said Edward, "is amongst the most interesting of 
 Irish antiquities, and especially belongs to an Irish collection, when you 
 remember the earliest preaching of Christianity, in the western isles, 
 was in Ireland." 
 
 " I did not know that," said the boy. 
 
 " Then you don't know why the shamrock is our national emblem ?" 
 
 " No," said Gustavus, " though I take care to mount one in my hat 
 every Patrick's day." 
 
 " Well," said Edward, anxious to give Gustavus credit for any know- 
 ledge he possessed, " you know at least it is connected with the memory 
 of St. Patrick, though you don't know why. I will tell you. When 
 St. Patrick first preached the Christian faith in Ireland, before a powerful 
 chief and his people, when he spoke of one God, and of the Trinity, the 
 chief asked how one could be in three. St. Patrick, instead of attempting 
 a theological definition of the faith, thought a simple image would best 
 serve to enlighten a simple people, and stooping to the earth he plucked 
 from the green sod a shamrock, and holding up the trefoil before them, 
 he bid them there behold one in three. The chief, struck by the illus- 
 tration, asked at once to be baptized, and all his sept followed his 
 example." 
 
 " I never heard that before," said Gusty. " 'Tis very beautiful." 
 
 " I will tell j'ou something else connected with it," said Edward. 
 
 •* After baptizing the chief, St. Patrick made an eloquent exhortation 
 to the assembled multitude, and in the course of his address, while 
 enforcing his urgent appeal with appropriate gesture, as the hand which 
 held his crosier, after being raised towards heaven, descended again 
 towards the earth, the point of his staff, armed with metal, was driven 
 through the foot of the chief, who, fancying it was part of the ceremony, 
 and but a necessary testing of the firmness of his faith, never winced." 
 
 " He was a fine fellow," said Gusty. "And is that the crosier?" he 
 added, alluding to the one in Edward's collection, and manifestly excited 
 by what he had heard. 
 
 " No," said Edward, " but one of early date, and belonging to some 
 of the first preachers of the gospel amongst us." 
 
 " And have you other things here with such beautiful stories belong- 
 ing to them ?" inquired Gusty, eager for more of that romantic lore 
 which youth loves so passionately. 
 
 " Not that I know of," answered Edward. " But if these objects here 
 had only tongues ; if every sword, and celt, and spear-head, and golden 
 bodkin, and other trinket could speak, no doubt we should hear stirring 
 stories of gallant warriors and their ladye loves." 
 
 " Ay, that would be something to hear !" exclaimed Gusty. 
 
 " Well," said Edward, " you may have many such stories by reading 
 the history of your country ; which, if } r ou have not read, I can lend 
 you books enough." 
 
 " Oh, thank you!" said Gusty ; " I should like it so much." 
 
 Edward approached the book-shelf, and selected a volume he thought 
 the most likely to interest so little practised a reader ; and when he turned 
 round he saw Gusty poising in his hand an antique Irish sword, of bronze. 
 
 " Do you know what that is ?" inquired Edward. 
 
HANDY ANDY. 315 
 
 " T can't tell you the name of it," answered Gusty, " but I suppose 
 it was something to stick a fellow. 1 ' 
 
 Edward smiled at the characteristic reply, and told him it was an 
 antique Irish sword. 
 
 " A sword !" he exclaimed. " Isn't it short for a sword ?" 
 
 " All the swords of that day were short," said Edward. 
 
 " When was that ?" inquired the boy. 
 
 " Somewhere about two thousand years ago," said Edward. 
 
 " Two thousand years !" exclaimed Gusty, in surprise. " How is it 
 possible you can tell this is two thousand years old V 
 
 " Because it is made of the same metal, and of the same shape, as the 
 swords found at Cannae, where the Cartbaginians fought the Romans." 
 
 " I know the Roman history," said Gusty, eager to display his little 
 bit of knowledge ; " I know the Roman history. Romulus and Remus 
 were educated by a wolf." 
 
 Edward could not resist a smile, which he soon suppressed, and con- 
 tinued, — " Such swords as you now hold in your hand are found in quan- 
 tities in Ireland, and never any where else in Europe, except in Italy, 
 particularly at Cannae, where some thousands of Carthaginians fell ; and 
 when we find the sword of the same make and metal in places so remote, 
 it establishes a strong connecting link between the people of Carthage and 
 of Ireland, and at once shows their date." 
 
 " How curious that is !" exclaimed Gusty ; " and how odd, I never 
 heard it before ! Are there many such curious things you know ?" 
 
 " Many," said Edward. 
 
 " I wonder how people can find out such odd things," said the boy. 
 
 " My dear boy," said Edward, " after getting a certain amount of 
 knowledge, other knowledge comes very fast ; it gathers like a snow- 
 ball, or perhaps it would be better to illustrate the fact by a mill-dam. — 
 You know, when the water is low in the mill-dam, the miller cannot 
 drive his wheel ; but the moment the water comes up to a certain level, 
 it has force to work the mill ; — and so it is with knowledge ; when once 
 you get it up to a certain level, you can ' work your mill,' with this 
 great advantage over the mill-dam, that the stream of knowledge, once 
 reaching the working level, never runs dry." 
 
 " Oh, I wish I knew as much as you do !" exclaimed Gusty. 
 
 "And so you can, if you wish it," said Edward. 
 
 Gusty sighed heavily, and admitted he had been very idle. 
 
 Edward told him he had plenty of time before him to repair the 
 damage. 
 
 A conversation then ensued, perfectly frank on the part of the boy, 
 and kind on Edward's side to all his deficiencies, which he found to be 
 lamentable, as far as learning went. He had some small smattering of 
 Latin ; but Gustavus vowed steady attention to his tutor and his studies 
 for the future. Edward, however, knowing what a miserable scholar 
 the tutor himself was, offered to put Gustavus through his Latin and 
 Greek himself. Gustavus accepted the offer with gratitude, and rode 
 over everyday to Mount Eskarfor his lesson ; and, under the intelligent 
 explanations of Edward, the difficulties which had hitherto discouraged 
 him disappeared, and it was surprising what progress he made. At the 
 
316 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 same time, he devoured Irish history, and became rapidly tinctured 
 with that enthusiastic love of all that belonged to his country which he 
 found in his teacher ; and Edward soon hailed in the ardent neophyte 
 a noble and intelligent spirit, redeemed from ignorance, and rendered 
 capable of higher enjoyments than those to be derived merely from field 
 sports. Edward, however, did not confine his instructions to book- 
 learning only ; there is much to be learned by living with the educated, 
 whose current conversation alone is instructive ; and Edward had Gus- 
 tavus with him as constantly as he could ; and after some time, when the 
 frequency of Gusty's visits to Mount Eskar ceased to excite any wonder 
 at home, he sometimes spent several days together with Edward, to 
 whom he became continually more and more attached. Edward showed 
 great judgment in making his training attractive to his pupil ; he did 
 not attend merely to his head ; he thought of other things as well, and 
 joined him in the sports and exercises he knew, and taught him those 
 in which he was uninstructed. Fencing, for instance, was one of these ; 
 Edward was a tolerable master of his foil, and in a few months Gustavus, 
 under his tuition, could parry a thrust, and make no bad attempt at a 
 hit himself. His improvement, in every way, was so remarkable, that 
 it was noticed by all, and its cause did not long remain secret ; and 
 when it was known, Edward O'Connor's character stood higher than ever, 
 and the whole country said it was a lucky day for Gusty O'Grady that 
 he found such a friend. 
 
 As the limits of our tale would not permit the intercourse between 
 Edward and Gustavus to be treated in detail, this general sketch of it 
 has been given ; and in stating its consequences so far, a peep into the 
 future has been granted by the author, with a benevolence seldom 
 belonging to his ill-natured and crafty tribe, who endeavour to hood- 
 wink their docile patrons as much as possible, and keep them in a state 
 of ignorance as to coming events. But now, having been so indulgent, 
 we must beg to lay hold of the skirts of our readers, and pull them back 
 again down the ladder into the private still, where Bridget pulled back 
 Andy very much after the same fashion, and the results of which we 
 must treat of in our next chapter. 
 
HANDY ANDY. 317 
 
 CHAPTER XLI. 
 
 When Bridget dragged Andy back, and insisted on his going to 
 bed 
 
 No — I will not be too goodnatured, and tell my story that way ; — 
 besides, it would be a very difficult matter to tell it ; and why should 
 an author, merely to oblige people, get himself involved in a labyrinth 
 of difficulties, and rack his unfortunate brain to pick and choose words 
 properly to tell his story, yet at the same time to lead his readers 
 througb the mazes of this very ticklish adventure, without a single thorn 
 scratching their delicate feelings, or as much as making the smallest rent 
 in the white muslin robe of propriety ? So, not to run unnecessary 
 risks, the story must go on another way. 
 
 When Shan More and the rest of the " big blackguards " began to 
 wake, the morning after the abduction, and gave a turn or two under 
 their heather coverlid, and rubbed their eyes as the sun peeped through 
 the " curtains of the east," — for these were the only bed-curtains Shan 
 More and his companions ever had, — they stretched themselves and 
 yawned, and felt very thirsty, for they had all been blind drunk the 
 night before, be it remembered ; and Shan swore, to use his own 
 expressive and poetic imagery, that his tongue was " as rough as a rat's 
 back," while his companions went no farther than saying theirs were as 
 " dry as a lime-burner's wig." 
 
 We should not be so particular in these minute details, but for that 
 desire of truth which has guided us all through this veracious history ; 
 and as in this scene, in particular, we feel ourselves sure to be held 
 seriously responsible for every word, we are determined to be accurate 
 to a nicety, and set down every syllable with stenographic strictness. 
 
 " Where's the girl ?" cried Shan, not yet sober. 
 
 " She's asleep with your sisther," was the answer. 
 
 " Down stairs ?" inquired Shan. 
 
 " Yes," said the other, who now knew Big Jack was more drunk than 
 he at first thought him, by his using the word stairs ; for Jack when he 
 was drunk was very grand, and called down the ladder, " down stairs." 
 
 " Get me a drink o' wather," said Jack, " for I'm thundherin' thirsty, 
 and can't deludher that girl with the soft words, till I wet my mouth." 
 
 His attendant vagabond obeyed the order, and a large pitcher full or 
 water was handed to the master, who heaved it upwards to his head, 
 
318 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 and drank as audibly and nearly as much as a horse. Then holding his 
 hands to receive the remaining contents of the pitcher, which his 
 followers poured into his monstrous palms, he soused his face, which he 
 afterwards wiped in a wisp of grass, which was the only towel of Jack's 
 which was not then at the wash. 
 
 Having thus made his toilet, Big Jack went down stairs, and as soon 
 as his great bull-head disappeared beneath the trap, one of the men 
 above said, " We'll have a shilloo soon, boys." 
 
 And sure enough they did, after some time, hear an extraordinary row. 
 Jack first roared for Bridget, and no answer was returned ; the call was 
 repeated with as little effect, and at last a most tremendous roar was 
 heard above — but not from a female voice. Jack was heard below, swear- 
 ing like a trooper, and in a minute or too, back he rushed " up stairs " 
 again, and began cursing his myrmidons most awfully, and foaming at 
 the mouth with rage. 
 
 " What's the matther ?" cried the men. 
 
 " Matther !" roared Jack; "oh, you 'tarnal villians ! — You're a 
 purty set to carry off a girl for a man — a purty job you've made 
 ofit!"— 
 
 " Arrah, didn't we bring her to you ?" 
 
 " Her, indeed — bring her — much good what you brought is to me !" 
 
 " Tare an 'ouns ! what's the matther at all ? We dunna what you 
 mane !" shouted the men, returning rage for rage. 
 
 " Come down, and you'll see what's the matther," said Jack, descend- 
 ing the ladder ; and the men hastened after him. 
 
 He led the way to the farther end of the cavern, where a small 
 glimmering of light was permitted to enter from the top, and lifting a 
 tattered piece of canvass, which served as a screen to the bed, he 
 exclaimed with a curse, "Look there, you blackguards !" 
 
 The men gave a shout of surprise, for — what do you think they 
 6aw ? 
 
 An empty bed ! 
 
HANDY ANDY. SI 9 
 
 CHAPTER XLII. 
 
 It may be remembered that, on Father Phil's recommendation, Andy 
 was to be removed out of the country, to place him beyond the reach of 
 Larry Hogan's machinations, and that the proposed journey to London 
 afforded a good opportunity of taking him out of the way. Andy had 
 been desired by Squire Egan to repair to Merryvale ; but as some days 
 had elapsed, and Andy had not made his appearance, the alarms of the 
 Squire that Andy might be tampered with, began to revive, and Dick 
 Dawson was therefore requested to call at the Widow Rooney's cabin as 
 he was returning from the town, where some business with Murphy, 
 about the petition against Scatterbrain's return, demanded his presence. 
 
 Dick, as it happened, had no need to call at the widow's, for, on his 
 way to the town, who should he see approaching but the renowned Andy 
 himself. On coming up to him, Dick pulled up his horse, and Andy 
 pulled off his hat. 
 
 " God save your honour," said Andy 
 
 " Why didn't you come to Merryvale, as you were bid ?" said Dick. 
 
 " I couldn't, sir, bekase " — 
 
 " Hold your tongue, you thief; you know you never can do what 
 you're bid — you are always wrong one way or other." 
 
 " You're hard on me, Misther Dick." 
 
 " Did you ever do any thing right ? — T ask yourself!" 
 
 " Indeed, sir, this time it was a rale bit o' business I had to do." 
 
 " And well you did it, no doubt. — Did you marry any one lately ?" 
 said Dick, with a waggish grin, and a wink. 
 
 " Faix, then, maybe I did," said Andy, with a knowing nod. 
 
 " And I hope Matty is well ?" said Dick. 
 
 ''Ah, Misther Dick, you're always goin' on with your jokin, so you 
 are. — So you heerd o' that job, did you ? — faix, a purty lady she is — 
 oh, it's not her at all I am married to, but another woman." — 
 
 " Another woman !" exclaimed Dick, in surprise. 
 
 " Yis, sir, another woman — a kind craythur." 
 
 " Another woman !" reiterated Dick, laughing, " married to two 
 women in two days ! — why you're worse than a Turk !" 
 
 "Ah, Misther Dick!" 
 
 " You Tarquin !" 
 
 " Sure, sir, what harm's in it ?'* 
 
 " You Heliogabalus ! !" 
 
 " Sure, it's no fault o' mine, sir." 
 
 " Bigamy, by this and that, flat bigamy ! — You'll only be hanged, 
 as sure as your name's Andy.'' 
 
820 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 " Sure, let me tell you how it was, sir, and you'll see I am quit of all 
 harm, good or bad. — 'Twas a pack o' blackguards, you see, came to 
 take off Oonah, sir." — 
 
 " Oh, a case of abduction !" 
 
 " Yis, sir ; — so the women dhressed me up as a girl, and the black- 
 guards, instead of the seduction of Oonah, only seduced me." 
 
 " Capital !" cried Dick ; " well done, Andy ! — and who seduced you ?* 
 
 " Shan More, faith — no less." 
 
 " Ho, ho ! a dangerous customer to play tricks on, Andy." 
 
 " Sure enough, faith, and that's partly the rayson of what happened ; 
 but by good luck, Big Jack was blind dhrunk when I got there, 
 and I shammed screechin' so well, that his sisther took pity on me, and 
 said she'd keep me safe from harm in her own bed that night." 
 
 Dick gave " a view halloo," when he heard this, and shouted with 
 laughter, delighted at the thought of Shan More, instead of carrying off 
 a gkl for himself, introducing a gallant to his own sister. 
 
 " Oh, now I see how you are married," said Dick ; " that was the 
 biter bit, indeed." 
 
 " Oh, the divil a bit I'd ha' bit her, only for the cross luck with me, 
 for I wanted to schame off out o' the place, and escape ; but she 
 wouldn't let me, and cotch me and brought me back." — 
 
 " I should think she would indeed," said Dick, laughing. " What 
 next ?" 
 
 " Why I drank a power o* punch, sir, and was off my guard, you see, 
 and couldn't keep the saycret so well afther that, and by dad she found 
 it out." — 
 
 " Just what I would expect of her," said Dick. 
 
 " Well, do you know, sir, though the thrick was agen her own brother, 
 she laughed at it a power, and said I was a great divil, but that she 
 couldn't blame me. So then I sthruv to coax her to let me make my 
 escape, but she towld me to wait a bit till the men above was faster 
 asleep ; but while I was waitin' for them to go to sleep, faix, I went to 
 sleep myself, I was so tired ; and when Bridget, the craythur, woke me 
 in the morning, she was cryin' like a spout afther a thundher shower, 
 and said her characther would be ruined when the story got abroad over 
 the counthry, and sure she darn't face the world, if I wouldn't make her 
 an honest woman." 
 
 " The brazen baggage !" said Dick ; " and what did you say ?" 
 
 " Why what could any man say, sir, afther that. Sure, her karacther 
 would be gone if " 
 
 " Gone," said Dick " faith it might have gone farther before it fared 
 worse." — 
 
 " Arrah ! what do you mane, Misther Dick 1" 
 
 " Pooh, pooh ! Andy — you don't mean to say you married that one ?" 
 
 " Faix, I did," said Andy. 
 
 "Well, Andy," said Dick, grinning, "by the powers, you have done 
 it this time ! — good morning to you ;" and Dick put spurs to his horse. 
 
HANDY ANDY. 321 
 
 CHAPTER XLIII. 
 
 Andy, " knocked all of a heap," stood in the middle of the road, 
 looking after Dick as he cantered down the slope. It was seldom poor 
 Andy was angry — but he felt a strong sense of indignation choking him 
 as Dick's parting words still rung in his ears. " What does he mane ? " 
 said Andy, talking aloud; — "What does he mane?" he repeated; 
 anxious to doubt, and therefore question the obvious construction 
 which Dick's words bore. " Misther Dick is fond of a joke, and maybe 
 this is one of his making, but if it is, 'tis not a fair one, 'pon my sowl : 
 a poor man has his feelins as well as a rich man. — How would you like 
 your own wife to be spoke of that way, Misther Dick, as proud as you 
 ride your horse there — humph ?" 
 
 Andy, in great indignation, pursued his way towards his mother's 
 cabin, to ask her blessing upon his marriage. On his presenting himself 
 there, both the old woman and Oonah were in great delight at witness- 
 ing his safe return. Oonah particularly, for she, feeling that it was 
 for her sake Andy placed himself in danger, had been in a state 
 of great anxiety for the result of the adventure, and on seeing 
 him, absolutely threw herself into his arms, and embraced him tenderly, 
 impressing many a hearty kiss upon his lips, between whiles that she 
 vowed she would never forget his generosity and courage ; and ending 
 with saying there was nothing she would not do for him. 
 
 Now Andy was flesh and blood, like other people, and as the showers 
 of kisses from Oonah's ripe lips fell fast upon him, he was not insen- 
 sible to the embrace of so very pretty a girl — a girl, moreover, he had 
 always had a "sneaking kindness" for, which Oonah's distance of 
 manner alone had hitherto made him keep to himself ; but now, when 
 he saw her eyes beam gratitude, and her cheek flush, after her strong 
 demonstration of regard, and heard her last words, so very like a hint 
 to a shy man, it must be owned a sudden pang shot through poor Andy's 
 heart, and he sickened at the thought of being married, which placed 
 the tempting prize before him hopelessly beyond his reach. 
 
 He looked so blank, and seemed so unable to return Oonah's fond 
 greeting, that she felt the pique which every pretty woman experiences 
 who fancies her favours disregarded, and thought Andy was the 
 stupidest lout she ever came across. Turning up her hair, which had 
 fallen down in the excess of her friendship, she walked out of the cot- 
 tage, and, biting her disdainful lip, fairly cried for spite. 
 
 In the meantime Andy popped down on his knees before the widow, 
 and said, " Give me your blessing, mother!" 
 
 Y 
 
322 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 " For what, you omadhawn ?" said his mother fiercely, for her woman's 
 nature took part with Oonah's feelings, which she quite comprehended, 
 and she was vexed with what she thought Andy's disgusting insensibility. 
 " For what should I give you my blessin' ?" 
 
 " Bekase I'm marri'd, ma'am." 
 
 " What !" exclaimed the mother. " It's not marri'd again you are ? 
 — You're jokin', sure." 
 
 " Faix, it's no joke," said Andy, sadly ; " I'm marri'd, sure enough ; 
 so give us your blessin' any how," cried he, still kneeling. 
 
 " And who did you dar for to marry, sir, if I may make so bowld to 
 ax, without my lave or license ?" 
 
 " There was no time for axin', mother, — 'twas done in a hurry, and 
 I can't help it, so give us your blessin' at oncet." 
 
 " Tell me who she is, before I give you my blessin'." 
 
 " Shan More's sisther, ma'am." 
 
 " What!" exclaimed the widow, staggering back some paces, — " Shan 
 More's sisther, did you say ? — Bridget rhua* is it?" 
 
 " Yis, ma'am." 
 
 " Oh, wirrasthru ! — phillilew ! — millia murther !" shouted the mother, 
 tearing her cap off her head, — " Oh, blessed Vargin, holy St. Dominick, 
 Pether an' Paul the 'possle, what'll I do ? — Oh, patther an' ave — you 
 dirty bosthoon — blessed angels and holy marthyrs ! — kneelin' there in 
 the middle o' the flure as if nothing happened, — look down on me this 
 day, a poor vartuous dissolute woman ! — Oh, you disgrace to me and 
 all belongin' to you, — and is it the impidence to ask for my blessin' you 
 have, when it's whippin' at the cart's tail you ought to get, you shame- 
 less scapegrace !" 
 
 She then went wringing her hands, and throwing them upwards in 
 appeals to Heaven, while Andy still kept kneeling in the middle of the 
 cabin, lost in wonder. 
 
 The widow ran to the door, and called Oonah in. 
 
 " Who do you think that blackguard is marri'd to ?" said the widow. 
 
 " Married !" exclaimed Oonah, growing pale. 
 
 " Ay, marri'd, and who to, do you think ? — why, to Bridget rhua." 
 
 Oonah screamed, and clasped her hands. 
 
 Andy got up at last, and asked what they were making such a rout 
 about ; he wasn't the first man who married without asking his mother's 
 leave ; and wanted to know what they had to " say agen it." 
 
 " Oh, you barefaced scandal o' the world !" cried the widow, " to ax 
 sitch a question, — to marry a thrampin' sthreel like that, — a great red- 
 headed Jack " 
 
 " She can't help her hair," said Andy. 
 
 " I wish I could cut it off, and her head along with it, the stnrap ! — ■ 
 Oh, blessed Vargin, to have my daughter-in-law a " 
 
 " What?" said Andy, getting rather alarmed. 
 
 " That the whole county knows is " 
 
 " What ?" cried Andy. 
 
 " Not a fair nor a market-town doesn't know her as well as — Oh, 
 wirra ! wirra !" 
 
 ■* Red-haired Bridget. 
 
HANDY ANDY. 323 
 
 " Why, you don't mane to say anything agen her charakther, do 
 you ?" said Andy. 
 
 " Charakther, indeed !" said his mother, with a sneer. 
 
 " By this an' that," said Andy, " if she was the child unborn she 
 couldn't make a greater hullabaloo about her charakther than she did 
 the mornin' afther." 
 
 " Afther what 1" said his mother. 
 
 " Afther I was tuk away up to the hill beyant, and found her there, 
 and but I b'lieve I didn't tell you how it happened." 
 
 " No," said Oonah, coming forward, deadly pale, and listening 
 anxiously, with a look of deep pity in her soft eyes. 
 
 Andy then related his adventure as the reader already knows it ; and 
 when it was ended, Oonah burst into tears, and in passionate exclamations 
 blamed herself for all that had happened, saying it was in the endeavour 
 to save her that Andy had lost himself. 
 
 " Oh, Oonah ! Oonah !" said Andy, with more meaning in his voice 
 than the girl had ever heard before, " it isn't the loss of myself I mind, 
 but I've lost you too. Oh, if you had ever given me a tendher word or 
 look before this day, 'twould never have happened, and that desaiver in 
 the hills never could have deludhered me. And tell me, lanna machree, 
 is my suspicions right in what I hear, — tell me the worst at oncet, — is 
 she non compos ?" 
 
 " Oh, I never heerd her called by that name before," sobbed Oonah, 
 " but she has a great many others just as bad." 
 
 " Ow ! ow ! ow !" exclaimed Andy. " Now I know what Mr. Dick 
 laughed at, — well, death before dishonour, — I'll go 'list for a sojer, and 
 never live with her." 
 
824 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 CHAPTER XLTV. 
 
 It has been necessary in an earlier chapter to notice the strange 
 freaks madness will sometimes play. It was then the object to show 
 how strong affections of the mind will recall an erring judgment to its 
 true balance; but the action of the counterpoise growing weaker by 
 time, the disease returns, and reason again kicks the beam. — Such 
 was the old dowager's case : the death of her son recalled her to her- 
 self ; but a few days produced relapse, and she was as foolish as ever. 
 Nevertheless, as Polonius remarks of Hamlet, 
 
 "There is method in his madness," 
 
 so in the dowager's case there was method — not of a sane intention, 
 as the old courtier implies of the Danish prince, but of «'rasane birth — 
 begot of a chivalrous feeling on an enfeebled mind. 
 
 To make this clearly understood, it is necessary to call 
 attention to one other peculiarity of madness ; — that, while it makes 
 those under its influence liable to say and enact all soits of nonsense 
 on some subjects, it never impairs their powers of observation on 
 those which chance to come within the reach of the undiseased portion 
 of the mind ; and moreover, they are quite as capable of arriving at 
 just conclusions upon what they so see and hear as the most reasonable 
 person, and, perhaps, in proportion as the reasoning power is limited 
 within a smaller compass, so the capability of observation becomes 
 stronger by being concentrated. 
 
 Such was the case with the old dowager, who, while Furlong was 
 " doing devotion" to Augusta, and appeared the pink of .faithful 
 swains, saw very clearly that Furlong did not like it a bit, and would 
 gladly be off his bargain. Yea, while the people in their sober senses 
 on the same plane with the parties were taken in, the old lunatic, even 
 from the toppling height of her own mad chimney-pot, could look down 
 and see that Furlong would not marry Augusta if he could help it. 
 
 It was even so. — Furlong had acted under the influence of terror 
 when poor Augusta, shoved into his bed-room through the devilment 
 of that rascally imp Ratty, and found there, through the evil destiny 
 of Andy, was flung into his arms by her enraged father, and accepted 
 as his wife. The immediate hurry of the election had delayed the 
 marriage — the duel and its consequences further interrupted " the 
 happy event" — and O'Grady's death caused a further postponement. 
 It was delicately hinted to Furlong, that when matters had gone so 
 far as to the wedding-dresses being ready, that the sooner the con- 
 tracting parties under such circumstances were married, the better. 
 
HANDY ANDY. 325 
 
 But Furlong, with that affectation of propriety which belongs to his 
 time-serving tribe, pleaded the " regard to appearances," — " so soon 
 after the ever-to-be-deplored event," — and other such specious 
 excuses, which were but covers to his own rascality, and used but to 
 postpone the " wedding-day." The truth was, the moment Furlong 
 had no longer the terrors of O'Grady's pistol before his eyes, he had 
 resolved never to make so bad a match as that with Augusta appeared 
 to be, — indeed, manifestly was, as far as regarded money ; though 
 Furlong should only have been too glad to be permitted to mix 
 his plebeian blood with the daughter of a man of high family, whose 
 crippled circumstances and consequent truckling conduct had reduced 
 him to the wretched necessity of making such a cur as Furlong the 
 inmate of his house. — But so it was. 
 
 The family began at last to suspect the real state of the case, and 
 all were surprised except the old dowager : — she had expected what 
 was coming, and had prepared herself for it. All her pistol practice 
 was with a view to call Furlong to the " last arbitrement" for this 
 slight to her house. Gusty was too young, she considered, for the 
 duty ; therefore, she, in her fantastic way of looking at the matter, 
 looked upon herself as the head of the family, and, as such, determined 
 to resent the affront put upon it. 
 
 But of her real design, the family at Neck-or-Nothing Hall had not 
 the remotest notion. Of course, an old lady going about with a 
 pistol, powder-flask, and bullets, and practising on the trunks of the 
 trees in the park, could not pass without observation, and surmises 
 there were on the subject ; then her occasional exclamation of 
 " tremble, villain!" would escape her; and sometimes in the family 
 circle, after sitting for a while in a state of abstraction, she would lift 
 her attenuated hand, armed with a knitting-needle or a ball of 
 worsted, and, assuming the action of poising a pistol, execute a smart 
 click with her tongue, and say, " I hit him that time." 
 
 These exclamations, indicative of vengeance, were supposed at 
 length by the family to apply to Edward O'Connor, but excited pity 
 rather than alarm. When, however, one morning, the dowager was 
 nowhere to be found, and Ratty and the pistols had also disappeared 
 an inquiry was instituted as to the old lady's whereabouts, and Mount 
 Eskar was one of the first places where she was sought, but without 
 success ; and all other inquiries were equally unavailing. 
 
 The old lady had contrived, wuth that cunning peculiar to insane 
 people, to get away from the house at an early hour in the morning, 
 unknown to all except Ratty, to whom she confided lier intention, and 
 he managed to get her out of the domain unobserved, and thence 
 together they proceeded to Dublin in a post-chaise. 
 
 It was the day after this secret expedition was undertaken, that 
 Mr. Furlong was sitting in his private apartment at the castle, doing 
 " the state some service," by reading the morning papers, which 
 heavy official duty he relieved occasionally by turning to some 
 scented notes which lay near a morocco writing-case, whence they had 
 been drawn by the lisping dandy to natter his vanity. He had been 
 carrying on a correspondence with an anonymous fair one, in whose 
 
326 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 heart, if her words might be believed, Furlong had made desperate 
 navoc. 
 
 It happened, however, that these notes were all fictitious, being the 
 work of Tom Loftus, who enjoyed playing on a puppy as much as 
 playing on the organ ; and he had the satisfaction of seeing Furlong 
 going through his paces in certain squares he had appointed, wearing 
 a flower of Tom's choice, and going through other antics which Tom 
 had demanded under the signature of " Phillis," written in a delicate 
 hand, on pink satin note-paper, with a lace border : one of the last 
 notes suggested the possibility of a visit from the lady, and after 
 assurances of " secrecy and honour" had been returned by Furlong, he 
 was anxiously expecting " what would come of it," and, filled with 
 pleasing reflections of what " a devil of a fellow " he was among the 
 ladies, he occasionally paced the room before a handsome dressing- 
 glass, (with which his apartment was always furnished,) and ran his 
 fingers through his curls with a complacent smile. While thus 
 occupied, and in such a frame of mind, the hall messenger entered 
 the apartment, and said a lady wished to see him. 
 
 " A lady ! " exclaimed Furlong, in delighted surprise. 
 
 " She won't give her name, sir, but — " 
 
 " Show her up ! show her up !" exclaimed the Lothario, eagerly. 
 
 All anxiety, he awaited the appearance of his donna, — and quite a 
 donna she seemed, as a commanding figure, dressed in black, and 
 enveloped in a rich veil of the same, glided into the room. 
 
 " How vewy Spanish ! " exclaimed Furlong, as he advanced to meet 
 his incognita, who, as soon as she entered, locked the door, and 
 withdrew the key. 
 
 " Quite pwactised in such secwet affairs," said Furlong, slily. 
 " Fai' lady, allow me to touch you' fai' hand, and lead you to 
 a seat." 
 
 The mysterious stranger made no answer, but lifting her long veil, 
 turned round on the lisping dandy, who staggered back to the table, on 
 which he leaned for support, when the dowager O'Grady appeared 
 before him, drawn up to her full height, and anything but an agreeable 
 expression in her eye. She stalked up towards him, something in the 
 style of a spectre in a romance, which she was not very unlike, and 
 as she advanced, he retreated, until he got the table between him and 
 this most unwelcome apparition. 
 
 ,; I am come," said the dowager, with an ominous tone of voice. 
 
 " Vewy happy of the honou', I am sure, Mistwess O'Gwady," faltered 
 Furlong. 
 
 " The avenger has come." 
 
 Furlong opened his eyes. 
 
 " I have come to wash the stain ! " said she, tapping her fingers in 
 a theatrical manner on the table, and, as it happened, she pointed to 
 a large blotch of ink on the table-cover. Furlong opened his eyes 
 wider than ever, and thought this the queerest bit of madness he ever 
 heard of; however, thinking it best to humour her, he answered, 
 " Yes, it was a little awkwa'dness of mine — I upset the inkstand the 
 othe' day." 
 
• ;■;, . ■ 
 
 
 e C.I airil er i I ' aosrterjlow 184'2. 
 
HANDY ANDY. 327 
 
 " Do you mock me, sir ?" said she, with increasing bitterness. 
 
 " La, no ! Mistwess O'Gwady." 
 
 " I have come, I say, to wash out the stain you have dared to put 
 on the name of O'Grady, i'n your blood." 
 
 Furlong gasped with mingled amazement and fear. 
 
 " Tremble, villain ! " she said ; and she pointed toward him her 
 long attenuated finger with portentous solemnity. 
 
 " I weally am quite at a loss, Mistwess O'Gwady, to compwehend — " 
 
 Before he could finish his sentence, the dowager had drawn from 
 the depths of her side pockets a brace of pistols, and presenting them to 
 Furlong, said, " Be at a loss no longer — except the loss of life which 
 may ensue ; — take your choice of weapons, sir." 
 
 " Gwacious Heaven ! " exclaimed Furlong, trembling from head to 
 foot. 
 
 " You won't choose, then ?" said the dowager. '• Well, there's one for 
 you ;" — and she laid a pistol before him with as courteous a manner as 
 if she were making him a birthday present. 
 
 Furlong stared down upon it with a look of horror. 
 
 " Now we must toss for choice of ground," said the dowager. 
 " I have no money about me, for I paid my last half-crown to the 
 post-boy, but this will do as well for a toss as anything else ;" — and 
 she laid her hands on the dressing- glass as she spoke. " Now the 
 call shall be ■ safe ' or ' smash ;' whoever calls ' safe/ if the glass 
 comes down unbroken, has the choice, and vice versa. I call first — 
 ' Smash,'" said the dowager, as she flung up the dressing- glass, which 
 fell in shivers on the floor. " I have won," said she; " oblige me, sir, 
 by standing in that far corner. 1 have the light in my back, — and 
 you will have something else in yours before long ; — take your 
 ground, sir." 
 
 Furlong, finding himself thus cooped up with a mad woman, in an 
 agony of terror suddenly bethought him of instances he had heard 
 of escape, under similar circumstances, by coinciding to a certain 
 extent with the views of the insane people, and suggested to the 
 dowager, that he hoped she would not insist on a duel without 
 their having " a friend" present. 
 
 " I beg your pardon, sir," said the old lady; " I quite forgot that 
 form, in the excitement of the moment, though I have not overlooked 
 the necessity altogether, and have come provided with one." 
 
 " Allow me to wing for him," said Furlong, rushing to the bell. 
 
 " Stop ! " exclaimed the dowager, levelling her pistol at the bell- 
 pull ; " touch it, and you are a dead man." 
 
 Furlong stood rivetted to the spot where his rush had been 
 arrested. 
 
 " No interruption, sir, till this little affair is settled. — Here is my 
 friend," she added, putting her hand into her pocket and pulling out 
 the wooden cuckoo of her clock; — " my little bird, sir, will see all fair 
 between us ;" — and she perched the painted wooden thing, with a bit 
 of feather grotesquely sticking up out of its nether end, on the 
 morocco letter-case. 
 
 " Oh Lord ! " said Furlong. 
 
328 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 "He's a gentleman of the nicest honour, sir;" said the dowager, 
 pacing hack to the window. 
 
 Furlong took advantage of the opportunity of her back being turned, 
 and rushed at the bell, which he pulled with great fury. 
 
 The dowager wheeled round with haste, "So you have rung," said 
 she, " but it shall not avail you, — the door is locked ; take your 
 weapon, sir — quick ! — what ! — a coward ! " 
 
 " Weally, Mistwess O'Gwady, I cannot think of deadly a'bitwetment 
 with a lady." 
 
 " Less would you like it with a man, poltron ! " said she, with an 
 exaggerated expression of contempt in her manner. " However," she 
 added, " if you are a coward, you shall have a coward's punishment." — 
 She went to a corner where stood a great variety of very handsome 
 canes, and laying hold of one, began soundly to thrash Furlong, who 
 feared to make any resistance, or attempt to disarm her of the cane, 
 for the pistol was yet in her other hand. 
 
 The bell was answered by the servant, who, on finding the door 
 locked, and hearing the row inside, began to knock and inquire loudly 
 what was the matter. The question was more loudly answered by 
 Furlong, who roared out, "Bweak the door! bweak the door!" 
 interlarding his directions with cries of " mu'der ! " 
 
 The door at length was forced, Furlong rescued, and the old lady 
 separated from him. She became perfectly calm the moment other 
 persons appeared, and was replacing the pistols in her pocket, when 
 Furlong requested the " dweadf'ul weapons" might be seized. The 
 old lady gave up the pistols very quietly, but laid hold of her bird and 
 put it back into her pocket. 
 
 " This is a dweadful violation !" said Furlong, " and my life is not 
 safe unless she is bound ove' to keep the peace." 
 
 " Pooh ! pooh ! " said one of the gentlemen from the adjacent 
 office, who came to the scene on hearing the uproar, " binding over 
 an old lady to keep the peace — nonsense ! " 
 
 " I insist upon it," said Furlong, with that stubbornness for which 
 fools are so remarkable. 
 
 " Oh — very well ! " said the sensible gentleman, who left the room. 
 
 A party, pursuant to Furlong's determination, proceeded to the 
 head police-office, close by the Castle, and a large mob gathered as 
 they went down Cork-hill, and followed them to Exchange- court, 
 where they crowded before them in front of the office, so that it was 
 with difficulty the principals could make their way through the dense 
 mass. 
 
 At length, however, they entered the office ; and when Major Sin 
 heard any gentleman attached to the Government wanted his assist- 
 ance, of course he put any other case aside, and had the accuser and 
 accused called up before him. 
 
 Furlong made his charge of assault and battery, with intent to 
 murder, &c. &c. 
 
 " Some mad old rebel, I suppose," said Major Sin. — " Do you 
 remember '98, ma'am?" said the major. 
 
HANDY ANDY. 329 
 
 " Indeed, I do, sir. — and I remember you, too. — Major Sin I have 
 the honour to address, if I don't mistake." 
 
 " Yes, ma'am. — What then ? " 
 
 " I remember well in '98, when you were searching for rebels, you 
 thought a man was concealed in a dairy yard, in the neighbourhood of 
 my mother's house, major, in Stephen's Green ; and you thought he 
 was hid in a hay-rick, and ordered your sergeant to ask for the loan of 
 a spit from my mother's kitchen, to probe the haystack." 
 
 '•' Oh ! then, madam, your mother was loyal, I suppose.'' 
 
 " Most loyal, sir." 
 
 " Give the lady a chair," said the major. 
 
 " Thank you s I don't want it — but, major — when you asked for the 
 spit, my mother thought you were going to practice one of your 
 delightfully ingenious bits of punishment, and asked the sergeant 
 Whom you were going to roast ? " 
 
 The major grew livid on the bench where he sat, at this awkward 
 reminiscence of one of his friends, and a dead silence reigned through 
 the crowded office. He recovered himself, however, and addressed 
 Mrs. O'Grady in a mumbling manner, telling her she must give 
 security to keep the peace, herself — and find friends as sureties. On 
 asking her had she any friend to appear for her, she declared she had. 
 
 " A gentleman of the nicest honour, sir," said the dowager, pulling 
 her cuckoo from her pocket, and holding it up in view of the whole 
 office. 
 
 A shout of laughter, of course, followed. The affair became at 
 once understood in its true light ; — a mad old lady — a paltry coward 
 — &c. &c. Those who know the excitability and fun of an Irish mob, 
 will not wonder, that, when the story got circulated from the office to 
 the crowd without, which it did with lightning rapidity, that the old 
 lady, on being placed in a hackney-coach which was sent for, was 
 hailed with a chorus of " Cuckoo ! " by the multitude, one half of 
 which ran after the coach as long as they could keep pace with it, 
 shouting forth the spring-time call, and the other half followed Furlong 
 to the Castle, with hisses and other more articulate demonstrations of 
 their contempt. 
 
330 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 CHAPTER XLV. 
 
 The fat and fair widow Flanagan had, at length, given up shilly 
 shallying, and, yielding to the fervent entreaties of Tom Durfy, had 
 consented to name the happy day. She, however, would have some 
 little ways of her own about it, and instead of being married in the 
 country, insisted on the nuptial knot being tied in Dublin. Thither 
 the widow repaired with her swain to complete the stipulated time of 
 residence within some metropolitan parish, before the wedding could 
 take place. In the meanwhile they enjoyed all the gaiety the capital 
 presented, the time glided swiftly by, and Tom was within a day of 
 being made a happy man, when, as he was hastening to the lodgings of 
 the fair widow, who was waiting with her bonnet and shawl on, to be 
 escorted to the botanical gardens of Glasnevin, he was accosted by an 
 odd-looking person of somewhat sinister aspect. 
 
 " I believe I have the honour of addressing Mister Durfy, sir." 
 
 Tom answered in the affirmative. 
 
 " Thomas Durfy, Esquire, I think, sir?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " This is for you, sir," he said, handing Tom a piece of dirty printed 
 paper, and at the same time laying his hand on Tom's shoulder, and 
 executing a smirking sort of grin, which he meant to be the pattern of 
 politeness, added — " You'll excuse me, sir, but I arrest you under a 
 warrant from the high sheriff of the city of Dublin — always sorry, sir, 
 for a gintleman in defficulties, but it's my duty." 
 
 " You're a bailiff, then?" said Tom. 
 
 " Sir," said the bum, 
 
 ' Honour and shame from no condition rise ; 
 Act well your part — there all the honour lies.' " 
 
 " I meant no offence," said Tom. " I only meant — " 
 
 " I understand, sir — I understand. These little defficulties startles 
 gintlemen at first — you've not been used to arrest, I see, sir." 
 
 " Never in my life did such a thing happen before," said Tom. 
 " I live generally, thank God, where a bailiff daren't show his face." 
 
 " Ah, sir," said the bailiff, with a grin, " them rustic habits betrays 
 the children of nature often when they come to town ; but we are so 
 Jisticated here in the metropolis, that we lay our hands on strangers 
 aisy. But you'd better not stand in the street, sir, or people will under- 
 stand it's an arrest, sir ; and 1 suppose you wouldn't like the exposure. 
 I can simperise in a gintleman's feelings, sir. If you walk aisy on, sir, 
 and don't attempt escape or rescue, I'll keep a gintlemanlike distance." 
 
 Tom walked on in great perplexity for a few steps, not knowing what 
 to do. The hour of his rendezvous had struck —he knew how impatient 
 
HANDY ANDY. 331 
 
 of neglect the widow always was — he at one moment thought of asking 
 the bailiff to allow him to proceed to her lodgings at once, there boldly 
 to avow what had taken place, and ask her to discharge the debt ; but 
 this his pride would not allow him to do. As he came to the corner oi 
 a street, he got a tap on the elbow from the bailiff, who, with a jerking 
 motion of his thumb and a wink, said in a confidential tone to Tom — 
 " Down this street, sir — that's the way to the pres'n (prison)." 
 
 " Prison!" exclaimed Tom, halting involuntarily at the word. 
 
 " Shove on, sir — shove on," hastily repeated the sheriffs-officer, 
 urging his order by a nudge or two on Tom's elbow. 
 
 " Don't shove me, sir !" said Tom rather angrily, " or by G — " 
 
 " Aisy, sir — aisy !" said the bailiff; " though I feel for the deffi- 
 culties of a gintleman, the caption must be made, sir. If you don't like 
 the pres'n, I have a nice little room o' my own, sir, where you can wait, 
 for a small consideration, until you get bail." 
 
 " I'll go there, then," said Tom. " Go through as private streets as 
 you can." 
 
 " Give me half-a-guinea for my trouble, sir, and I'll ambulate you 
 through lanes every fut o' the way." 
 
 " Very well," said Tom." 
 
 They now struck into a shabby street, and thence wended through 
 stable lanes, filthy alleys, up greasy broken steps through one close, and 
 down steps in another — threaded dark passages whose debouchures 
 were blocked up with posts to prevent all vehicular conveyance, the 
 accumulated dirt of years sensible to the tread from its lumpy uneven- 
 ness, and the stagnant air rife with pestilence. Tom felt increasing- 
 disgust at every step he proceeded, but any thing to him appeared 
 better than being seen in the public streets in such company ; for, until 
 they got into these labyrinths of nastiness, Tom thought he saw in the 
 looks of every passer-by, as plainly told as if the words were spoken, 
 " There goes a fellow under the care of the bailiff." In these byways, 
 he had not any objection to speak to his companion, and for the first 
 time asked him what he was arrested for. 
 
 " At the suit of Mr. M'Kail, sir." 
 
 " Oh ! the tailor," said Tom. 
 
 " Yes, sir," said the bailiff. *' And if you would not consider it 
 trifling with the feelings of a gintleman in defficulties, I would make 
 the playful observation, sir, that it's quite in character to be arrested at 
 the suit of a tailor. He! he! he!" 
 
 " You're a wag, I see," said Tom. 
 
 " Oh no, sir — only a poetic turn — a small affection I have certainly 
 for Judy Mot — but my rale passion is the muses. We are not far, 
 now, sir, from my little bower of repose — which is the name I give my 
 humble abode — small, but snug, sir. You'll see another gintleman 
 there, sir, before you. He is waitin' for bail these three or four days, 
 sir — can't pay as he ought for the 'commodation, but he's a friend o' 
 mine, I may almost say, sir — a litherary gintleman — them litherary gin- 
 tlemen is always in defficulties, mostly. — I suppose you're a litherarv 
 gintleman, sir- — though you're rather ginteely dhressed for one ?" 
 
 " No," said Tom, " I am not." 
 
332 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 " I thought you wor, sir, by being acquainted with this other gintle- 
 man." 
 
 " An acquaintance of mine !" said Tom, with surprise. 
 
 " Yis, sir. In short, it was through him I found out where you were, 
 sir. I have had the writ agen you for some time, but couldn't make 
 you off, till my friend says I must carry a note for him to you." 
 
 " Where is the note ? " inquired Tom. 
 
 r< Not ready yet, sir. It's po'thry he's writin — something ' pithy,' he 
 said, and ' lame' too. I dunna how a thing could be pithy and lame 
 together, but them potes has hard words at command." 
 
 " Then you came away without the note ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir. As soon as I found out where you were stopping, I ran 
 off directly on Mr. M 'Kail's little business. You'll excuse the liberty, 
 sir ; but we must all mind our professions ; though, indeed, sir, if you 
 b'lieve me, I'd rather nab a rhyme than a gintleman any day ; and if I 
 could get on the press, I'd quit the shoulder-tapping profession." 
 
 Tom cast an eye of wonder on the bailiff, which the latter compre- 
 hended at once ; for, with habitual nimbleness, he could nab a man's 
 thoughts as fast as his person. 
 
 " I know what you're thinking, sir — could one of my profession 
 purshue the muses ? Don't think, sir, I mane I could write the ' laders' 
 or the pollitik'l articles, but the creminal cases, sir — the robberies and 
 offinces — with the watchhouse cases — together with a little po'thry now 
 and then. I think I could be useful, sir, and do better than some of 
 the chaps that pick up their ha'pence that way. — But here's my place, 
 sir, — my little bower of repose." 
 
 He knocked at the door of a small tumble-down house in a filthy lane, 
 the one window it presented in front being barred with iron. Some 
 bolts were drawn inside, and though the man who opened the door was 
 forbidding in his aspect, he did not refuse to let Tom in. The portal 
 was hastily closed and bolted after they had entered. The smell of the 
 house was pestilential — the entry dead dark. 
 
 " Give me your hand, sir," said the bailiff, leading Tom forward. 
 
 They ascended some creaking stairs, and the bailiff, fumbling for 
 some time with a key at a door, unlocked it and shoved it open, and 
 then led in his captive. 
 
 Tom saw a shabby-genteel sort of person, whose back was towards 
 him, directing a letter. 
 
 " Ah, Goggins ! " said the writer, " you're come back in the nick of 
 time. I have finished now, and you may take the letter to Mister 
 Durfy." 
 
 " You may give it to him yourself, sir," replied Goggins ; " for here 
 he is." 
 
 " Indeed!" said the writer, turning round. 
 
 " What !" exclaimed Tom Durfy, in surprise; " James Reddy !" 
 
 " Even so !" said James, with a sentimental air ; 
 
 ' The paths of glory lead but to the grave.' 
 
 Literature is a bad trade, my dear Tom ! — 'tis an ungrateful world — 
 men of the highest aspirations may lie in gaol for all the world cares ; 
 
HANDY ANDY. 333 
 
 not that you come within the pale of the worthless ones ; this is d — d 
 good-natured of you to come to see a friend in trouble. You deserve, 
 my dear Tom, that you should have been uppermost in my thoughts ; 
 for here is a note I have just written to you, enclosing a copy of verses 
 to you on your marriage — in short, it is an epithalamium." 
 
 " That's what I told you, sir,'' said Goggins to Tom. 
 
 " May the divil burn you and your epithalamium !" said Tom Durfy, 
 stamping round the little room. 
 
 James Reddy stared in wonder, and Goggins roared, laughing, " A 
 pretty compliment you've paid me, Mister Reddy, this fine morning," 
 said Tom, " you tell a bailiff where I live, that you may send your 
 d — d verses to me,' and you get me arrested." 
 
 " Oh, murder !" exclaimed James. " I'm very sorry, my dear Tom ; 
 but, at the same time, 'tis a capital incident ! How it would work up 
 in a farce !" 
 
 " How funny it is !" said Tom, in a rage, eyeing James as if he 
 could have eaten him. " Bad luck to all poetry and poetasters ! By 
 the 'tarnal war, I wish every poet, from Homer down, was put into a 
 mortar and pounded to death !" 
 
 James poured forth expressions of sorrow for the mischance ; and 
 extremely ludicrous it was to see one man making apologies for trying 
 to pay his friend a compliment ; his friend swearing at him for ids 
 civility, and the bailiff grinning at them both. 
 
 In this triangular dilemma we leave them for the present. 
 
,334 HANDY ANDY 
 
 CHAPTER XLVI. 
 
 Edward O'Connor, on hearing from Gustavus of the old dowager's 
 disappearance from Neck-or-Nothing Hall, joined in the eager inquiries 
 which were made about her, and his being directed with more method 
 and judgment than those of others, their result was more satisfactory. 
 He soon " took up the trail," to use an Indian phrase ; and he and 
 Gusty were not many hours in posting after the old lady. They 
 arrived in town early in the morning, and lost no time in casting about 
 for information. 
 
 One of the first places Edward inquired at, was the inn where the 
 postcbaises generally drove to from the house where the old dowager 
 had obtained her carriage in the country ; but there no trace was 
 to be had. Next, the principal hotels were referred to, but as yet 
 without success ; when, as they turned into one of the leading streets 
 in continuance of their search, their attention was attracted by a 
 crowd swaying to and fro in that peculiar manner which indicates that 
 there is a fight inside of it. Great excitement prevailed on the verge 
 of the crowd, where exclamations escaped from those who could get a 
 peep at the fight. 
 
 " The little chap has great heart!" cried one. 
 
 " But the sweep is the biggest," said another. 
 
 " Well done, Horish /"* cried a blackguard, who enjoyed the triumph 
 of his fellow. 
 
 " Bravo ! little fellow," rejoined a genteeler person, who rejoiced in 
 some successful hit of the other combatant. 
 
 There is an inherent love in men to see a fight, which Edward 
 O'Connor shared with inferior men ; and if he had not peeped into the 
 ring, most assuredly Gusty would. — What was their astonishment when 
 they got a glimpse of the pugilists, to perceive Ratty was one of 
 them, — his antagonist being a sweep, taller by a head, and no bad hand 
 at " the noble science." 
 
 Edward's first»impulse was to separate them, but Gusty requested he 
 would not, saying that he saw by Ratty's eye he was able to " lick the 
 fellow." Ratty certainly showed great fight ; — what the sweep had in 
 superior size, was equalized by the superior "game" of the gentleman 
 boy, to whom the indomitable courage of a high-blooded race had 
 descended, and who would sooner have died than yield. Besides, 
 Ratty was not deficient in the use of his "bunch of fives," hit hard for 
 his size, and was very agile : the sweep sometimes made a rush, 
 
 * The name of a celebrated sweep in Ireland, whose name is applied to the whole 
 
 tribe. 
 
HANDY ANDY. 335 
 
 grappled, and got a fall ; but he never went in without getting some- 
 thing from Ratty to " remember him," and was not always uppermost. 
 At last, both were so far punished, and the combat not being likely to 
 be speedily ended, (for the sweep was no craven,) that the bystanders 
 interfered, declaring that " they ought to be separated," — and they were. 
 
 While the crowd was dispersing, Edward called a coach ; and 
 before Ratty could comprehend how the affair was managed, he was 
 shoved into it, and driven from the scene of action. Ratty had a 
 confused sense of hearing loud shouts — of being lifted somewhere — of 
 directions given — the rattle of iron steps clinking sharply — two or 
 three fierce bangs of a door that wouldn't shut, and then an awful 
 shaking, which roused him up from the corner of the vehicle into 
 which he had fallen in the first moment of exhaustion. Ratty " shook 
 his feathers," dragged his hair from out of his eyes, which were getting 
 very black indeed, and applied his handkerchief to his nose, which was 
 much in need of that delicate attention ; and when the sense of perfect 
 vision was restored to him, which was not for some time, (all the 
 colours of the rainbow dancing before Ratty's eyes for many seconds 
 after the fight,) what was his surprise to see Edward O'Connor and 
 Gusty sitting on the opposite seat ! 
 
 It was some time before Ratty could quite comprehend his present 
 situation, but as soon as he was made sensible of it, and coidd answer 
 the first questions asked of him were about his grandmother. 
 Ratty fortunately remembered the name of the hotel where she put up, 
 though he had left it as soon as the old lady proceeded to the castle — 
 had lost his way — and got engaged in a quarrel with a sweep in the 
 mean time. 
 
 The coach was ordered to drive to the hotel named ; — and how the 
 fight occurred was the next question. 
 
 " The sweep was passing by, and I called him ' snow-ball,' said 
 Ratty ; " and the blackguard returned an impudent answer, and I 
 hit him." 
 
 " You had no right to call him ' snow-ball,' " said Edward. 
 
 " I always called the sweeps ' snow-ball ' down at the Hall," said 
 Ratty, " and they never answered." 
 
 " When you are on your own territory you may say what you please 
 to your dependants, Ratty, and they dare not answer ; or, to use a 
 vulgar saying, ' A cock may crow on his own dunghill.' " 
 
 " I'm no dunghill cock ! " said Ratty, fiercely. 
 
 " Indeed, you're not," said Edward, laying his hand kindly on the 
 boy's shoulder; — "you have plenty of courage." 
 
 " I'd have lick'd him," said Ratty, " if they'd have let me have two 
 or three rounds more." 
 
 " My dear boy, other things are needful in this world besides courage. 
 Prudence, temper, and forbearance are required ; and this may be a 
 lesson to you, to remember, that when you get abroad in the world, you 
 are very little cared about, however great your consequence may be at 
 home ; and I am sure you cannot be proud about your having got into 
 a quarrel with a sweep." 
 
336 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 Ratty made no answer — his blood began to cool — he became every 
 moment more sensible that he had received heavy blows. His eyes 
 became more swollen, he snuffled more in his speech, and his blackened 
 condition altogether, from gutter, soot, and thrashing, convinced him a 
 fight with a sweep was not an enviable achievement. 
 
 The coach drew up at the hotel. Edward left Gusty to see about the 
 dowager, and made an appointment for Gusty to meet him at their own 
 lodgings in an hour ; while he, in the interim, should call on Dick 
 Dawson, who was in town, on his way to London. 
 
 Edward shook hands with Ratty, and bade him kindly good bye, — 
 " You're a stout fellow, Ratty," said he, "but remember this old say- 
 ing, ' Quarrelsome dogs get dirty coats.' " 
 
 Edward now proceeded to Dick's lodgings, and found him engaged in 
 reading a note from Tom Durfy, dated from the " Bower of Repose," 
 and requesting Dick's aid in his present difficulty. 
 
 " Here's a pretty kettle of fish," said Dick; "Tom Durfy, who is 
 engaged to dine with me to-day, to take leave of his bachelor life, as he 
 is going to be married to-morrow, is arrested and now in quod, and 
 wants me to bail him." 
 
 " The shortest way is to pay the money at once," said Edward ; " is 
 it much?" 
 
 " That I don't know ; but I have not a great deal about me, and 
 what I have I want for my journey to London, and my expenses there, 
 — not but that I'd help Tom, if I could." 
 
 " He must not be allowed to remain there, however we manage to 
 get him out," said Edward ; " perhaps I can help you in the affair." 
 
 " You're always a good fellow, Ned," said Dick, shaking his hand 
 warmly. 
 
 Edward escaped from hearing any praise of himself, by proposing 
 they should repair at once to the sponging-house, and see how matters 
 stood. Dick lamented he should be called away at such a moment, for 
 he was just going to get his wine ready for the party — particularly 
 some champagne, which he was desirous of seeing well iced, but as he 
 could not wait to do it himself, he called Andy, to give him directions 
 about it, and set off with Edward to the relief of Tom Durfy. 
 
 Andy was once more in service in the Egan family ; for the Squire, 
 on finding him still more closely linked by his marriage with the 
 desperate party whose influence over Andy was to be dreaded, took 
 advantage of Andy's disgust against the woman who had entrapped him, 
 and offered to take him off to London instead of enlisting ; and as 
 Andy believed he would be there sufficiently out of the way of the false 
 Bridget, he came off at once to Dublin with Dick, who was the pioneer 
 of the party to London. 
 
 Dick gave Andy the necessary directions for icing the champagne, 
 which he set apart, and pointed out most particularly to our hero, lest 
 he should make a mistake, and perchance ice the port instead. 
 
 After Edward and Dick had gone, Andy commenced operations, 
 according to orders. — He brought a large tub up stairs containing rough 
 ice, which excited Andy's wonder, for he never had known till now 
 
A 
 
 /'/ ■ ,■///,' i 'A,//,///,/,/, . 
 
 r.ondon. I. Lover A di - Ihaml ot -no 
 
HANDY ANDY. 337 
 
 that ice was preserved for and applied to such a use, for an ice-house did 
 not happen to be attached to any establishment in which he had served. 
 " Well, this is the quarest thing I ever heerd of," said Andy. 
 "Musha! what outlandish inventions the quolity has among them. — 
 They're not contint with wine, but they must have ice along with it, — 
 and in a tub, too ! — just like pigs ! — throth, it's a dirty thrick, I think. 
 — Well, here goes ! " said he ; and Andy opened a bottle of champagne, 
 and poured it into the tub with the ice. " How it fizzes ! " said Andy. — 
 " Faix, it's almost as lively as the soda-wather, that bothered me long 
 ago. — Well, I know more about things now — sure it's wondherful how a 
 man improves with practice ! " — and another bottle of champagne was 
 emptied into the tub as he spoke. Thus, with several such complacent 
 comments upon his own proficiency, Andy poured half-a-dozen of 
 champagne into the tub of ice, and remarked, when he had finished his 
 work, that he thought it would be " mighty cowld on their stomachs." 
 
 Dick and Edward all this time were on their way to the relief of 
 Tom Durfy, who, though he had cooled down from the boiling pitch to 
 which the misadventure of the morning had raised him, was still 
 simmering, with his elbows planted on the rickety table in Mr. Gog- 
 gins's " bower," and his chin resting on his clenched hands. It was 
 the very state of mind in which Tom was most dangerous. 
 
 At the other side of the table sat James Reddy, intently employed in 
 writing; his pursed mouth and knitted brows bespoke a labouring state 
 of thought, and the various crossings, interlinings, and blottings, gave 
 additional evidence of the same, while now and then a rush at a line 
 which was knocked off in a hurry, with slashing dashes of the pen, and 
 fierce after-crossings of t's, and determined clottings of i's, declared 
 some thought suddenly seized, and executed with bitter triumph. 
 
 " You seem very happy in yourself in what you are writing," said 
 Tom. " What is it? — Is it another epithalamium ?" 
 
 " It is a caustic article against the successful men of the day," said 
 Reddy ; " they have no merit, sir — none. 'Tis nothing but luck has 
 placed them where they are, and they ought to be exposed." He then 
 threw down his pen as he spoke, and after a silence of some minutes, 
 suddenly put this question to Tom : — 
 
 " What do you think of the world ? " 
 
 " Faith, I think it so pleasant a place," said Tom, " that I'm con- 
 foundedly vexed at being kept out of it by being locked up here ; and 
 that cursed bailiff is so provokingly free-and-easy — coming in here 
 every ten minutes, and making himself at home." 
 
 " Why, as for that matter, it is his home, you must remember." 
 
 " But while a gentleman is here for a period," said Tom, " this room 
 ought to be considered his, and that fellow has no business here — and 
 then his bows and scrapes, and talking about the feelings of a gentle- 
 man, and all that — 'tis enough to make a dog beat his father. Curse 
 him ! I'd like to choke him." 
 
 " Oh! that's merely his manner," said James. 
 
 *' Want of manners, you mean," said Tom. " Hang me, if he 
 
 z 
 
.'538 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 comes up to me with his rascally familiarity again, but I'll kick him 
 down stairs." 
 
 " My dear fellow, you are excited," said Reddy ; "don't let these 
 sublunary trifles ruffle your temper — you see how I bear it — and to 
 recall you to yourself, I will remind you of the question we started 
 from, 'What do you think of the world.' There's a general question — • 
 a broad question, upon which one may talk with temper, and soar above 
 the petty grievances of life in the grand consideration of so ample a 
 subject. — You see me here, a prisoner like yourself, but I can talk of 
 the world. Come, be a calm philosopher, like me ! — Answer, what do 
 you think of the world ? " 
 
 " I've told you already," said Tom ; " it's a capital place, only for 
 the bailiffs." 
 
 " I can't agree with you," said James. " I think it one vast pool of 
 stagnant wretchedness, where the malaria of injustice holds her scales 
 suspended, to poison rising talent by giving an undue weight to existing 
 prejudices." 
 
 To this lucid and good-tempered piece of philosophy, Tom could only 
 answer, " You know I am no poet, and I cannot argue with you ; but, 
 'pon my soul, I have known, and do know, some uncommon good fellows 
 in the world." 
 
 " You're wrong, you're wrong, my unsuspecting friend. 'Tis a bad 
 world, and no place for susceptible minds. Jealousy pursues talent like 
 its shadow — superiority only wins for you the hatred of inferior men. — 
 For instance, why am / here ? The editor of my paper will not allow 
 my articles always to appear; — prevents their insertion, lest the effect they 
 would make would cause inquiry, and tend to my distinction ; and the 
 consequence is, that the paper / came to upliold in Dublin, is deprived 
 of my articles, and / don't get paid ; while I see inferior men, without 
 asking for it, loaded with favour ; they are abroad in affluence, and / in 
 captivity and poverty. But one comfort is, even in disgrace I can 
 write, and they shall get a slashing." 
 
 Thus spoke the calm philosopher, who gave Tom a lecture on 
 patience. 
 
 Tom was no great conjuror, but at that moment, like Audrey, " he 
 thanked the gods he was not poetical." If there be any one thing 
 more than another to make an " every-day man " content with his 
 average lot, it is the exhibition of ambitious inferiority, striving for 
 distinction it can never attain ; just given sufficient perception to desire 
 the glory of success, without power to measure the strength that can 
 achieve it ; like some poor fly, which beats its head against a pane of 
 glass, seeing the sunshine beyond, but incapable of perceiving the subtle 
 medium which intervenes — too delicate for its limited sense to com- 
 prehend, but too strong for its limited power to pass. 
 
 But though Tom felt satisfaction at that moment, he had too good 
 feeling to wound the self-love of the vain creature before him ; so, instead 
 of speaking what he thought, viz. — " What business have you to attempt 
 literature, you conceited fool 1 " he tried to wean him civilly from his 
 folly by saying, " Then come back to the country, James ; if you find 
 jealous rivals here, you know you were always admired there." 
 
HANDY ANDY. 339 
 
 " No, sir ! " said James, " even there my merit was unacknowledged." 
 
 " No ! no ! " said Tom. 
 
 " Well, underrated at least. Even there, that Edward O'Connor, 
 somehow or other, I never could tell why — I never saw his great 
 talents — but somehow or other, people got it into their heads that he 
 was clever." 
 
 " I tell you what it is," said Tom, earnestly, " Ned-of-the-Hill has 
 got into a better place than people's heads — he has got into their 
 hearts ! " 
 
 "There it is! " exclaimed James, indignantly; " You have caught 
 up the cuckoo-cry — the heart ! why, sir, what merit is there in writing 
 about feelings which any common labourer can comprehend — there's no 
 poetry in that ; — true poetry lies in a higher sphere, where you have 
 difficulty in following the flight of the poet, and possibly may not be 
 fortunate enough to understand him — that's poetry, sir." 
 
 " I told you I am no poet," said Tom ; " but all I know is, I have 
 felt my heart warm to some of Edward's songs, and, by jingo ! I have 
 seen the women's eyes glisten, and their cheeks flush or grow pale, as 
 they have heard them — and that's poetry enough for me." 
 
 " Well, let Mister O'Connor enjoy his popularity, sir — if popularity 
 it may be called, in a small country circle — let him enjoy it — I don't 
 envy him his, though I think he was rather jealous about mine." 
 
 " Ned jealous ! " exclaimed Tom, in surprise. 
 
 " Yes, jealous ; I never heard him say a kind word of any verses 
 I ever wrote in my life ; and I am certain he has most unkind feelings 
 towards me." 
 
 " I tell you what it is," said Tom, " getting up" a bit ; " I told you 
 I don't understand poetry, but I do understand what's a d — d deal 
 better thing, and that's fine, generous, manly feeling ; and if there's a 
 human being in the world incapable of wronging another in his mind 
 or heart, or readier to help his fellow-man, it is Edward O'Connor — so 
 say no more, James, if you please." 
 
 Tom had scarcely uttered the last word, when the key was turned 
 in the door. 
 
 " Here's that infernal bailiff again ! " said Tom, whose irritability, 
 increased by Reddy's paltry egotism and injustice, was at its boiling 
 pitch once more. He planted himself firmly in his chair, and putting 
 on his fiercest frown, was determined to confront Mister Goggins with 
 an aspect that should astonish him. 
 
 The door opened, and Mister Goggins made his appearance, presenting 
 to the gentlemen in the room the hinder portion of his person, which 
 made several indications of courtesy performed by the other half of his 
 body, while he uttered the words, " Don't be astonished, gentlemen ; 
 you'll be used to it by and by." And with these words he kept backing 
 towards Tom, making these nether demonstrations of civility, till Tom 
 could plainly see the seams in the back of Mister Goggins's pantaloons. 
 
 Tom thought this was some new touch of the " free-and-easy" on 
 Mister Goggins's part, and losing all command of himself, he jumped 
 from his chair, and with a vigorous kick gave Mister Goggins such a 
 lively impression of his desire that he should leave the room, that 
 
 z 2 
 
S40 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 Mister Goggins went head foremost down the stairs, pitching his whole 
 weight upon Dick Dawson and Edward O'Connor, who were ascending 
 the dark stairs, and to whom all his bows had been addressed. Over- 
 whelmed with astonishment and twelve stone of bailiff, they were thrown 
 back into the hall, and an immense uproar in the passage ensued. 
 
 Edward and Dick were near coming in for some hard usage from 
 Goggins, conceiving it might be a preconcerted attempt on the part of 
 his prisoners and their newly-arrived friends to achieve a rescue ; and 
 while he was rolling about on the ground, he roared to his evil-visaged 
 janitor to look to the door first, and keep him from being " murthered " 
 after. 
 
 Fortunately no evil consequences ensued, until matters could be 
 explained in the hall, and Edward and Dick were introduced to the 
 upper room from which Goggins had been so suddenly ejected. 
 
 There the bailiff demanded in a very angry tone the cause of Tom's 
 conduct ; and when it was found to be only a mutual misunderstanding 
 — that Goggins wouldn't take a liberty with a gentleman " in deffi- 
 culties" for the world, and that Tom wouldn't hurt a fly, only " under a 
 mistake," matters were cleared up to the satisfaction of all parties, and 
 the real business of the meeting commenced : — that was, to pay Tom's 
 debt out of hand ; and when the bailiff saw all demands, fees 
 included, cleared off, the clouds from his brow cleared off also, he was 
 the most amiable of sheriffs' officers, and all his sentimentality returned. 
 
 " Ah, sir !" said he to Edward O'Connor, whose look of disgust at the 
 wretched den caught the bailiff's attention, " don't entertain an 
 antithafy from first imprissions, which is often desaivin'. I do pledge 
 you my honour, sir, there is no place in the'varsal world where human 
 nature is visible in more attractive colours than in this humble retrait." 
 
 Edward did not seem quite to agree with him, so Goggins returned 
 to the charge, while Tom and Dick were exchanging a few words with 
 James Reddy. 
 
 "You see, sir," said Goggins, "in the first place, it is quite beautiful 
 to see the mind in adversity bearing up against the little antediluvian 
 afflictions that will happen occasionally ; — and then how fine it is to 
 remark the spark of generosity that kindles in the noble heart, and 
 rushes to the assistance of the destitute ! I do assure you, sir, it is a 
 most beautiful sight to see the gentlemen in defficulties, waitin' here for 
 their friends to come to their relief, like the last scene in Blue Beard, 
 where sister Ann waives her han'kecher from the tower — the tyrant is 
 slain — and virtue rewarded ! " 
 
 Edward could not conceal a smile at the fellow's absurdity, though 
 his sense of the ridiculous could not overcome the disgust with which 
 the place inspired him. He gave an admonitory touch to the elbow of 
 Dick Dawson, who, with his friend Tom Durfy, followed Edward from 
 the room, the bailiff bringing up the rear, and relocking the door on 
 the unfortunate James Reddy, who was left " alone in his glory," to 
 finish his slashing article against the successful men of the day. 
 
 Nothing more than words of recognition had passed between Reddy 
 and Edward. In the first place, Edward's appearance at the very moment 
 the other was indulging in illiberal observations upon him, rendered the 
 
HANDY ANDY. 34t 
 
 ill-tempered poetaster dumb ; and Edward attributed this distance of 
 manner to a feeling of shyness which Reddy might entertain at being 
 seen in such a place, and therefore had too much good breeding to 
 thrust his civility on a man who seemed to shrink from it; but when he 
 left the house, he expressed his regret to his companions at the poor 
 fellow's unfortunate situation. 
 
 It touched Tom Durfy's heart to hear these expressions of com- 
 passion coming from the lips of the man he had heard maligned a few 
 minutes before by the very person commiserated, and it raised his 
 opinion higher of Edward, whose hand he now shook with warm 
 expressions of thankfulness on his own account, for the prompt service 
 rendered to him. Edward made as light of his own kindness as he 
 could, and begged Tom to think nothing of such a trifle. 
 
 " One word I will say to you, Durfy, and I'm sure you'll pardon me 
 for it." 
 
 " Could you say a thing to offend me ? " Avas the answer. 
 
 " You are to be married soon, I understand." 
 
 " To-morrow," said Tom. 
 
 " Well, my dear Durfy, if you owe any more money, take a real 
 friend's advice, and tell your pretty good- hearted widow the whole 
 amount of your debts before you marry her." 
 
 " My dear O'Connor," said Tom, " the money you've lent me now 
 is all I owe in the world — 'twas a tailor's bill, and I quite forgot it. 
 — You know no one ever thinks of a tailor's bill. Debts, indeed ! " 
 added Tom, with surprise ; "My dear fellow, I never could be much in 
 debt, for the devil a one would trust me." 
 
 " An excellent reason for your unencumbered state,'' said Edward, 
 " and I hope you pardon me." 
 
 " Pardon !" exclaimed Tom, " I esteem you for your kind and manly 
 frankness." 
 
 In the course of their progress towards Dick's lodgings, Edward 
 reverted to James Reddy's wretched condition, and found it was but 
 some petty debt for which he was arrested. He lamented, in common 
 with Dick and Tom, the infatuation which made him desert a duty he 
 could profitably perform by assisting his father in his farming concerns, 
 to pursue a literary path, which could never beany other to him than 
 one of thorns. 
 
 As Edward had engaged to meet Gusty in an hour, he parted from 
 his companions and pursued his course alone. But instead of proceeding 
 immediately homeward, he retraced his steps to the den of the bailiff, 
 and gave a quiet tap at the door. Mister Goggins himself answered 
 to the knock, and was making a loud and florid welcome to Edward, 
 who stopped his career of eloquence by laying a finger on his lip in 
 token of silence. A few words sufficed to explain the motive of his 
 visit. — He wished to ascertain the sum for which the gentleman up 
 stairs was detained. The bailiff informed him ; and the money 
 necessary to procure the captive's liberty was placed in his hand. 
 
 The bailiff cast one of his melo-dramatic glances at Edward, and 
 said, " Did'nt I tell you, sir, this was the place for calling out the 
 noblest feelings of human nature ? " 
 
342 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 " Can yon oblige me with writing materials ? " said Edward. 
 
 "I can, sir," said Goggins, proudly, "and with other materials* too, 
 if you like — and, 'pon my honour, I'd be proud to drink your health, for 
 you're a rale gintleman." 
 
 Edward, in the civillest manner, declined the offer, and wrote, or 
 rather tried to write the following note, with a pen like a skewer, ink 
 something thicker than mud, and on whity-brown paper : — 
 
 "Dear Sir, 
 
 " I hope you will pardon the liberty I have taken 
 in your temporary want of money. You can repay me at your con- 
 venience. 
 
 " Yours, 
 
 "E. O'C." 
 
 Edward left the den, and so did James Reddy soon after — a bet- 
 ter man. Though weak, his heart was not shut to the humanities 
 of life — and Edward's kindness in opening his eyes to the wrong he 
 had done one man, induced in his heart a kinder feeling towards all. 
 He tore up his slashing article against successful men. — Would that 
 every disappointed man would do the same ! 
 
 The bailiff was right : — even so low a den as his becomes ennobled 
 by the presence of active benevolence and prejudice reclaimed. 
 
 * The name given in Ireland to the necessaiy ingredients for the making of 
 '.vhisky-punch. 
 
HANDY ANDY. 343 
 
 CHAPTER XLVI1. 
 
 Edward, on returning to his hotel, found Gusty there before him 
 in great delight at having seen a " splendid" horse, as he said, which 
 had been brought for Edward's inspection, he having written a note on 
 his arrival in town to a dealer, stating his want of a first-rate hunter. 
 
 " He's in the stable now," said Gusty ; " for I desired the man to 
 wait, knowing you would be here soon." 
 
 " I cannot see him now, Gusty," said Edward ; " will you have the 
 kindness to tell the groom that I can look at the horse in his own 
 stables, when I wish to purchase." 
 
 Gusty departed to do the message, somewhat in wonder, for Edward, 
 loved a fine horse. But the truth was, that Edward's disposable money, 
 which he had intended for the purchase of a hunter, had a serious 
 inroad made upon it by the debts he had discharged for other men, and 
 he was forced to forego the pleasure he had proposed to himself in the 
 next hunting season ; and he did not like to consume any one's time, 
 or raise false expectations, by affecting to look at disposable property 
 with the eye of a purchaser, when he knew it was beyond his reach ; 
 and the flimsy common-places of "I'll think of it," or " If I don't 
 see something better," or any other of the twenty hacknied excuses 
 which idle people make, after consuming busy men's time, Edward held 
 to be unworthy. He could ride a hack, aud deny himself hunting for a 
 whole season, but he would not unnecessarily consume the useful time 
 of any man for ten minutes. 
 
 This may be sneered at by the idle and thoughtless, nevertheless, it is 
 part of the minor morality which is ever present in the conduct of a true 
 gentleman. 
 
 Edward had promised to join Dick's dinner party on an impromptu 
 invitation, and the clock striking the appointed hour warned Edward it 
 was time to be off ; so jumping up on a jaunting car, he rattled off to 
 Dick's lodgings, where a jolly party was assembled, rife for fun. 
 
 Amongst the guests was rather a remarkable man, a Colonel 
 Crammer, who had seen a monstrous deal of service — one of Tom 
 Durfy's friends, whom he had asked leave to bring with him to dinner. 
 Of course, Dick's card and a note of invitation for the gallant colonel 
 were immediately despatched, and he had but just arrived before 
 Edward, who found a bustling sensation in the room as the colonel was 
 presented to those already assembled, and Tom Durfy giving whispers, 
 aside, to each person touching his friend ; such as — " Very remarkable 
 man;" — " Seen great service ;" — " A little odd or so ;'' — u A fund of 
 most extraordinary anecdote," &c Src. 
 
344 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 Now this Colonel Crammer was no other than Tom Loftus, whose 
 acquaintance Dick wished to make, and who had been invited to the 
 dinner after a preliminary visit ; but Tom sent an excuse in his own 
 name, and preferred being present under a fictitious one — this being 
 one of the odd ways in which his humour broke out ; — desirous of 
 giving people a " touch of his quality" before they knew him. He 
 was in the habit of assuming various characters — a methodist missionary 
 — the patentee of some unheard-of invention — the director of some new 
 joint-stock company — in short, any thing which would give him an 
 opportunity of telling tremendous bouncers, was equally good for Tom. 
 His reason for assuming a military guise on this occasion was to bother 
 Moriarty, whom he knew he should meet, and had a special reason for 
 tormenting ; and he knew he could achieve this, by throwing all the 
 stories Moriarty was fond of telling about his own service into the shade, 
 by extravagant inventions of " hair-breadth 'scapes," and feats by 
 " flood and field." Indeed, the dinner would not be worth mentioning, 
 but for the extraordinary capers Tom cut on the occasion, and the 
 unheard-of lies he squandered. 
 
 Dinner was announced by Andy, and with good appetite soup 
 and fish were soon despatched ; sherry followed as a matter of necessity. 
 The second course appeared, and was not long under discussion when 
 Dick called for the " champagne." 
 
 Andy began to drag the tub towards the table, and Dick, impatient 
 of delay, again called "Champagne." 
 
 " I'm bringin' it to you, sir," said Andy, tugging at the tub. 
 
 " Hand it round the table," said Dick. 
 
 Andy tried to lift the tub, " to hand it round the table ;" but finding 
 he could not manage it, he whispered Dick, " I can't get it up, sir." 
 
 Dick, fancying Andy meant he had got a flask not in a sufficient 
 state of effervescence to expel its own cork, whispered in return, 
 " Draw it, then." 
 
 " I was dhrawin' it to you, sir, when you stopped me." 
 
 " Well, make haste with it," said Dick. 
 
 " Mister Dawson, I'll trouble you for a small slice of the turkey," 
 said the colonel. 
 
 " With pleasure, colonel ; but first do me the honour to take 
 champagne. — Andy — champagne ! " 
 
 " Here it is, sir !" said Andy, who had drawn the tub close to Dick's 
 chair. 
 
 " Where's the wine, sir ? " said Dick, looking first at the tub and 
 then at Andy. 
 
 " There, sir," said Andy, pointing down to the ice. " I put the wine 
 into it, as you tovvld me." 
 
 Dick looked again at the tub, and said, " There is not a single bottle 
 there — what do you mean, you stupid rascal ? " 
 
 " To be sure, there's no bottle there, sir. The bottles is all on the 
 side-boord, but every dhrop o' the wine is in the ice, as you towld me, 
 sir ; if you put your hand down into it, you'll feel it, sir." 
 
 The conversation between master and man growing louder as it 
 proceeded, attracted the attention of the whole company, and those near 
 
HANDY ANDY. 345 
 
 the head of the table became acquainted as soon as Dick with the mis- 
 take Andy had made, and could not resist laughter ; and as the cause 
 of their merriment was told from man to man, and passed round the 
 board, a roar of laughter uprose, not a little increased by Dick's look of 
 vexation, which at length was forced to yield to the infectious merri- 
 ment around him, and he laughed with the rest, and making a joke of 
 the disappointment, which is the very best way of passing one off, he 
 said that he had the honour of originating at his table a magnificent 
 scale of hospitality ; for though he had heard of company being 
 entertained with a whole hogshead of claret, he was not aware of 
 champagne being ever served in tubs befoi'e. The company were too 
 determined to be merry to have their pleasantry put out of tune by so 
 trifling a mishap, and it was generally voted that the joke was worth 
 twice as much as the wine. Nevertheless, Dick could not help casting 
 a reproachful look now and then at Andy, who had to run the gauntlet 
 of many a joke cut at his expense, while he waited upon the wags at 
 dinner, and caught a lowly muttered anathema whenever he passed near 
 Dick's chair. — In short, master and man were both glad when the cloth 
 was drawn, and the party could be left to themselves. 
 
 Then, as a matter of course, Dick called on the gentlemen to charge 
 their glasses, and fill high to a toast he had to propose — they would 
 anticipate to whom he referred — a gentleman who was going to change 
 his state of freedom for one of a happier bondage, &c. &c. Dick 
 dashed off his speech with several mirth-moving allusions to the change 
 that was coming over his friend Tom, and having festooned his composi- 
 tion with the proper quantity of " rosy wreaths," &c. &c. &c. naturally 
 belonging to such speeches, he wound up with some few heart)' words — 
 free from badinage, and meaning all they conveyed, and finished with 
 the rhyming benediction of a " long life and a good wife" to him. 
 
 Tom having returned thanks in the same laughing style that Dick 
 proposed his health, and bade farewell to the lighter follies of bachelor- 
 ship for the more serious ones of wedlock, the road was now open for 
 any one who was vocally inclined. Dick asked one or two, who said 
 they were not within a bottle of their singing point yet, but Tom Durfy 
 was sure his friend the colonel would favour them. 
 
 " With pleasure," said the colonel ; " and I'll sing something 
 appropriate to the blissful situation of philandering in which you have 
 been indulging of late, my friend. I wish I could give you any idea of 
 the song as I heard it warbled by the voice of an Indian princess, who 
 was attached to me once, and for whom I ran enormous risks — but no 
 matter — that's past and gone, but the soft tones of Zulima's voice will 
 ever haunt my heart ! — The song is a favourite where I heard it — on 
 the borders of Cashmere, and is supposed to be sung by a fond woman in 
 the valley of the nightingales, — 'tis so in the original, but as we have no 
 nightingales in Ireland, I have substituted the dove in the little 
 translation I have made, which, if you'll allow me, I'll attempt." 
 
 Loud cries of " Hear, hear," and tapping of applauding hands on 
 the table followed, while the colonel gave a few preliminary hems ; and 
 after some little pilot tones from his throat to show the way, his voice 
 ascended in all the glory of song. 
 
346 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 Wi)t Dobe^ong. 
 
 " Coo ! Coo ! Coo ! Coo ! 
 
 Thus did I hear the turtle-dove, 
 Coo! Coo! Coo! 
 
 Murmuring forth her love ; 
 And as she flew from tree to tree, 
 How melting seemed the notes to me- 
 
 Coo! Coo! Coo! 
 
 So like the voice of lovers, 
 
 'Twas passing sweet to hear, 
 The birds within the covers, 
 In the spring-time of the year. 
 
 "Coo! Coo! Coo! Coo! 
 
 Thus the song's returned again — 
 Coo! Coo! Coo! 
 
 Through the shady glen ; 
 But there I wandered lone and sad, 
 While every bird around was glad. 
 Coo! Coot Coo! 
 Thus so fondly murmured thev, 
 
 Coo! Coo! Coo! 
 While my love was away. 
 And yet the song to lovers, 
 
 Though sad, is sweet to hear, 
 From birds within the covers, 
 In the spring-time of the year." 
 
 The colonel's song, given with Tom Loftus's good voice, was received 
 with great applause, and the fellows all voted it catching, and began 
 " cooing" round the table like a parcel of pigeons. 
 
 '■ A translation from an Eastern poet, you say? " 
 
 " Yes," said Tom. 
 
 " 'Tis not very Eastern in its character," said Moriarty. 
 
 " I mean a free translation, of course," added the mock colonel. 
 
 " Would you favour us with the song again, in the original ? " added 
 Moriarty. 
 
 Tom Loftus did not know one syllable of any other language than 
 his own, and it would not have been convenient to talk gibberish to 
 Moriarty, who had a smattering of some of the Eastern tongues ; so he 
 declined giving his Cashmerian song in its native purity, because, as he 
 said, he never could manage to speak their dialect, though heunder- 
 stood it reasonably well. 
 
 " But there's a gentleman I am sure will sing some other song — and 
 a better one, I have no doubt," said Tom, with a very humble prostra- 
 tion of his head on the table, and anxious by a fresh song to get out of 
 the dilemma in which Moriarty 's question was near placing him. 
 
 "Not a better, colonel," said the gentleman who was addressed; 
 11 but I cannot refuse your call, and I will do my best; — hand me thfl 
 
HANDY ANDY". 347 
 
 port wine, pray ; I always take a glass of port before I sing — I think 
 
 'tis good for the throat — what do you say, colonel ? " 
 
 " When I want to sing particularly well," said Tom, "I drink canary. u 
 The gentleman smiled at the whimsical answer, tossed off his glass of 
 
 port and began. 
 
 Ua&g Jfflfae. 
 
 1 Lady mine ! lady mine ! 
 Take the rosy wreath I twine ; 
 All its sweets are less than thine, 
 
 Lady, lady mine! 
 The blush that on thy cheek is found 
 Bloometh fresh the whole year round ; 
 Thy sweet breath as sweet gives sound, 
 
 Lady, lady mine ! 
 
 ; Lady mine ! lady mine ! 
 How I love the graceful vine, 
 Whose tendrils mock thy ringlets' twine, 
 
 Lady, lady mine ! 
 How 1 love that gen'rous tree, 
 "Whose ripe clusters promise me 
 Bumpers bright, — to pledge to thee, 
 Lady, lady mine -. 
 
 " Lady mine ! lady mine ! 
 Like the stars that nightly shine, 
 Thy sweet eyes shed light divine, 
 
 Lady, lady mine ! 
 And as sages wise, of old, 
 From the stars could fate unfold, 
 Thy bright eyes my fortune told, 
 Lady, lady mine!" 
 
 The song was just in the style to catch gentlemen after dinner, — the 
 second verse particularly, and many a glass was emptied of a "bumper 
 bright," and pledged to the particular " thee," which each individual 
 had selected for his devotion. Edward at that moment certainly 
 thought of Fanny Dawson. 
 
 Let teetotallers say what they please, there is a genial influence 
 inspired by wine and song, — not in excess, but in that wholesome degree 
 Avhich stirs the blood and warms the fancy ; and as one raises the glass 
 to the lip, over which some sweet name is just breathed from the depth 
 of the heart, what libation so fit to pour to absent friends as wine ? 
 What is wine ? It is the grape, present in another form ; — its 
 essence is there, though the fruit which produced it grew thousands of 
 miles away, and perished years ago. So the object of many a tender 
 
348 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 thought may be spiritually present, in defiance of space, and fond recol- 
 lections cherished, in defiance of time. 
 
 As the party became more convivial, the mirth began to assume a 
 broader form. Tom Durfy drew out Moriarty on the subject of his 
 services, that the mock colonel might throw every new achievement 
 into the shade ; and this he did in the most barefaced manner, but 
 mixing so much of probability with his audacious fiction, that those who 
 were not up to the joke only supposed him to be a very great romancer ; 
 while those friends who were in Loftus's confidence exhibited a most 
 capacious stomach for the marvellous, and backed up his lies with a 
 ready credence. If Moriarty told some fearful incident of a tiger hunt, 
 the colonel capped it with something more wonderful, of slaughtering 
 lions in a wholesale way, like rabbits. When Moriarty expatiated on 
 the intensity of tropical heat, the colonel would upset him with some- 
 thing more appalling. 
 
 " Now, sir," said Loftus ; " let me ask you what is the greatest 
 amount of heat you have ever experienced — I say experienced, not 
 heard of — for that goes for nothing. I always speak from experience." 
 
 " Well, sir ! " said Moriarty, " I have known it to be so hot in India, 
 that I have had a hole dug in the ground under my tent, and sat in it, 
 and put a table standing over the hole, to try and guard me from the 
 intolerable fervour of the eastern sun, and even then I was hot. — What 
 do you say to that, colonel ? " asked Moriarty, triumphantly. 
 
 " Have you ever been in the West Indies ? " inquired Loftus. 
 
 " Never," said Moriarty, who, once entrapped into this admission, 
 was directly at " the colonel's" mercy, — and the colonel launched out 
 fearlessly. 
 
 " Then, my good sir, you know nothing of heat. I have seen in the 
 West Indies an umbrella burned over a man's head." 
 
 " Wonderful ! " cried Loftus's backers. 
 
 " 'Tis strange, sir," said Moriarty, "that we have never seen that 
 mentioned by any writer." 
 
 " Easily accounted for, sir," said Loftus. — " 'Tis so common a circum- 
 stance, that it ceases to be worthy of observation. An author writing 
 of this country might as well remark that apple-women are to be seen 
 sitting at the corners of the streets. — That's nothing, sir, but there are 
 two things of which I have personal knowledge, rather remarkable. 
 One day of intense heat, (even for that climate,) 1 was on a visit at the 
 plantation of a friend of mine, and it was so out-o'-the-way scorching, 
 that our lips were like cinders, and we were obliged to have black slaves 
 pouring sangaree down our throats by gallons — I don't hesitate to say 
 gallons — and we thought we could not have survived through the day ; 
 but what could we think of our sufferings, when we heard that several 
 negroes, who had gone to sleep under the shade of some cocoa-nut 
 trees, had been scalded to death." 
 
 " Scalded ! " said his friends ; " burnt, you mean." 
 
 " No, scalded ; and how do you think ? The intensity of the heat 
 had cracked the cocoa-nuts, and the boiling milk inside dropped down 
 and produced the fatal result. The same day a remarkable accidenl 
 occurred at the battery — the French were hovering round the island at 
 
HANDY ANDY. 349 
 
 the time, and the governor, being a timid man, ordered the guns to be 
 always kept loaded." 
 
 " I never heard of such a thing in a battery in my life, sir," said 
 Moriarty. 
 
 " Nor I either," said Loftus, " till then." 
 
 ' ; What was the governor's name, sir ? " inquired Moriarty, pursuing 
 his train of doubt. 
 
 " You must excuse me, captain, from naming him," said Loftus, 
 with readiness, " after incautiously saying he was timid." 
 
 " Hear, hear ! " said all the friends. 
 
 " But to pursue my story, sir; — the guns were loaded, and with the 
 intensity of the heat went off, one after another, and quite riddled one 
 of his Majesty's frigates that was lying in the harbour." 
 
 " That's one of the most difficult riddles to comprehend I ever 
 heard," said Moriarty. 
 
 " The frigate answered the riddle with her guns, sir, I promise you." 
 
 " What ! " exclaimed Moriarty, " fire on the fort of her own 
 king ? " 
 
 " There is an honest principle exists amongst sailors, sir, to return 
 fire under all circumstances, wherever it comes from — friend or foe. 
 Fire, of which they know the value so well, they won't take from 
 any body." 
 
 " And what was the consequence ?" said Moriarty. 
 
 " Sir, it was the most harmless broadside ever delivered from the 
 ports of a British frigate ; not a single house or human being was 
 injured — the day was so hot that every sentinel had sunk on the ground 
 in utter exhaustion — the whole population were asleep ; the only loss of 
 life which occurred, was that of a blue macaw, which belonged to the 
 commandant's daughter." 
 
 " Where was the macaw, may I beg to know 1 " said Moriarty, 
 cross-questioning the colonel in the spirit of a counsel for the defence 
 on a capital indictment. 
 
 " In the drawing-room window, sir." 
 
 " Then, surely the ball must have done some damage in the house ? " 
 
 " Not the least, sir," said Loftus, sipping his wine. 
 
 " Surely, colonel ! " returned Moriarty, warming, " the ball could 
 not have killed the macaw without injuring the house ? " 
 
 " My dear sir," said Tom, " I did not say the ball killed the macaw, 
 I said the macaw was killed ; but that was in consequence of a splinter 
 from an epaulement of the south-east angle of the fort which the shot 
 struck, and glanced off harmlessly, — except for the casualty of the 
 macaw." 
 
 Moriarty returned a sort of grunt, which implied, that, though he 
 could not further question, he did not believe. Under such circumstances, 
 taking snuff is a great relief to a man ; and, as it happened, Moriarty, 
 in taking snuff, could gratify his nose and his vanity at the same time, 
 for he sported a silver-gilt snuff-box which was presented to him in 
 some extraordinary way, and bore a grand inscription. 
 
 On this " piece of plate" being produced, of course it went round 
 the table, and Moriarty could scarcely conceal the satisfaction he fell 
 
350 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 as each person read the engraven testimonial of his worth. When it 
 had gone the circuit of the board, Tom Loftus put his hand into his 
 pocket, and pulled out the butt end of a rifle, which is always furnished 
 with a small box, cut out of the solid part of the wood, and covered 
 with a plate of brass, acting on a hinge. This box, intended to carry- 
 small implements for the use of the rifleman, to keep his piece in order, 
 was filled with snuff, and Tom said, as he laid it down on the table, 
 <( This is my snuff-box, gentlemen ; not as handsome as my gallant 
 friend's at the opposite side of the table, but extremely interesting to 
 me. It was previous to one of our dashing affairs in Spain, that 
 our riflemen were thrown out in front and on the flanks. The 
 rifles were supported by the light companies of the regiments in 
 advance, and it was in the latter duty I was engaged. We had to feel 
 our way through a wood, and had cleared it of the enemy, when, as we 
 debouched from the wood on the opposite side, we were charged by an 
 overwhelming force of Polish lancers and cuirassiers. Retreat was 
 impossible — resistance almost hopeless. ' My lads,' said I, ' we must 
 do something novel here, or we are lost — startle them by fresh practice 
 — the bayonet will no longer avail you — club your muskets, and hit the 
 horses over the noses, and they'll smell danger.' They took my advice ; 
 of course we first delivered a withering volley, and then to it we went 
 in flail fashion, thrashing away with the butt-ends of our muskets, — and 
 sure enough the French were astonished, and driven back in amaze- 
 ment. So tremendous, sir, was the hitting on our side, that in many 
 instances the butt-ends of the muskets snapped off like tobacco pipes, 
 and the field was quite strewn with them after the affair : I picked one 
 of them up as a little memento of the day, and have used it ever since 
 as a snuff-box." 
 
 Every one was amused by the outrageous romancing of the colonel 
 but Moriarty, who looked rather disgusted, because he could not edge 
 in a word of his own at all : he gave up the thing now in despair, for 
 the colonel had it all his own way, like the bull in the china shop ; 
 — the more startling the bouncers he told, the more successful were his 
 anecdotes, and he kept pouring them out with the most astounding 
 rapidity ; and though all veted him the greatest liar they ever met, none 
 suspected he was not a military man. 
 
 Dick wanted Edward O'Connor, who sat beside him, to sing ; but 
 Edward whispered, " For heaven's sake, don't stop the flow of the 
 lava from that mighty irruption of lies — he's a perfect Vesuvius of 
 mendacity. — You'll never meet his like again, so make the most of him 
 while you have him. Pray, sir," said Edward to the colonel, " have 
 you ever been in any of the cold climates. I am induced to ask you, 
 from the very wonderful anecdotes you have told of the hot ones." 
 
 " Bless you, sir, I know every corner about the north pole." 
 
 " In which of the expeditions, may I ask, were you engaged ? " 
 inquired Moriarty. 
 
 " In none of them, sir. We knocked up a little amateur party, I 
 and a few curious friends, and certainly we witnessed wonders. You 
 talk here of a sharp wind ; — but the wind is so sharp there, that it cut 
 off our beards and whiskers. Boreas is a great barber, sir, with his 
 
HANDY ANDY. 351 
 
 north pole for a sign. Then as for frost ! — I could tell you such 
 incredible things of its intensity ; — our butter, for instance, was as hard 
 as a rock ; we were obliged to knock it off with a chisel and hammer, 
 like a mason at a piece of granite, and it was necessary to be careful of 
 your eyes at breakfast, the splinters used to fly about so ; indeed, one 
 of the party did lose the use of his eye from a butter splinter. 
 
 " But the oddest thing of all was to watch two men talking to each 
 other : you could observe the words, as they came out of their mouths, 
 suddenly frozen and dropping down in little pellets of ice at their feet, 
 so that, after a long conversation, you might see a man standing up to 
 his knees in his own eloquence." 
 
 They all roared with laughter at this last touch of the marvellous, 
 but Loftus preserved his gravity. 
 
 " I don't wonder, gentlemen, at your not receiving that as truth — 
 I told you 'twas incredible — in short, that is the reason I have resisted 
 all temptations to publish. Murray, Longmans, Colburn, Bentley, all 
 the publishers have offered me unlimited terms, but I have always 
 refused ; — not that I am a rich man, which makes the temptation of the 
 thousands I might realise the harder to withstand ; 'tis not that the 
 gold is not precious to me, but there is something dearer to me than 
 gold — it is my character for veracity, gentlemen ! — and therefore, as 
 I am convinced the public would not believe the wonders I have wit- 
 nessed, I confine the recital of my adventures to the social circle. 
 But what profession affords such scope for varied incident as that of the 
 soldier ? — Change of clime, danger, vicissitude, love, war, privation 
 one day, profusion the next, darkling dangers and sparkling joys. 
 Zounds ! there's nothing like the life of a soldier ! and by the powers, 
 I'll give you a song in its praise." 
 
 The proposition was received with cheers, and Tom rattled away 
 these ringing rhymes : — 
 
 " Oh there's not a trade that's going, 
 Worth showing, 
 Or knowing, 
 Like that from glory growing, 
 
 For a bowld sojer boy ; 
 Where right or left we go, 
 Sure you know, 
 Friend or foe 
 Will have the hand or toe, 
 
 From a bowld sojer boy ! 
 There's not a town we march thro', 
 But the ladies, looking arch thro' 
 The window-panes, will search thro' 
 
 The ranks to find their joy ; 
 While up the street, 
 Each girl you meet, 
 With look so sly, 
 Will cry, 
 ' My eye ! 
 Oh, isn't he a darling, the bowld sojer boy I ' 
 
352 HANDY ANDY, 
 
 " But when we get the route, 
 How they pout 
 And they shout, 
 While to the right about 
 
 Goes the bowld sojer boy.. 
 Oh, 'tis then that ladies fair 
 In despair 
 Tear their hair, 
 But * the divil-a-one I care,' 
 
 Says the bowld sojer boyi 
 For the world is all before us, 
 Where the landladies adore us, 
 And ne'er refuse to score us, 
 
 But chalk us up with joy : 
 We taste her tap, 
 We tear her cap — 
 ' Oh, that's the chap 
 Forme !' 
 Says she ; 
 ' Oh, isn't he a darling, the bowld sojer boy?' 
 
 " 'Then come along with me, 
 Gramachree, 
 And you'll see, 
 How happy you will be 
 
 With your bowld sojer boy: 
 Faith ! if you're up to fun, 
 With me run ; 
 'Twill be done 
 In the snapping of a gun,' 
 
 Says the bowld sojer boy ; 
 ' And 'tis then that, without scandal, 
 Myself will proudly dandle 
 The little farthing candle 
 
 Of our mutual flame, my joy ! 
 May his light shine, 
 As bright as mine, 
 Till in the line 
 He'll blaze, 
 And raise 
 The glory of his corps, like a bowld sojer hoy ! ' " 
 
 Andy entered the room while the song was in progress, and handed 
 a letter to Dick, which, after the song was over, and he had asked pardon 
 of his guests, he opened. 
 
 " By Jove ! you sing right well, colonel," said one of the party. 
 
 " I think the gallant colonel's song's nothing in comparison with his 
 wonderful stories," said Moriarty. 
 
 " Gentlemen," said Dick, " wonderful as the colonel's recitals have 
 been, this letter conveys a piece of information more surprising than 
 any thing we have heard this evening, " That stupid fellow, who has 
 spoiled our champagne, has come in for the inheritance of a large 
 property." 
 
 " What ! — Handy Andy? " exclaimed those who knew his name, in 
 wonder. 
 
 " Handy Andy," said Dick, " is now a man of fortune ! " 
 
HANDY ANDY. 353 
 
 CHAPTER XLVIII. 
 
 It was a note from Squire Egan, which conveyed the news to Dick, 
 that caused so much surprise ; — the details of the case were not even 
 hinted at ; the bare fact alone was mentioned, with a caution to pre- 
 serve it still a secret from Andy, and appointing an hour for dinner at 
 " Morisson's" next day, at which hotel the Squire expected to arrive 
 from the country, with his lady and Fanny Dawson, en route for London. 
 Till dinner time, then, the day following, Dick was obliged to lay by his 
 impatience as to the " why and wherefore'' of Andy's sudden advance- 
 ment ; but, as the morning was to be occupied with Tom Durfy 's wedding, 
 Dick had enough to keep him engaged in the mean time. 
 
 At the appointed hour a few of Tom's particular friends were in 
 attendance to witness the ceremony, or, to use their own phrase, " to see 
 him turned off," and among them was Tom Loftus. Dick was holding 
 out his hand to "the colonel," when Tom Durfy stepped between, and 
 introduced him under his real name. The masquerading trick of the 
 night before was laughed at, with an assurance from Dick that it only 
 fulfilled all he had ever heard of the Protean powers of a gentleman 
 whom he so much wished to know. A few minutes' conversation in the 
 recess of a window put Tom Loftus and Dick the Divil on perfectly 
 good terms, and Loftus proposed to Dick that they should execute the 
 old established trick on a bridegroom, of snatching the first kiss from 
 the bride. 
 
 " You must get in Tom's way," said Loftus, " and I'll kiss her." 
 
 " Why, the fact is," said Dick, " I had proposed that pleasure to 
 myself; and if it's all the same to you, you can jostle Tom, and I'll do 
 the remainder in good style, I promise you." 
 
 " That I can't agree to," said Loftus ; "but as it appears we both 
 have set our heart on cheating the bridegroom, let us both start fair, 
 and 'tis odd, if between us Tom Durfy is not done." 
 
 This was agreed upon, and many minutes did not elapse till the bride 
 made her appearance and " hostilities were about to commence." The 
 mutual enemy of the " high contracting parties" first opened his book, 
 and then his mouth, and in such solemn tones, that it was enough to 
 frighten even a widow, much less a bachelor. As the ceremony verged 
 to a conclusion, Tom Durfy and Dick the Divil edged up towards 
 their vantage-ground on either side of the blooming widow, now nearly 
 finished into a wife, and stood like greyhounds in the slip, ready to start 
 after puss (only puss ought to be spelt here with aBj. The widow, 
 having been married before, was less nervous than Durfy, and suspecting 
 
 A A 
 
354 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 the intended game, determined to foil both the brigands, who intended 
 to rob the bridegroom of his right ; so, when the last word of the 
 ceremony was spoken, and Loftus and Dick made a simultaneous dart 
 upon her, she very adroitly ducked, and allowed the two "ruggers 
 and rievers" to rush into each other's arms, and bob their noses to- 
 gether, while Tom Durfy and his blooming bride sealed their contract 
 very agreeably without their noses getting in each other's way. 
 
 Loftus and Dick had only a laugh at their own expense, instead of a 
 kiss at Tom's, upon the failure of their plot ; but Loftus, in a whisper 
 to Dick, vowed he would execute a trick upon " the pair of them " 
 before the day was over. 
 
 There was a breakfast, as usual, and chicken and tongue, and wine, 
 which, taken in the morning, are singularly provocative of eloquence ; 
 and, of course, the proper quantity of healths and toasts were executed 
 selon la regie, until it was time for the bride and bridegroom to bow 
 and blush and curtsey out of the room, and make themselves food for a 
 paragraph in the morning papers, under the title of " the happy pair," 
 who set off in a handsome chariot, &c &c. 
 
 Tom Durfy had engaged a pretty cottage in the neighbourhood of 
 Clontarf to pass the honeymoon. Tom Loftus knew this, and knew, 
 moreover, that the sitting-room looked out on a small lawn which lay 
 before the house, screened by a hedge from the road, but with a circular 
 sweep leading up to the house, and a gate of ingress and egress at 
 either end ot the hedge. In this sitting-room Tom, after lunch, was 
 pressing his lady fair to take a glass of champagne, when the entrance- 
 gate was thrown open, and a hackney jaunting car, with Tom Loftus 
 and a friend or two upon it, driven by a special ragamuffin blowing a 
 tin horn, rolled up the skimping avenue, and as it scoured past the win- 
 dows of the sitting-room, Tom Loftus and the other passengers kissed 
 hands to the astonished bride and bridegroom, and shouted " Wish you 
 
 The thing was so sudden that Durfy and the widow, not seeing Lof- 
 tus, could hardly comprehend what it meant, and both ran to the 
 window ; but, just as they reached it, up drove another car, freighted 
 with two or three more wild rascals, who followed the lead which had 
 been given them ; and as a long train of cars were seen in the distance 
 all driving up to the avenue, the widow, with a timid little scream, threw 
 her handkerchief over her face and ran into a corner. Tom did not 
 know whether to laugh or be angry, but, being a good-humoured fellow, 
 he satisfied himself with a few oaths against the incorrigible Loftus, 
 and, when the cortege had passed, endeavoured to restore the startled 
 fair one to her serenity. 
 
 Squire Egan and party arrived at the appointed hour at their hotel, 
 where Dick was waiting to receive them, and, of course, his inquiries 
 were immediately directed to the extraordinary circumstance of Andy's 
 elevation, the details of which he desired to know. These we shall 
 
HANDY ANDY. o55 
 
 not give in the expanded form in which Dick heard them, but endea- 
 vour to condense, as much as possible, within the limits to which we 
 are prescribed. 
 
 The title of Scatterbrain had never been inherited directly from father 
 to son ; it had descended in a zigzag fashion, most appropriate to the 
 name, nephews and cousins having come in for the coronet and the 
 property for some generations. The late lord had led a roue bachelor 
 life up to the age of sixty, and then thought it not worth while to marry, 
 though many mammas and daughters spread their nets and arrayed 
 their charms to entrap the sexagenarian. 
 
 The truth was, he had quaffed the cup of licentious pleasure all his 
 life, after which he thought matrimony would prove insipid. The 
 mere novelty induces some men, under similar circumstances, to try the 
 holy estate ; but matrimony could not offer to Lord Scatterbrain the 
 charm of novelty, for he had been once married, though no one but 
 himself was cognizant of the fact. 
 
 The reader will certainly say, " Here's an Irish bull ; how could a 
 man be married without, at least, a woman and a priest being joint 
 possessors of the secret ?" 
 
 Listen, gentle reader, and you shall hear how none but Lord Scatter- 
 brain knew Lord Scatterbrain was married. 
 
 There was nothing at which he ever stopped for the gratification of 
 his passions, — no wealth he would not squander, no deceit he would not 
 practise, — no disguise he would not assume. Therefore, gold and false- 
 hood and masquerading were extensively employed by this reckless 
 roue in the service of Venus, in which service, combined with that of 
 Bacchus, his life was entirely passed. 
 
 Often he assumed the guise of a man in humble life, to approximate 
 some object of his desire, whom fine clothes and bribery would have 
 instantly warned ; and in too many cases his artifices were successful. 
 It was in one of these adventures he cast his eyes upon the woman 
 hitherto known in this story under the name of the widow Rooney ; 
 but all his practices against her virtue were unavailing, and nothing 
 but a marriage could accomplish what he had set his fancy upon ; but 
 even this would not stop him, for he married her. 
 
 The widow Rooney has appeared no very inviting personage through 
 these pages, and the reader may wonder that a man of rank could pro- 
 ceed to such desperate lengths upon such slight temptation; but 
 gentle reader, she was young and attractive when she was married 
 never to say handsome, but goodlooking decidedly, and with that sort 
 of figure which is comprehended in the phrase "a fine girl." 
 
 And has that fine girl altered into the widow Rooney 1 Ah ! poverty 
 and hardship are sore trials to the body as well as to the mind. Too little 
 is it considered, while we gaze on aristocratic beauty, how much 
 good food, soft lying, warm wrapping, ease of mind, have to do with the 
 attractions which command our admiration. — Many a hand moulded by 
 nature to give elegance of form to a kid glove, is " stinted of its fair 
 proportion" by grubbing toil. The foot which might have excited the 
 admiration of a ball room, peeping under a flounce of lace, in a satin 
 shoe, and treading the mazy dance, will grow coarse and broad by 
 
 A A 2 
 
356 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 tramping in its native state over toilsome miles, bearing perchance to a 
 market-town some few eggs, whose whole produce would not purchase 
 the sandal-tie of my lady's slipper ; will grow red and rough by standing 
 in wet trenches, and feeling the winter's frost. The neck on which 
 diamonds might have worthily sparkled, will look less tempting when 
 the biting winter has hung icicles there for gems. Cheeks formed as 
 fresh for dimpling blushes, eyes as well to sparkle, and lips to smile, as 
 those which shed their brightness and (heir witchery in the tapestried 
 saloon, will grow pale with want, and forget their dimples, when smiles 
 are not there to wake them ; — lips become compressed and drawn with 
 anxious thought, and eyes the brightest are quenched of their fires by 
 many tears. 
 
 Of all these trials poor widow Rooney had enough. Her husband, 
 after living with her a month, in the character of steward to some great 
 man in a distant part of the country, left her one day for the purpose 
 of transacting business at a fair, which, he said, would require his 
 absence for some time. At the end of a week a letter was sent to her, 
 stating that the make-believe steward had robbed his master extensively, 
 and had fled to America, whence he promised to write to her, and send 
 her means to follow him, — requesting, in the mean time, her silence, in 
 case any inquiries should be made about him. This villanous trick 
 was played off the more readily, from the fact that a steward had 
 absconded at the time, and the difference in name the cruel profligate 
 accounted for by saying that, as he was hiding at the moment he married 
 her, he had assumed another name. 
 
 The poor deserted girl, fully believing this trumped-up tale, obeyed 
 with unflinching fidelity the injunctions of her betrayer, and while 
 reports were flying abroad of the absconded steward, she never breathed 
 a word of what had been confided to her, and accounted for the absence 
 of " Rooney" in various ways of her own ; so that all trace of the profligate 
 was lost by her remaining inactive in making the smallest inquiry about 
 him, and her very fidelity to her betrayer became the means of her 
 losing all power of procuring his discovery. For months she trusted all 
 was right ; but when moon followed moon, and she gave birth to a boy 
 without hearing one word of his father, misgiving came upon her, and 
 the only consolation left her was, that, though she was deserted, and 
 a child left on her hands, still she was an honest woman. That 
 child was the hero of our tale. The neighbours passed some illnatured 
 remarks about her, when it began to be suspected that her husband 
 would never let her know more about him ; for she had been rather a 
 saucy lady, holding up her nose at poor men, and triumphing in her 
 catching of the " steward, - ' a man well to do in the world ; and it may 
 be remembered, that this same spirit existed in her when Andy's 
 rumoured marriage with Matty gave the prospect of her affairs being 
 retrieved, for she displayed her love of pre-eminence to the very first 
 person who gave her the good news. The ill-nature of her neighbours, 
 however, after the birth of her child, and the desertion of her husband, 
 inducing her to leave the scene of her unmerited wrongs and annoy- 
 ances, she suddenly decamped, and, removing to another part of Ireland, 
 the poor woman began a life of hardship, to support herself and rear 
 
HANDY ANDY. 357 
 
 the offspring of her unfortunate marriage. In tnis task she was 
 worthily assisted by one of her brothers, who pitied her condition, and 
 joined her in her retreat. He married in course of time, and his wife 
 died in giving birth to Oonah, who was soon deprived of her other 
 parent by typhus fever, — that terrible scourge of the poor ; so that the 
 praiseworthy desire of the brother to befriend his sister, only involved 
 her, as it happened, in the deeper difficulty of supporting two children 
 instead of one. This she did heroically, and the orphan girl rewarded 
 her, by proving a greater comfort than her own child ; for Andy had 
 inherited in all its raciness the blood of the Scatterbrains, and his deeds, 
 as recorded in this history, prove he was no unworthy representative of 
 that illustrious title. 
 
 To return to his father — he who had done the grievous wrong to the 
 poor peasant girl ; — he lived his life of profligacy through, and in a foreign 
 country died at last ; but on his death-bed the scourge of conscience 
 rendered every helpless hour an age of woe. Bitterest of all was the 
 thought of the wife deceived, deserted, and unacknowledged. To face 
 his last account with such fearful crime upon his head he dared not, and 
 made all the reparation now in his power, by avowing his marriage 
 in his last will and testament, and giving all the information in his power 
 to trace his wife, if living, or his heir, if such existed. He enjoined, by 
 the most sacred injunctions upon him to whom the charge was com- 
 mitted, that neither cost nor trouble should be spared in the search, leav- 
 ing a large sum in ready money besides, to establish the right, in case his 
 nephew disputed the will. By his own order his death was kept secret, 
 and secretly his agent set to work to discover any trace of the heir. This, 
 in consequence of the woman changing her place of abode, became 
 more difficult ; and it was not until after very minute inquiry that some 
 trace was picked up, and a letter written to the parish priest of the dis- 
 trict to where she had removed, making certain general inquiries. It was 
 found, on comparing dates some time after, that it was this very letter 
 to Father Blake which Andy had purloined from the post office, and the 
 Squire had thrown into the fire, so that our hero was very near, by his 
 blundering, destroying his own fortune. Luckily for him, however, an 
 untiring and intelligent agent was engaged in his cause, and a subse- 
 quent inquiry, and finally, a personal visit to Father Blake, cleared the 
 matter up satisfactorily, and the widow was enabled to produce such 
 proof of her identity, and that of her son, that Handy Andy was indis- 
 putably Lord Scatterbrain ; and the whole affair was managed so 
 secretly, that the death of the late lord, and the claim of title and 
 estates, in the name of the rightful heir, were announced at the same 
 moment ; and the " Honourable Sackville," instead of coming into pos- 
 session of the peerage and property, and fighting his adversary at the 
 great advantage of possession, could only commence a suit to drive 
 him out, if he sued at all. 
 
 Our limits compel us to this brief sketch of the circumstances through 
 which Handy Andy was entitled to and became possessed of a property 
 and a title, and we must now say something of the effects produced by 
 the intelligence on the parties most concerned. 
 
 The Honourable Sackville Scatterbrain, on the advice of high legal 
 
353 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 authority, did not attempt to dispute a succession of which such satis- 
 factory proofs existed, and, fortunately for himself, had knocked up a 
 watering-place match, while he was yet in the bloom of his heirship 
 presumptive to a peerage, with the daughter of an English millionaire. 
 
 When the widow Rooney heard the extraordinary turn affairs had 
 taken, her emotions, after the first few hours of pleasurable surprise, 
 partook of regret rather than satisfaction. She looked upon her past 
 life of suffering, and felt as if Fate had cheated her. She, a peeress, 
 had passed her life in poverty and suffering, with contempt from those 
 over whom she had superior rights ; and the few years of the pros- 
 perous future before her offered her poor compensation for the pinching 
 past. But after such selfish considerations, the maternal feeling came 
 to her relief, and she rejoiced that her son was a lord. But then came 
 the terrible thought of his marriage to dash her joy and triumph. 
 
 This was a source of grief to Oonah as well. " If he wasn't mar- 
 ried," she would say to herself, " I might be Lady Scatterbrain ;" and 
 the tears would burst through poor Oonah 's fingers as she held them 
 up to her eyes, and sobbed heavily, till the poor girl would try to gather 
 consolation from the thought that, may be, Andy's altered circumstances 
 would make her disregarded. " There would be plenty to have him 
 now," thought she, " and he wouldn't think of me, may be — so 'tis as 
 well as it is." 
 
 When Andy heard that he was a lord — a real lord — and, after the 
 first shock of astonishment, could comprehend that wealth and power 
 were in his possession, he, though the most interested person, never 
 thought, as the two women had done, of the desperate strait in which 
 his marriage placed him, but broke out into short peals of laughter, and 
 exclaimed, in the intervals, that "it was mighty quare;" and when, 
 after much questioning, any intelligible desire he had could be under- 
 stood, the first one he clearly expressed was " to have a goold watch." 
 
 He was made, however, to understand that other things than " goold 
 watches" were of more importance ; and the Squire, with his charac- 
 teristic good nature, endeavoured to open Andy's comprehension to the 
 nature of his altered situation. This, it may be supposed, was rather 
 a complicated piece of work, and too difficult to be set down in black 
 and white ; the most intelligible portions to Andy were his immediate 
 removal from servitude, and a ready-made suit of gentlemanly apparel, 
 which made Andy pay several visits to the looking-glass. Good- 
 natured as the Squire was, it would have been equally awkward to him 
 as to Andy for the new-fledged lord, though a lord, to have a seat at 
 his table, neither could he remain in an inferior position in his house ; 
 so Dick, who loved fun, volunteered to take Andy under his especial 
 care to London, and let him share his lodgings, as a bachelor may do 
 many things which a man surrounded by his family cannot. Besides, 
 in a place distant from the scene of such extraordinary chances and 
 changes as those which beM our hero, the sudden and startling differ- 
 ence of position of the parties, not being known, renders it possible for 
 a gentleman to do the good-natured thing which Dick undertook, with- 
 out compromising himself. In Dublin it would not have done for Dick 
 Dawson to allow the man who would have held his horse the day 
 
HANDY ANDY. 359 
 
 before to share the same board with him merely because Fortune had 
 played one of her frolics, and made Andy a lord ; but in London the 
 case was different. 
 
 To London, therefore, they proceeded. The incidents of the jour- 
 ney, sea-sickness included, which so astonished the new traveller, we 
 pass over, as we) 1 as the numberless mistakes in the great metropolis, 
 which afforded Dick plentiful amusement, though, in truth, Dick had 
 better objects in view than laughing at Andy's embarrassments in his 
 new position. He really wished to help him in the difficult path into 
 which the new lord had been thrust, and did this in a merry sort of way 
 more successfully than by serious drilling. It was hard to break Andy 
 of the habit of saying " Misther Dick,'' when addressing him, but, at 
 last, " Misther Dawson" was established. Eating with his knife, drink- 
 ing as loudly as a horse, and other like accomplishments, were not so 
 easily got under, yet it was wonderful how much he improved, as his 
 shyness grew less, and his consciousness of being a lord grew stronger. 
 
 But if the good nature of Dick had not prompted him to take Andy 
 into training, the newly discovered nobleman would not have long been 
 in want of society. It was wonderful how many persons were eager 
 to show civility to his lordship, and some amongst them even went so 
 far as to discover relationship. Plenty were soon ready to take Lord 
 Scatterbrain here, and escort him there, accompany him to exhibitions 
 and other public places, and charmed all the time with his lordship's 
 remarks — " they were so original ;" — " quite delightful to meet some- 
 thing so fresh ;" — " how remarkably clever the Irish were ! " Such were 
 among the observations his ignorant blunders produced; and he who, 
 as Handy Andy, had been anathematized all his life as a " stupid ras- 
 cal," — "a blundering thief," — " a thick-headed brute," &c. &c, under 
 the title of Lord Scatterbrain all of a sudden was voted li vastly amus- 
 ing — a little eccentric, perhaps, but so droll — in fact, so witty ! " 
 
 This was all very delightful lor Andy — so delightful that he quite 
 forgot Bridget rhua. But that lady did not leave him long in his 
 happy obliviousness. One day, while Dick was absent, and Andy rock- 
 ing on a chair before the fire, twirling the massive gold chain of his 
 gold watch round his forefinger, and uncoiling it again, his repose was 
 suddenly disturbed by the appearance of Bridget herself, accompanied 
 by Shan More, and a shrimp of a man in rusty black, who turned out 
 to be a shabby attorney, who advanced money to convey his lady 
 client and her brother to London for the purpose of making a dash at 
 the lord at once, and securing a handsome sum by a coup de main. 
 
 Andy, though taken by surprise, was resolute. Bitter words were 
 exchanged ; and as they seemed likely to lead to blows, Andy prudently 
 laid hold of the poker, and, in language not quite suited to a noble 
 lord, swore he would see what the inside of Shan Mores, head was 
 made of, if he attempted to advance upon him. Bridget screamed and 
 scolded, while the attorney endeavoured to keep the peace, and 
 beyond every thing, urged lord Scatterbrain to enter at once into 
 written engagements for a handsome settlement upon his "lady." 
 
 " Lady ! " exclaimed Andy ; " oh ! — a pretty lady she is ! " 
 
 " T'm as good a lady as you are a lord, any how," cried Bridget. 
 
360 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 " Altercation will do no good, my lord and my lady," said the 
 attorney ; " let me suggest the propriety of your writing an engage- 
 ment at once ;" and the little man pushed pen, ink, and paper towards 
 Andy. 
 
 " I can't, I tell you ! " cried Andy. 
 
 " You must ! " roared Shan More. 
 
 " Bad luck to you, how can I write when I never lamed?" cried 
 Andy. 
 
 " Your lordship can make your mark," said the attorney. 
 
 ° Faith I can — with a poker," cried Andy ; " and you'd better take 
 care, masther parchment. Make my mark, indeed ! — do you think I'd 
 disgrace the House o' Peers by lettin' on that a lord couldn't write ? — 
 Quit the buildin', I tell you ! " 
 
 In the midst of the row, which now rose to a tremendous pitch, 
 Dick returned ; and after a severe reprimand to the pettifogger for his 
 sinister attempt on Andy, referred him to Lord Scatterbrain's solicitor. 
 It was not such an easy matter to silence Bridget, who extended her 
 claws towards her lord and master in a very menacing manner, calling 
 down bitter imprecations on her own head if she wouldn't " have her 
 rights." 
 
 Every now and then between the bursts of the storm, Andy would 
 exclaim " Get out ! " 
 
 " My lord," said Dick, " remember your dignity." 
 
 " Av course ! " said Andy — " but still she must get out !" 
 
 The house was at last cleared of the uproarious party ; but though 
 Andy got rid of their presence, they left their sting behind. Lord 
 Scatterbrain felt, for the first time, that a lord can be very unhappy. 
 
 Dick hurried him away at once to the chambers of the law agent, but 
 he, being closeted on some very important business with another client 
 on their arrival, returned an answer to their application for a confer- 
 ence, which they forwarded through the double doors of his sanctum 
 by a hard-looking man with a pen behind his ear, that he could not 
 have the pleasure of seeing them till the next morning. Lord Scatter- 
 brain passed a more unhappy night than he had ever done in his life, — 
 even than that when he was tied up to the old tree — croaked at by 
 ravens, and the despised of rats. 
 
 Negotiations were opened next day between the pettifogger on 
 Bridget's side and the law agent of the noble lord, and the arguments, 
 pro and con, lay thus : — 
 
 In the first place, the opening declaration was — Lord Scatterbrain 
 never would live with the aforesaid Bridget. 
 
 Answered — that nevertheless, as she was his lawful wife, a provision 
 suitable to her rank must be made. 
 
 They (the claimants) were asked to name a sum. 
 
 The sum was considered exorbitant ; it being argued, that, inasmuch 
 as, when her husband had determined never to live with her, he was in 
 a far different condition, it was unfair to seek so large a separate main- 
 tenance now. 
 
 The pettifogger threatened that Lady Scatterbrain would run in 
 debt, which Lord Scatterbrain must discharge. 
 
HANDY ANDY. 361 
 
 My Lord's agent suggested that my Lady would be advertised in the 
 public papers, and the public cautioned from giving her credit. 
 
 A sum could not be agreed upon, though a fair one was offered on 
 Andy's part ; for the greediness of the pettifogger, who was to have a 
 share of the plunder, made him hold out for more, and negotiations were 
 broken off for some days. 
 
 Poor Andy was in a wretched state of vexation. It was bad enough 
 that he was married to this abominable woman, without the additional 
 plague of being persecuted by her. To such an amount this rose at 
 last, that she and her big brother dodged him every time he left the 
 house, so that in self-defence he was obliged to become a close prisoner 
 in his own lodgings. 
 
 All this, at last, became so intolerable to the captive, that he urged a 
 speedy settlement of the vexatious question, and a larger separate 
 maintenance was granted to the detestable woman than would otherwise 
 have been ceded, the only stipulation of a stringent nature made, 
 being, that Lord Scatterbrain should be free from the persecutions of 
 his hateful wife for the future. 
 
;G2 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 CHAPTER XLIX. 
 
 Squire Egan, with his lady, and Fanny Dawson, had now arrived 
 in London ; Murtough Murphy, too, had joined them, his services heing 
 requisite in working the petition against the return of the sitting 
 member for the county. This had so much promise of success about 
 it, that the opposite party, who had the sheriff for the county in their 
 interest, bethought of a novel expedient to frustrate the petition, when 
 a reference to the poll was required. 
 
 They declared the principal poll book was lost. 
 
 This seemed not very satisfactory to one side of the committee, and 
 the question was asked, " how could it be lost?" 
 
 The answer was one which Irish contrivance alone could have 
 invented : " It fell into a pot of broth, and the dog ate it*'* 
 
 This protracted the contest for some time ; but, eventually, in despite 
 of the dog's devouring knowledge so greedily, the Squire was declared 
 duly elected, and took the oaths and his seat for the county. 
 
 It was hard on Sackville Scatterbrain to lose his seat in the house, 
 and a peerage, nearly at once ; but the latter loss threw the former so 
 far into the shade, that he scarcely felt it. Besides, he could console 
 himself with having buttered his crumbs pretty well in the marriage 
 market, and, with a rich wife, retired from senatorial drudgery to 
 private repose, which was much more congenial to his easy temper. 
 
 But while the Squire's happy family circle was rejoicing in his 
 triumph ; while he was invited to the Speaker's dinners, and the ladies 
 were looking forward to tickets for " the lantern," their pleasure was 
 suddenly dashed by fatal news from Ireland. 
 
 A serious accident had befallen Major Dawson — so serious, that his 
 life was despaired of; and an immediate return to Ireland by all who 
 were interested in his life, was the consequence. 
 
 Though the suddenness of this painful event shocked his family, the act 
 which caused it did not surprise them; for it was one against which Major 
 Dawson had been repeatedly cautioned, and affectionately requested 
 not to tempt ; but the habitual obstinacy of his nature prevailed, and he 
 persisted in doing that which his son, and his daughters, and friends, 
 prophesied would kill him some time or other, and did, at last. The 
 Major had three little iron guns, mounted on carriages, on a terrace 
 in front of his house ; and it was his wont to fire a salute on certain 
 festival days from these guns, which, from age and exposure to wea- 
 ther, became dangerous to use. It was in vain that this danger was 
 represented to him. He would reply, with his accustomed "pooh! 
 pooh !" — " I have been firing these guns for forty years, and they won't 
 do me any harm now." 
 
 * IF not this identical answer, something very like it was given on a disputed Irish 
 flection, before a Committee of the House of Commons. 
 
HANDY ANDY. 363 
 
 This was the prime fault of the Major's character. Time and 
 circumstances were never taken into account by him ; what was done 
 once, might be done always — ought to be done always. The bare 
 thought of change of any sort, to him, was unbearable ; and whether 
 it was a rotten old law, or a rotten old gun, he would charge both up 
 to the muzzle, and fire away, regardless of consequences. 
 
 The result was, that on a certain festival, his favourite gun burst in 
 the act of exploding ; and the last mortal act of which the Major was 
 conscious, was that of putting the port-fire to the touchhole, for a heavy 
 splinter of the iron struck him on the head, and though he lived for 
 some days afterwards, he was insensible. 
 
 Before his children arrived, he was no more ; and the only duty 
 left them to perform, was the melancholy one of ordering his funeral. 
 
 The obsequies of the old Major were honoured by a large and dis- 
 tinguished attendance from all parts of the country ; and amongst 
 those who bore the pall, was Edward O'Connor, who had the melan- 
 choly gratification of testifying his respect beside the grave of Fanny's 
 father, though the severe old man had banished him from his presence 
 during his lifetime. 
 
 But now all obstacle to the union of Edward and Fanny was 
 removed ; and after the lapse of a few days had softened the bitter 
 grief, which this sudden bereavement of her father had produced, 
 Edward received a note from Dick, inviting him to the manor house, 
 where all would be glad to see him. 
 
 In a few minutes after the receipt of that note, Edward was in his 
 saddle, and swiftly leaving the miles behind him, till, from the top of 
 a rising ground, the roof of the manor house appeared above the trees 
 in which it was embosomed. He had not till then slackened his speed, 
 but now drawing rein, he proceeded at a slower pace towards the house 
 he had not entered for some years, and the sight of which awakened 
 such varied emotions. 
 
 To return after long years of painful absence to some place which has 
 been the scene of our former joys, and whence tlie force of circum- 
 stance, and not choice, has driven us, is oppressive to the heart. There 
 is a mixed sense of regret and rejoicing, which struggle for predo- 
 minance ; we rejoice that our term of exile has expired, but we regret 
 the years which that exile has deducted from the brief amount of 
 human life, never to be recalled, and therefore as so much lost to us. 
 We think of the wrong or the caprice of which we have been the 
 victims, and thoughts will stray across the most confiding heart, if 
 friends shall meet as fondly as they parted ; or if time, while impressing 
 deeper marks upon the outward form, may have obliterated some 
 impressions within. Who has returned, after years of absence, however 
 assured of the unflinching fidelity of love he left behind, without saying 
 to himself, in the pardonable yearning of affection, " Shall I meet smiles 
 as bright as those that used to welcome me ? Shall I be pressed as 
 fondly within the arms, whose encompassment were to me the pale of 
 all earthly enjoyment ?"' 
 
 Such thoughts crowded on Edward as he approached the house. 
 There was not a lane, or tree, or hedge, by the way, that had not for 
 
36 i HANDY ANDY. 
 
 him its association. He reached the avenue gate ; as he flung it open, 
 he remembered the last time he passed it, Fanny leaned on his arm. 
 He felt himself so much excited, that, instead of riding up to the house, 
 he took the private path to the stables, and throwing the reins of his 
 horse to a boy, he turned into a shubbery, and endeavoured to recover 
 his self-command before he should present himself. As he emerged 
 from the sheltered path, and turned into a walk which led to the garden, 
 a small conservatory was opened to his view, awaking fresh sensations. 
 It was in that very place he had first ventured to declare his love to 
 Fanny. There she heard, and frowned not ; — there, where nature's 
 choicest sweets were exhaling, he had first pressed her to his heart, and 
 thought the balmy sweetness of her lips beyond them all. He hurried 
 forward in the enthusiasm the recollection recalled, to enter that spot 
 consecrated in his memory ; but, on arriving at the door, he suddenly 
 stopped, for he saw Fanny within. She was plucking a geranium — 
 the flower she had been plucking some years before, when Edward said 
 he loved her. She, all that morning, had been under the influence of 
 feelings similar to Edward's ; had felt the same yearnings — the same 
 tender doubts — the same fond solicitude that he should be the same 
 Edward from whom she parted. But she thought of more than this ; 
 with the exquisitely delicate contrivance belonging to woman's nature, 
 she wished to give him a signal of her fond recollection, and was 
 plucking the flower she gathered, when he declared his love, to place 
 on her bosom when they should meet. Edward felt the meaning of 
 her action, as the graceful hand broke the flower from its stem. He 
 would have rushed towards her at once, but that the deep mourning in 
 which she was arrayed seemed to command a gentler approach ; for 
 grief commands respect. He advanced softly — she heard a gentle step 
 behind her, and turned — uttered a faint exclamation of joy, and sank 
 into his arms ! 
 
 In a few moments she was restored to consciousness, and opening 
 her sweet eyes upon him, breathed softly, " dear Edward!" — and the 
 lips which, in two words, had expressed so much, were impressed with 
 a fervent kiss, in the blessed consciousness of possession, on that very 
 spot where the first timid and doubting word of love had been spoken. 
 
 In that moment he was rewarded for all his years of absence and 
 anxiety. His heart was satisfied ; — he felt he was as dear as ever to 
 the woman he idolized, and the short and hurried beating of both their 
 hearts told more than words could express. Words !— what were 
 words to them? — thought was too swift for their use, and feeling 
 too strong for their utterance ; but they drank from each other's eyes 
 large draughts of delight, and, in the silent pressure of each other's 
 welcoming embrace, felt how truly they loved each other. 
 
 He led her gently from the conservatory, and they exchanged words 
 of affection " soft and low," as they sauntered through the wooded 
 paths which surrounded the house. That live-long day they wandered 
 up and down together, repeating again and again the anxious yearnings 
 which occupied their years of separation, yet asking each other, was 
 not all more than repaid by the gladness of the present — 
 
 " Yet how painful has been the past !" exclaimed Edward. 
 
HANDY ANDY. 3G5 
 
 '■ But now /" said Fanny, with a gentle pressure of her tiny hand on 
 Edward's arm, and looking up to him with her bright eyes — " but now ! " 
 
 " True, darling!" he cried; " 'tis ungrateful to think of the past, 
 while enjoying such a present, and with such a future before me. 
 Bless that cheerful heart, and those hope-inspiring glances ! Oh, Fanny ! 
 in the wilderness of life there are springs and palm-trees— you are both 
 to me ! and Heaven has set its own mark upon you, in those laughing 
 blue eyes, which might set despair at defiance." 
 
 " Poetical as ever, Edward!'' said Fanny, laughing. 
 
 " Sit down, dearest, for a moment, on this old tree, beside me ; 'tis 
 not the first time I have strung rhymes in your presence, and your praise." 
 
 He took a small note-book from his pocket, and Fanny looked on 
 smilingly, as Edward's pencil rapidly ran over the leaf, and traced the 
 lover's tribute to his mistress. 
 
 Qfyz gbtmsfifne In You. 
 i. 
 
 It is sweet when we look round the wide world's waste, 
 
 To know that the desert bestows 
 The palms where the weary heart may rest, 
 The spring that in purity flows. 
 
 And where have I found 
 
 In this wilderness round 
 That spring and that shelter so true ; 
 
 Unfailing in need, 
 
 And my own, indeed ? — 
 Oh! dearest, I've found it in you! 
 
 n. 
 And, oh when the cloud of some darkening hour 
 
 O'ershadows the soul with its gloom, 
 Then where is the light of the vestal pow'r, 
 The lamp of pale Hope to illume? 
 Oh! the light ever lies 
 In those bright fond eyes, 
 Where Heaven has impress' d its own blue, 
 As a seal from the skies ; 
 And my heart relies 
 On that gift of its sunshine in you! 
 
 Fanny liked the lines, of course. " Dearest," she said, " may I 
 always prove sunshine to you ! Is it not a strange coincidence that 
 these lines exactly fit a little air which occurred to me some time ago? " 
 
 " 'Tis odd," said Edward; — " sing it to me, darling." 
 
 Fanny took the verses from his hand, and sung them to her own 
 measure. Oh, happy triumph of the poet ! — to hear his verses wedded 
 to sweet sounds, and warbled by the woman he loves ! 
 
 Edward caught up the strain, and added his voice to hers in har- 
 mony, and they sauntered homewards, trolling their ready-made duet 
 together. 
 
 There were not two happier hearts in the world that day, than those 
 cf Fanny Dawson and Edward O'Connor. 
 
M6 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 CHAPTER L 
 
 Respect for the memory of Major Dawson of course prevented the 
 immediate marriage of Edward and Fanny ; but. the winter months 
 passed cheerfully away in looking forward to the following autumn, 
 which should witness the completion of their happiness. Though 
 Edward was thus tempted by the society of the one he loved best in the 
 world, it did not make him neglect the duties he had undertaken in behalf 
 of Gustavus. Not only did he prosecute his reading with him regularly, 
 but took no small pains in looking after the involved affairs of the 
 family, and strove to make satisfactory arrangements with those whose 
 claims were gnawing away the estate to nothing. Though the years of 
 Gusty's minority were but few, still they would give the estate some 
 breathing time ; and creditors, seeing the minor backed by a man of 
 character, and convinced a sincere desire existed to relieve the estate 
 of its encumbrances and pay all just claims, presented a less threatening 
 front than hitherto, and listened readily to such terms of accom- 
 modation as were proposed to them. Uncle Robert (for the breaking of 
 whose neck Ratty's pious aspirations had been raised) behaved very well 
 on the occasion. A loan from him, and a partial sale of some of the acres, 
 stopped the mouths of the greedy wolves who fatten on men's ruin, and 
 time and economy were looked forward to for the discharge of all other 
 debts. Uncle Robert, having so far acted the friend, was considered 
 entitled to have a partial voice in the ordering of things at the Hall ; 
 and having a notion that an English accent was genteel, he desired that 
 Gusty and Ratty should pass a year under the roof of a clergyman in 
 England, who received a limited number of young gentlemen for the 
 completion of their education. Gustavus would much rather have 
 remained near Edward O'Connor, who had already done so much for 
 him ; but Edward, though he regretted parting with Gustavus, recom- 
 mended him to accede to his uncle's wishes, though he did not see the 
 necessity of an Irish gentleman being ashamed of his accent. 
 
 The visit to England, however, was postponed till the spring, and 
 the winter months were used by Gustavus in availing himself as much 
 as he could of Edward's assistance in putting him through his classics, 
 his pride prompting him to present himself creditably to the English 
 clergyman. 
 
 It was in vain to plead such pride to Ratty, who paid more attention 
 to shooting than his lessons. 
 
HANDY ANDY. 3fi7 
 
 His mother strove to persuade — Ratty was deaf. 
 His " gran" strove to bribe — Ratty was incorruptible. 
 Gusty argued — Ratty answered after his own fashion. 
 " Why won't you learn even a little ?" 
 
 " I'm to go to that - English fellow' in spring, and I shall have no 
 fun then, so I'm making good use of my time now." 
 
 " Do you call it 'good use' to be so dreadfully idle and shamefully 
 ignorant." 
 
 " Bother! — the less I know, the more the English fellow will have to 
 teach me, and uncle Bob will have more worth for his money ;" and then 
 Ratty would whistle a jig, fling a fowling-piece over his shoulder, 
 shout " Ponto ! Ponto ! Ponto !" as he traversed the stable-yard ; the 
 delighted pointer would come bounding at the call, and after circling 
 round his young master with agile grace and yelps of glee at the sight 
 of the gun, dash forward to the well-known " bottoms" in eager ex- 
 pectancy of ducks and snipe. 
 
 How fared it all this time with the lord of Scatterbrain ? 
 He became established, for the present, in a house that had been a 
 long time to let in the neighbourhood, and his mother was placed at the 
 head of it, and Oonah still remained under his protection, though the 
 daily sight of the girl added to Andy's grief at the desperate plight in 
 which his ill-starred marriage placed him, to say nothing of the constant 
 annoyance of his mother's growling at him for his making " such a 
 judy" of himself; for the dowager lady Scatterbrain could not get rid of 
 her vocabulary at once. Andy's only resource under these circumstances 
 was to mount his horse, and fly. 
 
 As for the dowager lady, she had a carriage with " a picture" on it, 
 as she called the coat of arms, and was fond of driving past the houses 
 of people who had been uncivil to her. Against Mrs. Casey (the 
 renowned Matty Dwyer) she entertained an especial spite, in con- 
 sideration of her treatment of her beautiful boy and her own pair of 
 black eyes ; so she determined to " pay her off" in her own way, and 
 stopping one day at the hole in the hedge which served for entrance to 
 the estate of the " three-cornered field," she sent the footman in to say 
 the dowjer Lady Scatterireera wanted to speak with " Casey's wife." 
 
 When the servant, according to instructions, delivered this message, 
 he was sent back with the answer, that if any lady wanted to see 
 Casey's wife, " Casey's wife" was at home. 
 
 " Oh, go back, and tell the poor woman I don't want to bring her to 
 the door of my carriage, if its inconvaynient. I only wished to give her 
 a little help ; and tell her if she sends up eggs to the big house, Lady 
 Scatterbreen will pay her for them." 
 
 When the servant delivered this message, Matty grew outrageous at 
 the means " my lady" took of crowing over her, and rushing to the 
 door, with her face flushed with rage, roared out, " Tell the old baggage 
 I want none of her custom ; let her lay eggs for herself!" 
 
 The servant staggered back in amaze ; and Matty, feeling he would 
 not deliver her message, ran to the hole in the hedge, and repeated her 
 answer to my lady herself, with a great deal more which need not be 
 recorded. Suffice it to say, my lady thought it necessary to pull up 
 
368 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 the glass, against which Matty threw a handful of mud ; the servant 
 jumped up on his perch behind the carriage, which was rapidly driven 
 away by the coachman, but not so fast that Matty could not, by dint of 
 running, keep it " within range" for some seconds, during which time 
 she contrived to pelt both coachman and footman with mud, and leave 
 her mark on their new livery. This was a salutary warning to the old 
 woman, who was more cautious in her demonstrations of grandeur for 
 the future. 
 
 If she was stinted in the enjoyment of her new-born dignity abroad, 
 she could indulge it at home without let or hindrance, and to this end 
 asked Andy to let her have a hundred pounds, in one pound notes, for a 
 particular purpose. What this purpose was no one was told or could 
 guess, but for a good while after she used to be closeted by herself for 
 several hours during the day. 
 
 Andy had his hours of retirement also, for wilh praiseworthy industry 
 he strove hard, poor fellow, to lift himself above the state of ignorance, 
 and had daily attendance from the parish schoolmaster. The mysteries of 
 " pothooks and hangers" and A B C weighed heavily on the nobleman's 
 mind, which must have sunk under the burden of scholarship and pen- 
 manship, but for the other " ship," — the horsemanship, — which was 
 Andy's daily self-established reward for his perseverance in his lessons. 
 Besides, he really could ride ; and as it was the only accomplishment of 
 which he was master, it was no wonder he enjoyed the display of it ; 
 and to say the truth, he did, and that on a first-rate horse too. Having 
 appointed Murtough Murphy his law-agent, he often rode over to the 
 town to talk with him, and as Murtough could have some fun and thir- 
 teen and four-pence also per visit, he was always glad to see his " noble 
 friend." The high road did not suit Andy's notion of things ; he pre- 
 ferred the variety, shortness, and diversion of going across the country 
 on these occasions ; and in one of these excursions, in the most secluded 
 portion of his ride, which unavoidably lay through some quarries and deep 
 broken ground, he met " Ragged Nance," who held up her finger as he 
 approached the gorge of this lonely dell, in token that she would speak 
 with him. Andy pulled up. 
 
 " Long life to you, my lord," said Nance, dropping a deep curtsey, 
 " and sure I always liked you since the night you was so bowld for the 
 sake of the poor girl, — the young lady, I mane, now, God bless her, — 
 and I just wish to tell you, my lord, that I think you might as well not 
 be going these lonely ways, for I see them hanging about here betimes, 
 that may be it would not be good for your health to meet ; and sure, my 
 lord, it would be a hard case if you were killed now, havin' the luck o' 
 the sick calf that lived all the winther and died in the summer." 
 
 "Is it that big blackguard Shan More you mane ?" said Andy. 
 
 " No less," said Nance — growing deadly pale as she cast a piercing 
 glance into the dell, and cried in a low hurried tone — " Talk o' the 
 divil — there he is — I see him peep out from behind a rock." 
 
 " He's runing this way," said Andy. 
 
 " Then you run the other way," said Nance — " look there — I seen 
 him strive to hide a blunderbuss under his coat — gallop off, for the love 
 o' God ! or there'll be murther." 
 
, s/r. , (y.\ j. ■■,,/"■ . 
 
 • i ■ " '■ i -"-'. L " |: 
 
HANDY ANDY. 369 
 
 " Maybe there will be that same," said Andy, "if I leave you here, 
 and he suspects you gave me the hard word."* 
 
 " Never mind me," said Nance, "save yourself — see, he's moving fast, 
 he'll be near enough to you soon to fire." 
 
 " Get up behind me, said Andy — I wont leave you here." 
 
 " Run, I tell you." 
 
 "I won't." 
 
 " God bless you, then," said the woman, as Andy held out his hand 
 and gripped hers firmly. 
 
 " Put your foot on mine," said Andy. 
 
 The woman obeyed, and was soon seated behind our hero, gripping 
 him fast by the waist, while he pushed his horse to a fast canter. 
 
 " Hold hard, now," said Andy, " for there's a stiff jump here." As 
 he approached the ditch of which he spoke, two men sprang up from it, 
 and one fired, as Andy cleared the leap in good style, Nance holding on 
 gallantly. The horse was not many strokes on the opposite side, when 
 another shot was fired in their rear, followed by a scream from the woman. 
 To Andy's inquiry if she was " kilt" she replied in the negative, but said 
 " they hurt her sore," and she was "bleeding a power'" — but that she could 
 still hold on however, and urged him to speed. The clearance of one 
 or two more leaps gave her grievous pain ; but a large common soon 
 opened before them, which was skirted by a road leading directly 
 to a farm house, where Andy left the wounded woman, and then 
 galloped for medical aid : this soon arrived, and the wound was found 
 not to be dangerous, though painful. The bullet had struck and 
 pierced a tin vessel of a bottle form, in which Nance carried the liquid 
 gratuities of the charitable, and this not only deadened the force of the 
 ball, but glanced it also ; and the escapement of the buttermilk which the 
 vessel contained, Nance had mistaken for the effusion of her own 
 blood. It was a clear case, however, that if Nance had not been sitting 
 behind Andy, Lord Scatterbrain would have been a dead man, so that 
 his gratitude and gallantry towards the poor beggar woman proved the 
 means of preserving his own life. 
 
 * " Hard word" implies a caution. 
 
370 HANDY 'ANDY, 
 
 CHAPTER LI 
 
 The news of the attack on Lord Scatterbrain ran over the country, like 
 wildfire, and his conduct throughout the affair raised his character 
 wonderfully in the opinion of all classes. Many who had hitherto held 
 aloof from the mushroom lord, came forward to recognise the manly 
 fellow, and cards were left at " the big house," which were never seen 
 there before. The magistrates were active in the affair, and a reward 
 immediately offered for the apprehension of the offenders ; but before 
 any active steps could be taken by the authorities, Andy, immediately 
 after the attack, collected a few stout fellows himself, and knowing 
 where the den of Shan and his miscreants lay, he set off at the head of 
 his party to try if he could not secure them himself; — but before he did 
 this, he despatched a vehicle to the farm house, where poor Nance lay 
 wounded, with orders that she should be removed to his own house, 
 the doctor having said the transit would not be injurious. 
 
 A short time served to bring Andy and his followers to the private 
 still, where a little looking about enabled them to discover the entrance, 
 which was covered by some large stones, and a bunch of furze placed 
 as a mask to the opening. It was clear that it was impossible for any per- 
 sons inside to have thus covered the entrance, and it suggested the possi- 
 bility that some of its usual inmates were then absent. Nevertheless, 
 having such desperate characters to deal with, it was a service of danger 
 to be leader in the descent to the cavern when the opening was cleared ; 
 but Andy was the first to enter, which he did boldly, only desiring his 
 attendants to follow him quickly, and give him support in case of re- 
 sistance. A lantern had been provided, Andy knowing the darkness of 
 the den ; and the party was thereby enabled to explore with celerity and 
 certainty the hidden haunt of the desperadoes. The ashes of the fire 
 were yet warm, but no one was to be seen, till Andy, drawing the screen 
 of the bed, discovered a man lying in a seemingly helpless state, breathing 
 with difficulty, and the straw about him dabbled with blood. On at- 
 temping to lift him, the wretch groaned heavily and muttered, " D — n 
 you, let me alone — you've done for me — I'm dying." 
 
 The man was gently carried from the cave to the open air, which 
 seemed slightly to revive him — his eyes opened heavily, butclosed again — 
 yet still he breathed. His wound was stanched as well as the limited means 
 and knowledge of the parties present allowed ; and the ladder, drawn up 
 from the cave and overlaid with tufts of heather, served to bear the 
 
HANDY ANDY. 371 
 
 sufferer to the nearest house, whence Andy ordered a mounted messenger 
 to hurry for a doctor. The man seemed to hear what was going for- 
 ward, for he faintly muttered " the priest, — the priest." 
 
 Andy, anxious to procure this most essential comfort to the dying man, 
 went himself in search of Father Blake, whom he found at home, and 
 who suggested that a magistrate might be also useful upon the occasion ; 
 and as Merryvale lay not much out of the way, Andy made a detour to 
 obtain the presence of Squire Egan, while Father Blake pushed directly 
 onward upon his^ghostly mission. 
 
 Andy and the Squire arrived soon after the priest had administered 
 spiritual comfort to the sufferer, who still retained sufficient strength to 
 make his depositions before the Squire, the purport of which turned out 
 to be of the utmost importance to Andy. 
 
 This man, it appeared, was the husband of Br id 'get, who had returned 
 from transportation, and sought his wife and her dear brother and his 
 former lawless associates, on reaching Ireland. On finding Bridget had 
 married again, his anger at her infidelity was endeavoured to be 
 appeased by the representations made to him that it was a " good 
 job," inasmuch as " the lord" had been screwed out of a good sum of 
 money by way of separate maintenance, and that he would share the 
 advantage of that. When matters were more explained, however, and 
 the convict found this money was divided among so many, who all 
 claimed right of share in the plunder, his discontent returned. In the 
 first place, the pettifogger made a large haul for his services. Shan 
 More swore it was hard if a woman's own brother was not to be the 
 better for her luck ; and Larry Ilogan claimed hush-money, for he 
 could prove Bridget's marriage, and so upset their scheme of plunder. 
 The convict maintained, his claim as husband was stronger than any ; 
 but this, all the others declared, was an outlandish notion he brought 
 back with him from foreign parts, and did not prevail in their code of 
 laws by any manner of means ; and even went so far as to say, they 
 thought it hard, after they had " done the job," that he was to come in 
 and lessen their profit, which he would, as they were willing to give 
 an even share of the spoil ; and after that he must be the most discon- 
 tented villain in the world if he was not pleased. 
 
 The convict feigned contentment, but meditated at once revenge 
 against his wife and the gang, and separate profit for himself. He 
 thought he might stipulate for a good round sum from Lord Scatter- 
 brain, as he could prove him free of his supposed matrimonial engage- 
 ment, and inwardly resolved he would soon pay a visit to his lordship. 
 But his intentions were suspected by the gang, and a strict watch set 
 upon him ; and though his dissimulation and contrivance were of no 
 inferior order, Larry Hogan was his overmatch, and the convict w r as 
 detected in having been so near Lord Scatterbrain's dwelling, that 
 they feared their secret, if not already revealed, was no longer to be 
 trusted to their new confederate's keeping ; and it was deemed advisable 
 to knock him on the head and shoot my Lord, which they thought 
 would prevent all chance of the invalidity of the marriage being dis- 
 covered, and secure- the future payment of the maintenance. 
 
 How promptly the murderous determination was acted upon the pre- 
 
 B b 2 
 
372 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 ceding events prove. Andy's courage in the first part of the affair 
 saved his life ; his promptness in afterwards seeking to secure the 
 offenders, led to the important discovery he had just made ; and as the 
 convict's depositions could be satisfactorily backed by proofs which he 
 showed the means of obtaining, Andy was congratulated heartily by the 
 Squire and Father Blake, and rode home in almost delirious delight 
 at the prospect of making Oonah his wife. On reaching the stables 
 he threw himself from his saddle, let the horse make his own way to 
 his stall, dashed through the back hall, and nearly broke his neck in 
 tumbling up stairs, burst open the drawing-room door, and made a rush 
 upon Oonah, whom he hugged and kissed most outrageously, amidst 
 exclamations of the wildest affection. 
 
 Oonah, half strangled and struggling for breath, at last freed herself 
 from his embraces, and asked him angrily what he was about — in 
 which inquiry she was backed by his mother. 
 
 Andy answered by capering round the room, shouting " Hurroo ! 
 I'm not married at all — Hurroo !" He turned over the chairs, upset 
 the tables, threw the mantel-piece ornaments into the fire, seized the 
 poker and tongs and banged them together as he continued dancing 
 and shouting. 
 
 Oonah and his mother stood gazing at his antics in trembling 
 amazement, till at last the old woman exclaimed, " Holy Vargin, he's 
 gone mad !" whereupon she and her niece set up a violent screaming, 
 which called Andy back to his propriety, and, as well as his excitement 
 would permit, he told them the cause of his extravagant joy. 
 
 His wonder and delight were shared by his mother and the blushing 
 Oonah, who did not struggle so hard in Andy's embrace on his making 
 a second vehement demonstration of his love for her. 
 
 " Let me send for Father Blake, my jewel," said Andy, " and I'll 
 marry you at once." 
 
 His mother reminded him he must first have his present marriage 
 proved invalid. 
 
 Andy uttered several pieces of original eloquence on " the law's 
 delay." " Well, any how," said he, " I'll drink your health, my dar- 
 ling girl, this day, as Lady Scatterbrain — for you must consider your- 
 self as sitch." 
 
 " Behave yourself, my lord," said Oonah, archly. 
 
 " Bother!" cried Andy, snatching another kiss. 
 
 " Hillo ! " cried Dick Dawson, entering at the moment, and seeing 
 the romping match — " You're losing no time, I see, Andy." 
 
 Oonah was running from the room, laughing and blushing, when 
 Dick interposed, and cried, " Ah, don't go, * my lady,' that is to be." 
 
 Oonah slapped down the hand that barred her progress, exclaiming, 
 " You're just as bad as he is, Mister Dawson ! " and ran away. 
 
 Dick had ridden over, on hearing the news, to congratulate Andy, 
 and consented to remain and dine with him. Oonah had rather, after 
 what had taken place, he had not been there, for Dick backed Andy 
 in his tormenting the girl, and joined heartily in drinking to Andy's 
 toast, which, according to promise, he gave to the health of the future 
 Lady Scatterbrain. 
 
HANDY ANDY. 373 
 
 It was impossible to repress Andy's wild delight ; and in the excite- 
 ment of the hour he tossed off bumper after bumper to all sorts of love- 
 making toasts, till he was quite overcome by his potations, and fit for 
 no place but bed. To this last retreat of "the glorious" he was 
 requested to retire, and, after much coaxing, consented. He staggered 
 over to the window curtain, which he mistook for that of the bed ; in 
 vain they wanted to lead him elsewhere — he would sleep in no other 
 bed but that — and, backing out at the window pane, he made a smash, 
 of which he seemed sensible, for he said it wasn't a fair trick to put 
 pins in his bed. 
 
 " I know it was Oonah did that ! — hip ! — ha ! ha ! Lady Scatter- 
 brain ! — never mind! — hip ! — I'll have my revenge on you yet." 
 
 They could not get him up-stairs, so his mother suggested he should 
 sleep in her room, which was on the same floor, for that night, and at 
 last he was got into the apartment. There he was assisted to disrobe, 
 as he stood swaying about at a dressing-table. Chancing to lay his 
 hands on a pill-box, he mistook it for his watch — 
 
 " Stop — stop ! " he stammered forth — " I must wind my watch ;" 
 and, suiting the action to the word, he began twisting about the pill- 
 box, the lid of which came off and the pills fell about the floor. " Oh 
 murder ! " said Lord Scatterbrain, " the works of my watch are fallin' 
 about the dure — pick them up — pick them up — pick them up — " He 
 could speak no more, and becoming quite incapable of all voluntary 
 action, was undressed and put to bed, the last sounds which escaped 
 him being a faint muttering of — " pick them up ! " 
 
S74 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 CHAPTER THE LAST. 
 
 The day following the eventful one just recorded, the miserable convict 
 breathed his last. A printed notice was posted in all the adjacent vil- 
 lages, offering a reward for the apprehension of Shan More and " other 
 persons unknown," for their murderous assault ; and a small reward was 
 promised for such " private information as might lead to the apprehen- 
 sion of the aforesaid," &c. &c. Larry Hogan at once came forward 
 and put the authorities on the scent, but still Shan and his accom- 
 plices remained undiscovered. Larry's information on another subject, 
 however, was more effective. He gave his own testimony to the pre- 
 vious marriage of Bridget, and pointed out the means of obtaining 
 more, so that, ere long, Lord Scatterbrain was a " free man." Though 
 the depositions of the murdered man did not directly implicate Larry in 
 the murderous attack, still it showed that he had participated in much 
 of their villainy ; but as, in difficult cases, we must put up with bad 
 instruments to reach the ends of justice, so this rascal was useful for 
 his evidence and private information, and got his reward. 
 
 But he got his reward in more ways than one. He knew that he 
 dare not longer remain in the country after what had taken place, and 
 set off directly for Dublin by the mail, intending to proceed to England ; 
 — but England he never reached. As he was proceeding down the Cus- 
 tom House Quay in the dusk of the evening, to get on ship-board, his 
 arms were suddenly seized and drawn behind him by a powerful grasp, 
 while a woman in front drew a handkerchief across his mouth, and 
 stifled his attempted cries. His bundle was dragged from him, and 
 the woman ransacked his pockets ; but they contained but a few shil- 
 lings, Larry having hidden the wages of his treachery to his confederates 
 in the folds of his neck-cloth. To pluck this from his throat many a 
 fierce wrench was made by the woman, when her attempt on the pockets 
 proved worthless ; but the handkerchief was knotted so tightly that she 
 could not disengage it. The approach of some passengers along the 
 quay alarmed the assailants of Larry, who, ere the iron grip released 
 him, heard a deep curse in his ear growled by a voice he well knew, 
 and then felt himself hurled with gigantic force from the quay wall. 
 Before the base, cheating, faithless scoundrel could make one exclama- 
 tion, he was plunged into the Liffey — even before one mental aspiration 
 for mercy, he was in the throes of suffocation ! The heavy splash in 
 
HANDY ANDY. 375 
 
 the water caught the attention of those whose approach had alarmed 
 the murderers, and seeing a man and woman running, a pursuit com- 
 menced, which ended by Newgate having two fresh tenants the next day. 
 And so farewell to the entire of the abominable crew, whose evil 
 doings and merited fates have only been recorded when it became 
 necessary to our story. It is better to leave the debased and the pro- 
 fligate in oblivion than drag their doings before the day ; and it is 
 with happy consciousness an Irishman may assert, that there is plenty 
 of subject afforded by Irish character and Irish life honourable to the 
 land, pleasing to the narrator, and sufficiently attractive to the reader, 
 without the unwholesome exaggerations of crime, which too often dis- 
 figure the fictions which pass under the title of " Irish," alike offensive 
 to truth as to taste — alike injurious both for private and public con- 
 siderations 
 
 It was in the following autumn that a particular chariot drove up to 
 the door of the Victoria Hotel, on the shore of Killarney lake. A 
 young man of elegant bearing handed a very charming young lady 
 from that chariot ; and that kindest and most accommodating of hos- 
 tesses, Mrs. F , welcomed the fresh arrival with her good-humoured 
 
 and smiling face. 
 
 "Why, amidst the crowd of arrivals at the Victoria, one chariot 
 should be remarkable beyond another, arose from its quiet elegance, 
 which might strike even a casual observer ; but the intelligent Mrs. 
 
 F saw with half an eye the owners must be high-bred people. To 
 
 the apartments already engaged for them they were shown ; but few 
 minutes were lost within doors where such matchless natural beauty 
 tempted them without. A boat was immediately ordered, and then the 
 newly-arrived visitors were soon on the lake. The boatmen had already 
 worked hard that day, having pulled one party completely round 
 the lakes — no trifling task ; but the hardy fellows again bent to their 
 oars, and made the sleeping waters wake in golden flashes to the sunset, 
 till told they need not pull so hard. 
 
 " Faith, then, we'll plaze you, sir," said the stroke oarsman, with a 
 grin, " for we have had quite enough of it to-day." 
 
 " Do you not think, Fanny," said Edward O'Connor, for it was he 
 who spoke to his bride, " Do you not think 'tis more in unison with 
 the tranquil hour and the coming shadows, to glide softly over the 
 lulled waters ? " 
 
 " Yes," she replied, " it seems almost sacrilege to disturb this hea- 
 venly repose by the slightest dip of the oar — see how perfectly that 
 lovely island is reflected." 
 
 " That is Innisfallin, my lady," said the boatman, hearing her allude 
 to the island, " where the hermitage is." 
 
 As he spoke, a gleam of light sparkled on the island, and was reflected 
 on the water. 
 
 " One might think the hermit was there, too," said Fanny, " and had 
 just lighted a lamp for his vigils." 
 
376 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 " That's the light of the guide that shows the place to the quality, 
 my lady, and lives on the island always in a corner of the ould ruin. 
 And indeed if you'd like to see the island this evening, there's time 
 enough, and 'twould be so much saved out of to-morrow." 
 
 The boatman's advice was acted upon, and as they glided towards 
 the island, Fanny and Edward gazed delightedly on the towering sum- 
 mits of Magillicuddy's reeks, whose spiral pinnacles and graceful decli- 
 vities told out sharply against the golden sky behind them, which, 
 being perfectly reflected in the calm lake, gave the grand chain of 
 mountain the appearance of being suspended in glowing aether, for 
 the lake was one bright amber sheet of light below, and the mountains 
 one massive barrier of shade, till they cut against the light above. 
 The boat touched the shore of Innisfallin, and the delighted pair of 
 visitants hurried to its western point to catch the sunset, lighting 
 with its glory the matchless foliage of this enchanting" spot, where 
 every form of grace exhaustless nature can display is lavished on the 
 arborial richness of the scene, which, in its unequalled luxuriance, 
 gives to a fanciful beholder the idea that the trees themselves have a 
 conscious pleasure in growing there. Oh ! what a witching spot is 
 Innisfallin ! 
 
 Edward had never seen any thing so beautiful in his life ; and with 
 the woman he adored resting on his arm, he quoted the lines which 
 Moore has applied to the Vale of Cashmere, as he asked Fanny would 
 she not like to live there. 
 
 " Would you ? " said Fanny. 
 
 Edward answered — 
 
 " If woman can make the worst wilderness dear, 
 Think — think what a heaven she must make_ of Cashmere !" 
 
 They lingered on the island till the moon arose, and then re- 
 embarked. The silvery light exhibited the lake under another aspect, 
 and as the dimly- discovered forms of the lofty hills rose one above 
 another, tier upon tier, circling the waters in their shadowy frame, the 
 beauty of the scene reached a point of sublimity which might be called 
 holy. As they returned towards the shelving strand, a long row of 
 peeled branches, standing upright in the water, attracted Fanny's atten- 
 tion, and she asked their use — 
 
 " All the use in life, my lady," said the boatman, " for without the 
 same branches, may be its not home to-night you'd get." 
 
 On Fanny inquiring further the meaning of the boatman's answer, 
 she learned that the sticks were placed there to indicate the only 
 channel which permitted a boat to approach the shore on that side of 
 the lake, where the water was shoal, while in other parts the depth had 
 never been fathomed. 
 
 An early excursion on the water was planned for the next morning, 
 and Edward and Fanny were awakened from their slumbers by the 
 tones of the bugle ; a soft Irish melody being breathed by Spillan, 
 followed by a more sportive one from the other minstrel of the lake, 
 Garizy. 
 
HANDY ANDY. 377 
 
 The lake now appeared under another aspect, — the morning sun 
 and morning breeze were upon it, and the sublimity with which the 
 shades of evening had invested the mountains was changed to that of 
 the most varied richness ; for Autumn hung out his gaudy banner on 
 the lofty hills, crowned to their summits with all variety of wood, 
 which, though tinged by the declining year, had scarcely shed one leafy- 
 honour. 
 
 The day was glorious, and the favouring breeze enabled the boat to 
 career across the sparkling lake under canvass, till the overhanging 
 hills of the opposite side robbed them of their aerial wings, and the 
 sail being struck, the boatmen bent to their oars. As they passed 
 under a promontory, clothed from the water's edge to its topmost 
 ridge with the most luxuriant vegetation, it was pointed out to the lady 
 as " the minister's back." 
 
 " 'Tis a strange name," said Fanny. — " Do you know why it is 
 called so?" 
 
 "Faix I dunna, my lady — barrin, that it is the best covered back in 
 the country. But here we come to the aichos," said he — resting on 
 his oars. The example was followed by his fellows, and the bugler 
 lifting his instrument to his lips, gave one long well-sustained blast. 
 It rang across the waters gallantly. It returned in a few seconds, with 
 such unearthly sweetness, as though the spirit of the departed sound 
 had become heavenly and revisited the place where it had expired. 
 
 Fanny and Edward listened breathlessly. 
 
 The bugle gave out its notes again in the well known ' call,' and as 
 sweetly as before the notes were returned distinctly. 
 
 And now a soft and slow and simple melody stole from the exquisitely- 
 played bugle, and phrase after phrase was echoed from the responding 
 hills. How many an emotion stirred within Edward's breast, as the 
 melting music fell upon his ear ! In the midst of matchless beauties he 
 heard the matchless strains of his native land, and the echoes of her old 
 hills responding to the triumphs of her old bards. The air, too, bore 
 with it historic association ; — it told a tale of wrong and of suffering. 
 The wrong has ceased, the suffering is past, but the air which records 
 them still lives. 
 
 " Oh ! triumph of the minstrel !" exclaimed Edward in delight. — 
 " The tyrant crumbles in his coffin, while the song of the bard survives ! 
 The memory of a sceptred ruffian is endlessly branded by a simple 
 strain, while many of the elaborate chronicles of his evil life have passed 
 away and are mouldering like himself." 
 
 Scarcely had the echoes of this exquisite air died away, when the 
 entrancement it carried was rudely broken by one of the lowest tunes 
 being brayed from a bugle in a boat which was seen rounding the head- 
 land of the wooded promontory. 
 
 Edward and Fanny writhed, and put their hands to their ears. 
 " Give way, boys !" said Edward — " for pity's sake get away from these 
 barbarians. — Give way." 
 
 Away sprang the boat. To the boatman's inquiry whether they 
 should stop at " Lady Kenmare's Cottage," Fanny said, no — when she 
 found on inquiry it was a particularly " show-place," being certain the 
 
378 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 vulgar party following, would stop there, and therefore time might be 
 gained in getting ahead from such disagreeable followers. 
 
 Dinas Island, fringed with its lovely woods, excited their admiration 
 as they passed underneath its shadows, and turned into Turk. Lake ; — 
 here the labyrinthine nature of the channels through which they had 
 been winding was changed for a circular expanse of water, over which 
 the lofty mountain, whence it takes it name, towers in all its wild 
 beauty of wood, and rock, and heath. 
 
 At a certain part of the lake the boatmen, without any visible cause, 
 rested on their oars. On Edward asking them why they did not pull, 
 he received this touching answer — 
 
 " Sure your honour would not have us disturb Ned Macarthy's 
 grave !" 
 
 " Then a boatman was drowned here, I suppose," said Edward. 
 
 "Yes, your honour." The boatman then told how the accident 
 occurred ' one day when there was a stag-hunt on the lake ;' but as the 
 anecdote struck Edward so forcibly, that he afterwards recorded it in 
 verse, we will give the story after his fashion. 
 
 J^tacartf^s ©rate, 
 i. 
 
 The breeze was fresh, the moin was fair, 
 The stag had left his dewy lair; 
 To cheering horn and baying tongue, 
 Killarney's echoes sweetly rung. 
 With sweeping oar and bending *^ast, 
 The eager chase was following fast ; 
 When one light skiff a maiden steer'd 
 Beneath the deep wave disappear'd : 
 While shouts of terror wildly ring, 
 A boatman brave, with gallant spring 
 And dauntless, arm, the lady bore — 
 But he who saved — was seen no more ! 
 
 ii. 
 
 Where weeping birches wildly wave, 
 
 There boatmen show their brother's grave ; 
 
 And while they tell the name he bore, 
 
 Suspended hangs the lifted oar: 
 
 The silent drops they idly shed, 
 
 Seem like tears to gallant Ned ; 
 
 And uhile gently gliding by, 
 
 The tale is told with moistened eyt. 
 
 No ripple on the slumb'ring lake 
 
 Unhallowed oar doth ever make 
 
 All undisturb'd, the placid wave 
 
 Flows gently o'er Macarthy's grave. 
 
 Winding backwards through the channels which lead the explorers 
 of this scene of nature's enchantment from the lower to the upper lake, 
 the surpassing beauty of the " Eagle's nest" burst on their view, and as 
 they hovered under its stupendous crags, clustering with all variety of 
 verdure, the bugle and the cannon awoke the almost endless reverberation 
 ■of sound which is engendered here. — Passing onward, a svidden change 
 
/./?///,'■/ 9-/*- /, 
 
 ■ 
 
 
 
 jfa>-~ 
 
HANDY ANDY. 379 
 
 is wrought; — the soft beauty melts gradually away, and the scene 
 hardens into frowning rocks and steep acclivities, making a befitting 
 vestibule to the bold and bleak precipices of " The Reeks," which form 
 the western barrier of this upper lake, whose savage grandeur is rendered 
 more striking by the scenes of fairy-like beauty left behind. But 
 even here, in the midst of the mightiest desolation, the vegetative vigour 
 of the numerous islands proves the wondrous productiveness of the 
 soil in these regions. 
 
 On their return, a great commotion was observable as they ap 
 proached the rapids formed by the descending waters of the upper lake 
 to the lower, and they were hailed and warned by some of the peasants 
 from the shore, that they must not attempt the rapids at present, as a 
 boat, which had been upset, lay athwart the passage. On hearing this, 
 Edward and Fanny were landed above the falls, and walked towards the 
 old bridge, where all was bustle and confusion, as the dripping passengers 
 were dragged safely to shore from the capsized boat, which had been 
 upset by the principal gentleman of the part} r , whose vulgar trumpetings 
 had so disturbed the delight of Edward and Fanny, who soon recog- 
 nised the renowned Andy as the instigator of the bad music and the 
 cause of the accident. Yes, Lord Scatterbrain, true to his original 
 practice, was author of all. 
 
 Nevertheless, he and his party, soused over head and ears as they 
 were, took the thing in good humour, which was unbroken even by the 
 irrepressible laughter which escaped from Edward and Fanny, as they 
 approached and kindly offered assistance. An immediate removal to 
 the neighbouring cottage on Dinas Island was recommended, particularly 
 as Lady Scatterbrain was in a delicate situation, as well, indeed, as 
 Mrs. Durfy, who, with her dear Tom, had joined Lord Scatterbrain's 
 party of pleasure. 
 
 On reaching the cottage, sufficient change of clothes was obtained to 
 prevent evil consequences from the ducking, This, under ordinary 
 circumstances, might not have been easy for so many ; but fortunately 
 Lord Scatterbrain had ordered a complete dinner from the hotel to be 
 served in the cottage, and some of the assistants from the Victoria, who 
 were necessarily present, helped to dress more than the dinner. What 
 between cookmaids and waiters, the care-taker of the cottage and the 
 boatmen, bodies and skirts, jackets and other conveniences, enabled the 
 party to sit down to dinner in company, until fire could mend the mis- 
 take of his lordship. Edward and Fanny courteously joined the party ; 
 and the honour of their company was sensibly felt by Andy and Oonah, 
 who would have borne a ducking a day for the honour of having Fanny 
 and Edward as their guests. Oonah was by nature a nice creature, and 
 adapted herself to her elevated position with a modest ease that was 
 surprising. Even Andy was by this time able to conduct himself tole- 
 rably well at table, only on that particular day he did make a mistake ; 
 for when salmon (which is served at Killarney in all sorts of variety) made 
 its appearance for the first time before the noble lord in the novel form 
 " en papillote," Andy ate paper and all. He refused a second cutlet, 
 however, saying he thought the shin tough. The party, however, passed 
 off mirthfully, the very accident helping the fun ; for instead of any 
 
330 HANDY ANDY. 
 
 one being called by name, the " lady in the jacket," or the " gentleman 
 in the bedgown," were the terms of address ; and, after a merrily spent 
 evening, the beds of the Victoria gave sleep and pleasing dreams to the 
 sojourners at Killarney. 
 
 Kind reader ! the shortening space we have prescribed to our volume, 
 warns us we must draw our story to an end. Nine months after this 
 Killarney excursion, Lord Scatterbrain met Dick Dawson near Mount 
 Eskar, where Lord Scatterbrain had ridden to make certain inquiries 
 about Mrs. O'Connor's health. Dick wore a smiling countenance, and 
 to Andy's inquiry, answered, " All right, and doing as well as can be 
 expected." 
 
 Lord Scatterbrain, wishing to know whether it was a boy or a girl, 
 made the inquiry in the true spirit of Andyism, — " Tell me, Mister 
 Dawson, are you an uncle or an aunt ?" 
 
 Andy's mother died soon after, of the cold caught by her ducking. 
 On her death-bed slie called Oonah to her, and said, " I leave you this 
 quilt, alanna, — 'tis worth more than it appears. The hundred pound 
 notes Andy gave me I quilted into the lining, so that if 1 lived poor all 
 my life till lately, I died under a quilt of bank-notes, any how." 
 
 Uncle Bob was gathered to his fathers also, and left the bulk of his 
 property to Augusta, so that Furlong had to regret his contemptible 
 conduct in rejecting her hand. Augusta indulged in a spite to all man- 
 kind for the future, enjoying her dogs and her independence, and defy- 
 ing Hymen and hydrophobia for the rest of her life. 
 
 Gusty went on profiting by the early care of Edward O'Connor, whose 
 friendship was ever his dearest possession ; and Ratty, always wild, 
 expressed a desire for leading a life of enterprise. As they are both 
 " Irish heirs" as well as Lord Scatterbrain, and heirs under very dif- 
 ferent circumstances, it is not improbable that in our future " accounts" 
 something may yet be heard of them, and the grateful author once more 
 meet his kind readers, for whose generous support he begs to tender his 
 genuine thanks while offering a respectful adieu till next year. 
 
 THE END. 
 
 ft. Cl./.Y, PK1NTFR.. EHi.AU STKEET Hll.L. 
 
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