tween Kate and Philip Hogan

--Bryan M'Mahon is Cautioned against Political Temptation--He Seeks
Major Vanston's Interest with the Board of Excise.

The consequences of the calamity which was hanging over Bryan M'Mahon's
head, had become now pretty well understood, and occasioned a very
general and profound sympathy for the ruin in which it was likely to
involve him. Indeed, almost every one appeared to feel it more than he
himself did, and many, who on meeting him, were at first disposed to
offer him consolation, changed their purpose on witnessing his cheerful
and manly bearing under it. Throughout the whole country there was but
one family, with another exception, that felt gratified at the blow
which had fallen on him. The exception we speak of was no other than Mr,
Hycy Burke, and the family was that of the Hogans. As for Teddy
Phats, he was not the man to trouble himself by the loss of a moment's
indifference upon any earthly or other subject, saving and excepting
always that it involved the death, mutilation, or destruction in some
shape, of his great and relentless foe, the Gauger, whom he looked upon
as the impersonation of all that is hateful and villainous in life, and
only sent into this world to war with human happiness at large.
That great professional instinct, as the French say, and a strong
unaccountable disrelish of Hycy Burke, were the only two feelings that
disturbed the hardened indifference of his nature.

One night, shortly after Bryan's visit to his landlord, the Hogans and
Phats were assembled in the kiln between the hours of twelve and one
o'clock, after having drunk nearly three quarts of whiskey among
them. The young savages, as usual, after the vagabond depredations or
mischievous exercises of the day, were snoring as we have described them
before; when Teddy, whom no quantity of liquor could affect beyond a
mere inveterate hardness of brogue and an indescribable effort at mirth
and melody, exclaimed--"Fwhy, dhen, dat's the stuff; and here's bad luck
to him that paid fwor it."

"I'll not drink it, you ugly _keout_," exclaimed Philip, in his deep and
ruffianly voice; "but come--all o' yez fill up and drink my toast. Come,
Kate, you crame of hell's delights, fill till I give it. No," he added
abruptly, "I won't drink that, you leprechaun; the man that ped for it
is Hycy Burke, and I like Hycy Burke for one thing, an' I'll not dhrink
bad luck to him. Come, are yez ready?"

"Give it out,