o--truth.' Now, if that wasn't
misrepresentation, Mr. Hycy, I don't know what was. Ha! ha! ha!"

"You're half drunk," replied Hycy, "or I should rather say whole drunk,
I think, and scarcely know what you're saying; or rather, I believe
you're a bit of a knave, Mr. O'Finigan."

"Thanks, sir; many thanks for the prefix. Proceed."

"I have nothing more to add," replied Hycy, rising up and preparing to
go.

"Ay," said Finigan, with another grin, "a bit of a knave, am I? Well,
now, isn't it better to be only a bit of a knave than a knave all out--a
knave in full proportions, from top to toe, from head to heel--like some
accomplished gentlemen that I have the! honor of being acquainted wid.
But in the I meantime, now, don't be in a hurry, man alive, nor look
as if you were fatted on vinegar. Sit down again; ordher in another
libation, and I shall make a disclosure that will be worth your waiting
for."

"You shall have the libation, as you call it, at all events," said Hycy,
resuming his seat, but feeling, at the same time, by no means satisfied
with the lurking grin which occasionally played over Finigan's features.

After much chat and banter, and several attempts on the part of Hycy to
insinuate himself into the pedagogue's confidence, he at length rose
to go. His companion was now in that state which strongly borders on
inebriety, and he calculated that if it were possible to worm anything
out of him, he was now in the best condition for it. Every effort,
however, was in vain; whenever he pressed the schoolmaster closely, the
vague, blank expression of intoxication disappeared for a moment, and
was replaced by the broad, humorous ridicule, full of self-possession
and consciousness, which always characterized Finigan, whether drunk or
sober. The man was naturally cunning, and ranked among a certain class
of topers who can be made drunk to a certain extent, and upon some
particular subjects, but who, beyond that, and with these limitations,
defy the influence of liquor.

Hycy Burke was one of those men who, with smart and showy qualities
and great plausibility of manner, was yet altogether without purpose
or steadfast principle in the most ordinary affairs of life. He had no
fixed notions upon either morals, religion, or politics; and when we
say so, we may add, that he was equally without motive--that is, without
_adequate_ motive, in almost everything he did.

The canvass was now going on with great zeal on the p