badger. He carried in his
hand a short whip, resembling a carrot in shape, and evidently of such
a description as no man that had any regard for his health would wish to
come in contact with, especially from the hand of such a double-jointed
but misshapen Hercules as bore it.

"Ted, how goes it, my man?"

"_Ghe dhe shin dirthu, a dinaousal?_" replied Ted, surveying him with a
stare.

"D--n you!" was about to proceed from Hycy's lips when he perceived
that a very active magistrate, named Jennings, stood within hearing. The
latter passed on, however, and Hycy proceeded:--"I was about to abuse
you, Ted, for coming out with your Irish to me," he said, "until I saw
Jennings, and then I _had_ you."

"Throgs, din, Meeisther Hycy, I don't like the _Bairlha_ (* English
tongue)--'caise I can't sphake her properly, at all, at all. Come you
'out wid the Gailick fwhor me, i' you plaise, Meeisther Hycy."

"D--n your Gaelic!" replied Hycy--"no, I won't--I don't speak it."

"The Laud forget you for that!" replied Ted, with a grin; "my ould
grandmudher might larn it from you--hach, ach, ha!"

"None of your d--d impertinence, Ted. I want to speak to you."

"Fwhat would her be?" asked Ted, with a face in which there might be
read such a compound of cunning, vacuity, and ferocity as could rarely
be witnessed in the same countenance.

"Can you come down to me to-night?"

"No; I'll be busy."

"Where are you at work now?"

"In Glendearg, above."

"Well, then, if you can't come to me, I must only go to you. Will you be
there tonight? I wish to speak to you on very particular business."

"Shiss; you _will_, dhin, wanst more?" asked the other, significantly.

"I think so."

"Shiss--ay--vary good. Fwen will she come?"

"About eleven or twelve; so don't be from about the place anywhere."

"Shiss---dhin--vary good. Is dhat all?"

"That's all now. Are your turf _dry_ or _wet_* to-day?"

* One method of selling Poteen is by bringing in kishes of
turf to the neighboring markets, when those who are up to
the secret purchase the turf, or pretend to do so; and while
in the act of discharging the load, the Keg of Poteen is
quickly passed into the house of him who purchases the
turf.--Are your turf wet or dry? was, consequently, a pass-
word.

"Not vary dhry," replied Ted, with a grin so wide that, as was
humorously said by a neighbor of his, "it would take a telescope to
enable a man to see fr