is
brothers, who were, in fact, nearly as impudent and offensive ruffians
as himself. Hycy paused for a moment, seemed thoughtful, and tapped his
boot with the point of his whip as he looked at them. On entering the
parlor he found dinner over, and his father, as was usual, waiting to
get his tumbler of punch.

"Where's my mother?" he asked--"where's Mrs. Burke?"

On uttering the last words he raised his voice so as she might
distinctly hear him.

"She's above stairs gettin' the whiskey," replied his father, "and God
knows she's long enough about it."

Hycy ran up, and meeting her on the lobby, said, in a low, anxious
voice--

"Well, what news? Will he stand it?"

"No," she replied, "you may give up the notion--he won't do it, an'
there's no use in axin' him any more."

"He won't do it!" repeated the son; "are you certain now?"

"Sure an' sartin. I done all that could be done; but it's worse an'
worse he got."

Something escaped Hycy in the shape of an ejaculation, of which we are
not in possession at present; he immediately added:--

"Well, never mind. Heavens! how I pity you, ma'am--to be united to such
a d--d--hem!--to such a--a--such a--gentleman!"

Mrs. Burke raised her hands as if to intimate that it was useless to
indulge in any compassion of the kind.

"The thing's now past cure," she said; "I'm a marthyr, an' that's all
that's about it. Come down till I get you your dinner."

Hycy took his seat in the parlor, and began to give a stave of the "Bay
of Biscay:"--

"'Loud roar'd the dreadful thunder,
The rain a deluge pours;
The clouds were rent asunder
By light'ning's vivid--'

By the way, mother, what are those robbing ruffians, the Hogans, doing
at the kitchen door there?"

"Troth, whatever they like," she replied. "I tould that vagabond,
Philip, that I had nothing for them to do, an' says he, 'I'm the best
judge of that, Rosha Burke.' An, with that he walks into the kitchen,
an' takes everything that he seen a flaw in, an' there he and them sat
a mendin' an' sotherin' an' hammerin' away at them, without ever sayin'
'by your lave.'"

"It's perfectly well known that they're robbers," said Hycy, "and the
general opinion is that they're in connection with a Dublin gang, who
are in this part of the country at present. However, I'll speak to the
ruffians about such conduct."

He then left the parlor, and proceeding to the farmyard, made a signal
to one of the Hogans, who