ted upon their oars until evening. In the meantime, Phelim
sauntered about the village, as he was in the habit of doing, whilst the
father kept the day as a holiday. We have never told our readers that
Phelim was in love, because in fact we know not whether he was or not.
Be this as it may, we simply inform them, that in a little shed in
the lower end of the village, lived a person with whom Phelim was very
intimate, called Foodie Flattery. He was, indeed, a man after Phelim's
own heart, and Phelim was a boy after his. He maintained himself by
riding country races; by handing, breeding, and feeding cocks; by
fishing, poaching, and serving processes; and finally, by his knowledge
as a cow-doctor and farrier--into the two last of which he had given
Phelim some insight. We say the two last, for in most of the other
accomplishments Phelim was fully his equal. Phelim frequently envied him
his life. It was an idle, amusing, vagabond kind of existence, just
such a one as he felt a relish for. This man had a daughter, rather
well-looking; and it so happened, that he and Phelim had frequently
spent whole nights out together, no one knew on what employment. Into
Flattery's house did Phelim saunter with something like an inclination
to lay the events of the day before him, and to ask his advice upon his
future prospects. On entering the cabin he was much surprised to find
the daughter in a very melancholy mood; a circumstance which puzzled
him not a little, as he knew that they lived very harmoniously together.
Sally had been very useful to her father; and, if fame did not belie
her, was sometimes worthy Foodie's assistant in his nocturnal exploits.
She was certainly reputed to be "light-handed;" an imputation which
caused the young men of her acquaintance to avoid, in their casual
conversations with her, any allusion to matrimony.

"Sally, achora," said Phelim, when he saw her in distress, "what's the
fun? Where's your father?"

"Oh, Phelim," she replied, bursting into tears, "long runs the fox, but
he's cotch at last. My father's in gaol."

Phelim's jaw dropped. "In gaol! _Chorp an diouol_, no!"

"It's thruth, Phelim. Curse upon this Whiteboy business, I wish it never
had come into the counthry at all."

"Sally, I must see him; you know I must. But tell me how it happened?
Was it at home he was taken?"

"No; he was taken this mornin' in the market. I was wid him sellin' some
chickens. What'll you and Sam Appleton do, Pheli