m?"

"Uz! Why, what danger is there to either Sim or me, you darlin'?"

"I'm sure, Phelim, I don't know; but he tould me, that if I was provided
for, he'd be firm, an' take chance of his thrial. But, he says, poor
man, that it 'ud break his heart to be thransported, lavin' me behind
him wid' nobody to take care o' me.--He says, too, if anything 'ud make
him stag, it's fear of the thrial goin' against himself; for, as he said
to me, what 'ud become of you, Sally, if anything happened me?"

A fresh flood of tears followed this disclosure, and Phelim's face,
which was certainly destined to undergo on that day many variations of
aspect, became remarkably blank.

"Sally, you insinivator, I'll hould a thousand guineas you'd never guess
what brought me here to-day?"

"Arrah, how could I, Phelim? To plan some thin' wid my fadher, maybe."

"No, but to plan somethin' wid yourself, you coaxin' jewel you. Now
tell me this--Would you marry a certain gay, roguish, well-built young
fellow, they call Bouncin' Phelim?"

"Phelim, don't be gettin' an wid your fun now, an' me in affliction.
Sure, I know well you wouldn't throw yourself away upon a poor girl like
me, that has nothin' but a good pair of hands to live by."

"Be me sowl, an' you live by them. Well, but set in
case--supposin'--that same Bouncin' Phelim was willing to make you
mistress of the Half Acre, what 'ud you be sayin'?"

"Phelim, if a body thought you worn't jokin' them--ah, the dickens go
wid you, Phelim--this is more o' your thricks--but if it was thruth you
wor spakin', Phelim?"

"It is thruth," said Phelim; "be the vestment, it's nothin' else. Now,
say yes or no; for if it's a thing that it's to be a match, you must go
an' tell him that I'll marry you, an' he must be as firm as a rock. But
see, Sally, by thim five crasses it's not bekase your father's in I'm
marryin' you at all. Sure I'm in love wid you, acushla! Divil a lie in
it. Now, yes or no?"

"Well--throth--to be sure--the sorra one, Phelim, but you have quare
ways wid you. Now are you downright in airnest?"

"Be the stool I'm sittin' on!"

"Well, in the name o' Goodness, I'll go to my father, an' let him know
it. Poor man, it'll take the fear out of his heart. Now can he depind on
you, Phelim?"

"Why, all I can say is, that we'll get ourselves called on Sunday next.
Let himself, sure, send some one to autorise the priest to call us.
An' now that's all settled, don't I desarve somethin'? Oh, b