divarsion of blood to the head."

"I rather think," observed another, "that they died by taking their
divarsion at the beefsteak and the pot of porter."

"No matther," said Billy, "they died at all events, and so will we all,
plaise God."

"Gome," said one of them, "there is Jack Brereton and his cane--let us
come to business. What do you say, Jack, as to the prisoner?"

Jack at the time had the aforesaid cane between his legs, over which he
was bent like a bow, with the head of it in his mouth.

"Are you all agreed?" asked Jack.

"All for a verdict of guilty, with the exception of this fellow and his
shoes."

Jack Brereton was a handsome old fellow, with a red face and a pair
of watery eyes; he was a little lame, and crippled as he walked,
in consequence of a hip complaint, which he got by a fall from a
jaunting-car; but he was now steady enough, except the grog.

"Jack, what do you say?" asked the foreman; "it's time to do something."

"Why," replied Jack, "the scoundrel engaged me to put down a pump for
him, and I did it in such a manner as was a credit to his establishment.
To be sure, he wanted the water to come whenever it was asked; but I
told him that that wasn't my system; that I didn't want to make a good
thing too cheap; but that the water would come in genteel time--that is
to say, whenever they didn't want it; and faith the water bore me out."
And here Jack laughed heartily. "But no matter," proceeded Jack, "he's
only a _bujeen_; sure it was his mother nursed me. Where's that fellow
that's going to eat his shoes? Here, Ned Wilson, you flaming Protestant,
I have neither been a grand juror nor a petty juror of the county of
Sligo for nothing. Where are you? Take my cane, place it between your
knees as you saw me do, put your mouth down to the head of it, suck up
with all your strength, and you'll find that God will give you sense
afterwards."

Wilson, who had taken such a fancy for eating his shoes, in order to
show his loyalty, was what is called a hard-goer, and besides a great
friend of Jack's. At all events, he followed his advice--put the head
of the huge cane into his mouth, and drew up accordingly. The cane, in
fact, was hollow all through, and contained about three half-pints of
strong whiskey. There was some wrangling with the man for a little time
after this; but at length he approached Jack, and handing him the empty
cane, said:

"What's your opinion, Jack?"

"Why, we must hang him,"