ticipate Irish hospitality.
"Alley," said the farmer, ere the wife had time to comply with the hint
conveyed by the black, twinkling eye of the schoolmaster; "why, Alley"--
"Sure, I am," she replied, "an' will have it for you in less than no
time."
She accordingly addressed herself to the bottle, and in a few minutes
handed a reeking jug of punch to the _Farithee_, or good man.
"Come, Masther, by the hand o' my body, I don't like dhry talk so long
as I can get anything to moisten the discoorse. Here's your health,
Masther," continued the farmer, winking at the rest, "and a speedy
conclusion to what you know! In throth, she's the pick of a good
girl--not to mintion what she has for her portion. I'm a friend to the
same family, an' will put a spoke in your wheel, Masther, that'll sarve
you."
"Oh, Mr. Lanigan, very well, sir--very well--you're becoming quite
facetious upon me," said the little man, rather confused; "but upon my
credit and reputation, except the amorous inclination and regard to me
is on her side," and he looked sheepishly at his hands, "I can't say
that the arrows of Cupid have as yet pinethrated the sintimintal side of
my heart. It is not with me as it was wid Dido--hem--
Non 'haeret lateri lethalis arundo,'
as Virgil says. Yet I can't say, but if a friend were to become
spokesman for me, and insinuate in my behalf a small taste of amorous
sintimintality, why--hem, hem, hem! The company's health! Lad, James
M'Evoy, your health, and success to you, my good boy!--hem, hem!"
"Here's wishin' him the same!" said the farmer.
"James," said the schoolmaster, "you are goin' to Munsther, an' I can
say that I have travelled it from end to end, not to a bad purpose, I
hope--hem! Well, a bouchal, there are hard days and nights before you,
so keep a firm heart. If you have money, as 'tis likely you have, don't
let a single rap of it into the hands of the schoolmaster, although the
first thing he'll do will be to bring you home to his own house, an'
palaver you night an' day, till he succeeds in persuading you to leave
it in his hands for security. You might, if not duly pre-admonished,
surrender it to his solicitations, for--
'Nemo mortalium omnibus horis sapit.'
Michael, what case is mortalium?" added he, suddenly addressing one of
the farmer's sons; "come, now, Michael, where's your brightness? What
case is mortalium?"
The boy was taken by surprise, and for a few minutes could not reply.
|