ver, do ye mind, without a
natural vent for his feelings, or a _friend_, do ye see, at his side
to--to _resthrain_ him, and bring about, if possible, a friendly mutual
understanding--why, my dear child, he'll get into that state of
exasperation an' violence, he'll have half a dozen jewels on his hands
before morning.'

'Augh! 'tid be a murther to baulk them for want of a friend,' answered
Mr. Mahony, standing up like a warrior, and laying the pipe of peace
upon the chimney. 'Will I go down, Father Denis, and offer my sarvices?'

'With a view to a _reconciliation_, mind,' said his reverence, raising
his finger, closing his eyes, and shaking his florid face impressively.

'Och, bother! don't I know--of coorse, reconciliation;' and he was
buttoning his garments where, being a little 'in flesh,' as well as
tall, he had loosed them. '_Where_ are the gentlemen now, and who will I
ask for?'

'I'll show you the light from the steps. Ask for Dr. Toole; and he's
_certainly_ there; and if he's not, for Mr. Nutter; and just say you
came from my house, where you--a--pooh! accidentally heard, through Mr.
Loftus, do ye mind, there was a difficulty in finding a friend
to--a--strive to make up matters between thim.'

By this time they stood upon the door-steps; and Mr. Mahony had clapt on
his hat with a pugnacious cock o' one side; and following, with a
sporting and mischievous leer, the direction of the priest's hand, that
indicated the open door of the Phoenix, through which a hospitable
light was issuing.

'There's where you'll find the gentlemen, in the front parlour,' says
the priest. 'You remember Dr. Toole, and _he'll_ remember _you_. An'
_mind_, dear, it's to make it up you're goin'.' Mr. Mahony was already
under weigh, at a brisk stride, and with a keen relish for the business.
'And the blessing of the peacemaker go with you, my child!' added his
reverence, lifting his hands and his eyes towards the heavens, 'An' upon
my fainy!' looking shrewdly at the stars, and talking to himself,
'they'll have a fine morning for the business, _if_, unfortunately'--and
here he re-ascended his door-steps with a melancholy shrug--'if
_unfortunately_, Pat Mahony should fail.'

When Mr. Pat Mahony saw occasion for playing the gentleman, he certainly
did come out remarkably strong in the part. It was done in a noble,
florid, glowing style, according to his private ideal of the complete
fine gentleman. Such bows, such pointing of the toes,