ay a day or two longer in this
country, they would let me return at night and lodge with them. And
here, man, stay, take this,' putting money into his hands, 'for the good
woman of the house.'

The postillion went in, and returned.

'She won't at all--I knew she would not.'

'Well, I am obliged to her for the night's lodging she did give me; I
have no right to expect more.'

'What is it?--Sure she bid me tell you--"and welcome to the lodging;
for," said she, "he is a kind-hearted gentleman;" but here's the money;
it's that I was telling you she would not have at all.'

'Thank you. Now, my good friend Larry, drive me to Clonbrony, and do not
say another word, for I'm not in a talking humour.'

Larry nodded, mounted, and drove to Clonbrony. Clonbrony was now a
melancholy scene. The houses, which had been built in a better style of
architecture than usual, were in a ruinous condition; the dashing was
off the walls, no glass in the windows, and many of the roofs without
slates. For the stillness of the place Lord Colambre in some measure
accounted by considering that it was Sunday; therefore, of course, all
the shops were shut up, and all the people at prayers. He alighted at
the inn, which completely answered Larry's representation of it. Nobody
to be seen but a drunken waiter, who, as well as he could articulate,
informed Lord Colambre that 'his mistress was in her bed since
Thursday-was-a-week; the hostler at the WASH-WOMAN'S, and the cook at
second prayers.'

Lord Colambre walked to the church, but the church gate was locked and
broken--a calf, two pigs, and an ass, in the churchyard; and several
boys (with more of skin apparent than clothes) were playing at hustlecap
upon a tombstone, which, upon nearer observation, he saw was the
monument of his own family. One of the boys came to the gate, and told
Lord Colambre 'there was no use in going into the church, becaase there
was no church there; nor had not been this twelvemonth; becaase there
was no curate; and the parson was away always, since the lord was at
home--that is, was not at home--he nor the family.'

Lord Colambre returned to the inn, where, after waiting a considerable
time, he gave up the point--he could not get any dinner--and in the
evening he walked out again into the town. He found several ale-houses,
however, open, which were full of people; all of them as busy and as
noisy as possible. He observed that the interest was created by an
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