uss? the poluss?"
"Oh! they're always looking the other way. But let us get the taste of
these murderin' ruffians out o' our mout'! Come down to Mrs. Haley's.
There isn't a better dhrop betune this and Dublin."

"But the proputty? the proputty?" said the bailiffs, looking around
anxiously.

"As safe as if ye had it in yere waistcoat pockets," they were assured.

The three well-dressed gentlemen moved with easy dignity down the one
dark street of the village, piloted carefully by the central figure, who
linked his arms affectionately in his comrades', and smoked his weed
with as much dignity as if he had been born in Cuba.

"Powerful dark hole!" said one; "one mut git a blow o' a stun and nuvver
be the wiser."

"Or the prod of a pike," suggested the middle gentleman.

"Huv tha' no gaws here?" cried his neighbor.

"No. But we're thinkin' of getting up the electric light; at laste the
parish priest do be talkin' about it, and sure that's the same as havin'
it. But here we are. Now, one word! There's one ruffian here whose name
mustn't pass yere mout', or we don't know the consekinces. He's a most
consaited and outrageous ruffian, doesn't care for law or judge, or
priest or pope; he's the only one ye have to be afeard of. Listen, that
ye may remimber. His name is Jem Deady. Keep yere mouths locked on that
while ye 're here."

It was a pleasant little party in Mrs. Haley's "cosey" or "snuggery."
There was warmth, and light, and music, and the odor of rum-punch and
lemon, and the pungency of cigars, and the pleasant stimulus of
agreeable conversation. Occasionally one of the "byes" looked in, but
was promptly relegated to the taproom, at a civil distance from the
"gintlemin." By and by, however, as more charity and less exclusiveness
prevailed under the generous influences of good liquor, the "gintlemin"
requested to be allowed to show the light of their glowing faces in the
plebeian taproom; and the denizens of the latter, prompt at recognizing
this infinite condescension, cheered the gentlemen to the echo.

"'T is the likes of ye we wants down here," they cried; "not a set of
naygurs who can't buy their tay without credit."

But the local bailiff didn't seem to like it, and kept aloof from the
dissipation. Also, he drank only "liminade." It was admitted in after
years that this was the greatest act of self-denial that was recorded in
history. His comrades chaffed him unmercifully.

"Come, mon, and git out o' th