worms his body, and the devil his soul, as the man says
a little farther on."

The captain looked at me malignantly.

"Now, sir, are you not ashamed of yourself?"

"Wherefore?" said I. "Have I not given the meaning of the poem?"

"You have expounded the elegy, sir, fairly enough; I find no fault with
your interpretation. What I mean is this: Are you not ashamed to be
denying your country?"

"I never denied my country; I did not even mention it. My friend there
told you I was an Englishman, and he spoke the truth."

"Sorrow befall you for saying so," said the captain. "But I see how it
is, you have been bought; yes, sir, paid money, to deny your country; but
such has ever been the policy of the English; they can't bate us, so they
buy us. Now here's myself. No sooner have I sent this challenge to
Bishop Sharpe by the hands of my hired servant, than I expect to have a
hundred offers to let myself be beat. What is that you say, sir?" said
he, addressing his companion who had uttered a kind of inaudible
sound--"No hopes of that, did you say? Do you think that I could be bate
without allowing myself to be bate? By the powers!--but you are beneath
my notice."

"Well, sir," said he, fixing his eyes on me, "though you have cheek
enough to deny your own country, I trust you have not enough to deny the
merit of the elegy. What do you think of the elegy, sir?"

"I think it very sorry stuff," said I.

"Hear him!" said the captain looking about him. "But he has been bought,
paid money, to deny his own country and all that belongs to it. Well,
sir, what do you think of Carolan, Carolan the Great? What do you think
of his _Receipt_, sir?"

"I think it very sorry stuff, too."

"Very well, sir, very well; but I hope to make you give me a receipt for
all this before you leave. One word more. I suppose you'll next deny
that we have any poetry or music at all."

"Far be it from me to say any such thing. There is one song connected
with Ireland which I have always thought very fine, and likewise the
music that accompanies it."

"I am glad to hear it, sir; there is one piece of Irish poetry and music
which meets your approbation! Pray name the piece, sir."

"_Croppies Lie Down_!"

The captain sprang to his feet like one electrified.

"What, sir?" said he.

"_Croppies Lie Down_!"

The captain dashed his pipe to shivers against the table; then tucking up
the sleeves of his coat, he advanced to within a