proposed and elected a governor of
the Savings' Bank, which had been for some time past established in
C------m. By this means, he was enabled to know that many of those who
came to him with poverty on their lips, were actually lodging money in
these economical institutions.

"Well, Carey," said he, to a comfortable-looking man that entered, "I
hope you have no further apology to offer for your dishonesty?"

"Sorra thing, Mr. John, but that I'm not able to pay. I expect the
landlord to come down upon me some o' these days--and what to do, or on
what hand to turn, I'm sure I don't know on airth."

"You don't say so now, Carey?"

"Troth I do, Misther John; and I hope you'll spare me for a little--I
mane till the hard times that's in it mends somehow."

"Well, Carey, all I can say is, that, if you don't know on what hand to
turn, I can tell you."

"Thank you, Misther John; troth an' I do want to know that."

"Listen, then; before you come here to me with a barefaced and dishonest
lie in your mouth, you ought to have gone to the C------m Savings' Bank,
and drawn from the sum of two hundred and seventy-three pounds,
which you have lying there, the slight sum of seven pounds twelve and
nine-pence which you owe us. Now, Carey, I tell you that you are nothing
but an impudent, scheming, dishonest scoundrel; and I say, once for all,
that we will see whether you, and every knavish rascal like you, or the
law of the land, is the stronger. Mark me now, you impudent knave, we
shall never ask you again. The next time you see us will be at the head
of a body of police, or a party of the king's troops; for I swear that,
as sure as, the sun shines, so certainly will we take the tithe due out
of your marrow, if we can get it nowhere else."

"Maybe, then," said Carey, "you will find that we'll laugh at the law,
the polis, the king's troops, and Misther John Purcel into the bargain;
and I now tell you to your teeth, that if one sixpence of tithe would
save the sowls of every one belongin' to you, I won't pay it--so do your
worst, and I defy you."

"Begone, you scoundrel. You are, I perceive, as rank a rebel as ever
missed the rope; but you won't miss it. Go home now; for, as I said this
moment, we will take the tithe out of your marrow, if you had thousands
of your cut-throat and cowardly White-boys at your back. Don't think
this villainy will pass with us; we know how to handle you, and will too;
begone, you dishonest ruffian, I