ld Buck's. The ould Buck's wife was a Murtagh; now she again had a
cousin named M'Shaughran, who was married upon a man by name M'Faddle.
M'Faddle had but one sisther, and she was cousin to Frank M'Fud,
that suffered for--but no matther--the M'Swiggins and the M'Fuds
were cleaveens to the third cousins of Kid Flaherty's first wife's
sister-in-law, and she again was married in upon the M'Brides of Newton
Nowhere--so that you see you and I are thirty-second cousins at all
events.'"

"'Well, anyway he made out some relationship between us, or at least
I thought he did--and maybe that was as good--and faith may be a great
deal better, for if ever a man had the look of a schemer about him the
same customer had. At any rate we had some drink together, and went on
very well till we got befuddled, which, it seems, is his besetting sin.
It was clearly his intention, I could see, to make me tipsy, and I
dare say he might a done so, only for a slight mistake he made in first
getting tipsy himself."

"Well, but I'm not much the wiser of this," observed Norton. "What are
you at?"

"Neither am I," replied Morty; "and as to what I'm at--I dunna what the
devil I'm at. That's just what I want to know."

"Go on," said the other, "we must have patience. Who did this fellow
turn out to be?"

"He insisted he was a relation of my own, as I tould you."

"Who the devil cares whether he was or not! What was he, then?"

"Ay; what was he?--that's what I'm askin' you."

"Proceed," said Norton; "tell it your own way."

"He said he came from the Aist Indies beyant; that he knew some members
of his lordship's family there; that he had been in Paris, and that
while he was there he larned to take French lave of his masther."

"But who was his master?"

"That he would not tell me. However, he said he had been in Ireland for
some time before, where he saw an aunt of his, that was half mad; and
then he went on to tell me that he had been once at sarvice wid my
masther, and that if he liked he could tell him a secret; but then, he
said, it wouldn't be worth his while, for that he would soon know it."

"Very clear, perfectly transparent, nothing can be plainer. What a
Tipperary sphinx you are; an enigma, half man, half beast, although
there is little enigma in that, it is plain enough. In the meantime, you
bog-trotting oracle, say whether you are humbugging me or not."

"Devil a bit I'm humbuggin' you; but proud as you sit there, you have
tr