tched out before him on
another chair. He seemed much worn and debilitated, and altogether
had the appearance of a man whose life was not worth a single week's
purchase. Skinadre was about taking leave of his patron, the son, who
had been speaking to him as the pedlar entered.

"Don't be unaisy, Darby," he said. "We can't give you a lease for about
a week or fortnight; but the agent is now here, an' we must first take
out new leases ourselves. As soon as we do you shall have yours."

"If you only knew, your honor, the scrapin' I had in these hard times,
to get together that hundhre--"

"Hush--there," said the other, clapping his hand, with an air of
ridicule and contempt upon the miser's mouth; "that will do now; be off,
and depend upon----mum, you understand mo! Ha, ha, ha!--that's not a bad
move, father," he added; "however, I think we must give him the farm."

The pedlar had been standing in the middle of the floor, when young
Dick, turning round suddenly, asked him with a frown, occasioned by the
fact of his having overheard this short dialogue, what he wanted.

"God save you honors, gintlemen," said the pedlar, in a loud
straightforward voice. "I'm glad to see your honor looking so well,"
he added, turning to the father; "it's fresh an' young your gettin',
sir!--glory be to God!"

"Who is this fellow, Dick? Do you think I look better, my man?"

"Says Jemmy Branigan to me afore I came in," proceeded the
pedlar,--"he's a thrue friend o' mine, your honor, Jemmy is, an' 'ud
go to the well o' the world's end to sarve me--says he, you'll be
delighted, Harry, to see the masther look so fresh an' well."

"And the cursed old hypocrite is just after telling me, Dick, to prepare
for a long journey; adding, for my consolation, that it won't be a
troublesome one, as it will be all down hill."

"Why," replied the son, "he has given you that information for the ten
thousandth time, to my own knowledge. What does this man want? What's
your business, my good fellow?"

"Beggin' your pardon, sir," replied the pedlar, "will you allow me
to ask you one question; were you ever in the forty-seventh foot? Oh,
bedad, it must be him to a sartinty," he added, as if to himself. "No,"
replied Dick; "why so?"

"Take care, your honor," said the pedlar, smiling roguishly;--"take care
now, your honor, if it wasn't you--"

"What are you speaking about--what do you mean?" asked the young man.

The pedlar went over to him, and said, in