Danby, "a fellow with a sly, blunt countenance; but his
heart is honest and affectionate. Yesterday I sent him with a message;
he stayed too long, and on his return I was much displeased. 'Where do
you come from?' I cried in an angry tone. 'From Belfast,' he calmly
replied. 'What!' exclaimed I, raising my voice, 'you are still the old
man in your answers!' 'Old man,' replied he, with a blunt but respectful
air; 'that is just what my father used to say. "Pat," says he, "were you
to live to the age of Methuselah, you would still be Patrick O'Donnar."'
I lost all patience. 'Sirrah!' cried I, 'to whom do you speak?' 'Sir,
did you not know,' answered he, 'I would tell you.' I was extremely
provoked; I gave him a push from me, and he fell upon a favourite dog,
which set up a loud howl. Pat leisurely arose, muttering, 'Ay, Towler, I
see you are ashamed,' and he walked slowly away. He soon returned, and,
coming up to me, said with a grave countenance that he was determined to
quit my service. My anger had subsided, and I, smiling, said, 'Why, Pat,
leave my service?' 'Because, sir,' replied he, 'there is no bearing with
your anger.' 'Tut, my anger,' I cried, 'it is a mere blast, which is
quickly over.' 'Yes,' said he, with one of his vacant stares, 'it is a
blast; but it is the blast of a hurricane which knocks me down.' I
easily reconciled him to his situation."

'In a short while Jonathan came back, and in a fluttered manner said
that his mistress wanted to speak with me. Immediately I left the table,
and went to my wife. As I entered the door of the apartment, I saw that
she was in tears; my heart sunk; my limbs trembled, and, walking up to
her, I took her hand, and kissed her cheek; for we have ever lived in a
loving manner, and I cried, "My dear, be comforted. Is our son Joseph
dead?" She in a hurried tone talked of a dragoon horse, an ass, a child,
and a tinker. "What!" cried I, "my dear, has our son Joseph to do with
dragoon asses and horses?" I unwittingly put the asses first. She
laughed. I stared at her, and, shaking my head, I said to myself, "Ah!
my poor wife!" For I really thought that she was touched in the brain.

'She then thrust the letter into my hand; I read it, and when I came to
the last part I felt that I was a father. When I saw my boy catching the
child, when I saw the mother embracing him, when I saw them all blessing
him, my heart overflowed with tenderness, and I exclaimed, "He is indeed
my son Joseph.