odge," replied his master, "I'se be bit--I'se heard feather talk about
un. That breed's true Hirish: but I'se try and sell 'em to Squoire Jolly
to hunt wi' as beagles, for he wants a pack. They do say all the swoine
that the deevils were put into ha' been drawn; but for my peart, I'se
sure that some on un must ha' escaped to Hireland."

Phil during the commotion excited by his knavery in Yorkshire, was
traversing the country, in order to dispose of his remaining pig; and
the manner in which he effected his first sale of it was as follows:

A gentleman was one evening standing with some laborers by the wayside
when a tattered Irishman, equipped in a pair of white dusty brogues,
stockings without feet, old patched breeches, a bag slung across his
shoulder, his coarse shirt lying open about a neck tanned by the sun
into a reddish yellow, a hat nearly the color of the shoes, and a hay
rope tied for comfort about his waist; in one hand he also held a straw
rope, that depended from the hind leg of a pig which he drove before
him; in the other was a cudgel, by the assistance of which he contrived
to limp on after it, his two shoulder-blades rising and falling
alternately with a shrugging motion that indicated great fatigue.

When he came opposite where the gentleman stood he checked the pig,
which instinctively commenced feeding upon the grass by the edge of the
road.

"Och," said he, wiping his brow with the cuff of his coat, "_mavrone
orth a muck_,* but I'm kilt wit you. Musha, Gad bless yer haner, an'
maybe ye'd buy a slip of a pig fwhrom me, that has my heart bruck, so
she has, if ever any body's heart was bruck wit the likes of her; an'
sure so there was, no doubt, or I wouldn't be as I am wid her. I'll give
her a dead bargain, sir; for it's only to get her aff av my hands I'm
wanting plase yer haner--_husth amuck--husth, a veehone!_** Be asy, an'
me in conwersation wid his haner here!"

* My sorrow on you for a pig.

** Silence pig! Silence, you pig! Silence, you
vagabond!

"You are an Irishman?" the gentleman inquired.

"I am, sir, from Connaught, yer haner, an' ill sell the crathur dag
cheap, all out. Asy, you thief!"

"I don't want the pig, my good fellow," replied the Englishman,
without evincing curiosity enough to inquire how he came to have such a
commodity for sale.

"She'd be the darlint in no time wid you, sir; the run o' your kitchen
'ud make her up a beauty, your haner, along wit no