trouble to the
sarvints about sweepin' it, or any thing. You'd only have to lay down
the potato-basket on the flure, or the misthress, Gad bless her, could
do it, an' not lave a crumblin' behind her, besides sleepin, your haner,
in the carner beyant, if she'd take the throuble."

The sluggish phlegm of the Englisman was stirred up a little by the
twisted, and somewhat incomprehensible nature of these instructions.

"How far do you intend to proceed tonight, Paddy?" said he.

"The sarra one o' myself knows, plaze yer haner: sure we've an ould
sayin' of our own in Ireland beyant--that he's a wise man can I tell how
far he'll go, sir, till he comes to his journey's ind. I'll give this
crathur to you at more nor her value, yer haner."

"More!--why the man knows not what he's saying," observed the gentleman;
"less you mean, I suppose, Paddy?"

"More or less, sir: you'll get her a bargain; an' Gad bless you, sir!"

"But it is a commodity which I don't want at present. I am very well
stocked with pigs, as it is. Try elsewhere."

"She'd flog the counthry side, sir; an' if the misthress herself, sir,
'ud shake the wishp o' sthraw fwor her in the kitchen, sir, near the
whoire. Yer haner could spake to her about it; an' in no time put a
knife into her whin you plazed. In regard o' the other thing, sir--she's
like a Christyeen, yer haner, an' no throuble, sir, if you'd be seein'
company or any thing."

"It's an extraordinary pig, this, of yours."

"It's no lie fwhor you, sir; she's as clane an' dacent a crathur, sir!
Och, if the same pig 'ud come into the care o' the misthress, Gad
bliss her! an' I'm sure if she has as much gudness in her face as the
hanerable _dinnha ousahl_ (* gentleman)--the handsome gintleman she's
married upon!--you'll have her thrivin' bravely, sir, shartly, plase
Gad, if you'll take courage. Will I dhrive her up the aveny fwor you,
sir? A good gintlewoman I'm sure, is the same misthriss! Will I dhrive
her up fwor you, sir? _Shadh amuck--shadh dherin!_"*

*Behave yourself pig--behave, I say!

"No, no; I have no further time to lose; you may go forward."

"Thank your haner; is it whorid toarst the house abow, sir? I wouldn't
be standin' up, sir, wit you about a thrifle; an you'll have her, sir,
fwhor any thing you plase beyant a pound, yer haner; an' 'tis throwin'
her away it is: but one can't be hard wit a rale gintleman any way."

"You only annoy me, man; besides I don't want the pig; you