eman! the likes of you a jintleman! Wisha, by gor, that
bangs Banagher. Why, you potato-faced pippin-sneezer, when did a
Madagascar monkey like you pick enough of common Christian dacency to
hide your Kerry brogue?"

"Easy, now--easy, now," cried O'Connell, with imperturbable good humor,
"don't choke yourself with fine language, you old whiskey-drinking
_parallelogram_."

"What's that you call me, you murderin' villian?" roared Mrs. Moriarty,
stung to fury.

"I call you," answered O'Connell, "a parallelogram; and a Dublin judge
and jury will say that it's no libel to call you so!"

"Oh, tare-an-ouns! oh, holy Biddy! that on honest woman like me should
be called a parrybellygrum to her face. I'm none of your
parrybellygrums, you rascally gallowsbird; you cowardly, sneaking,
plate-lickin' bliggard!"

"Oh, not you, indeed!" retorted O'Connell; "why, I suppose you'll deny
that you keep a _hypothenuse_ in your house."

"It's a lie for you, you dirty robber, I never had such a thing in my
house, you swindling thief."

"Why, sure your neighbors all know very well that you keep not only a
hypothenuse, but that you have two _diameters_ locked up in your garret,
and that you go out to walk with them every Sunday, you heartless old
_heptagon_."

"Oh, hear that, ye saints in glory! Oh, there's bad language from a
fellow that wants to pass for a jintleman. May the divil fly away with
you, you micher from Munster, and make celery-sauce of your rotten
limbs, you mealy-mouthed tub of guts."

"Ah, you can't deny the charge, you miserable _submultiple_ of a
_duplicate ratio_."

"Go, rinse your mouth in the Liffey, you nasty tickle pitcher; after all
the bad words you speak, it ought to be filthier than your face, you
dirty chicken of Beelzebub."

"Rinse your own mouth, you wicked-minded old _polygon_--to the deuce I
pitch you, you blustering intersection of a stinking _superficies_!"

"You saucy tinker's apprentice, if you don't cease your jaw, I'll----"
But here she gasped for breath, unable to hawk up any more words, for
the last volley of O'Connell had nearly knocked the wind out of her.

"While I have a tongue I'll abuse you, you most inimitable _periphery_.
Look at her, boys! there she stands--a convicted _perpendicular_ in
petticoats. There's contamination in her _circumference_, and she
trembles with guilt down to the extremities of her _corollaries_. Ah!
you're found out, you _rectilineal antecedent_, and _equian