gular_ old
hag! 'Tis with you the devil will fly away, you porter-swiping
_similitude_ of the _bisection of a vortex_!"

Overwhelmed with this torrent of language, Mrs. Moriarty was silenced.
Catching up a saucepan, she was aiming at O'Connell's head, when he very
prudently made a timely retreat.

"You have won the wager, O'Connell--here's your bet," cried the
gentleman who proposed the contest.

O'Connell knew well the use of sound in the vituperation, and having to
deal with an ignorant scold, determined to overcome her in volubility,
by using all the _sesquipedalia verba_ which occur in Euclid. With
these, and a few significant epithets, and a scoffing, impudent
demeanor, he had for once imposed silence on Biddy Moriarty.

O'CONNELL AND A BILKING CLIENT.

He used to lodge, when at Cork, at a stationer's of the name of O'Hara,
in Patrick-street, one of the principal thoroughfares of the city.
There, during the Assizes, there was always a crowd before his door,
lounging under his windows, anxious to get a peep at the Counsellor.
Whenever he made his appearance there was always a hearty cheer. On one
occasion, an old friend of his, who had once belonged to the bar, Mr.
K----, a member of a most respectable family, called on O'Connell during
the Assizes, to pay him a friendly visit. He found O'Connell engaged
with a shrewd-looking farmer, who was consulting him on a knotty case.
Heartily glad to see his old friend, O'Connell sprang forward, saying,
"My dear K----, I'm delighted to see you." The farmer, seeing the
visitor come in, cunningly took the opportunity of sneaking away. He had
got what he wanted--the opinion; but O'Connell had not got what _he_
wanted--the fee. O'Connell at once followed the farmer, who had got the
start by a flight of stairs. The rustic quickened his pace when he found
that the counsellor was in chase. O'Connell saw that he could not catch
the runaway client, who was now on the flight leading into the hall. He
leant over the bannister, and made a grasp at the farmer's collar, but,
instead of the collar, he caught the rustic's wig, which came away in
his hand. O'Connell gave a shout of laughter, and, quick as thought,
jumped in high spirits back to his room. "Hurrah! see, K----, I've got
the rascal's wig." Up went the window--

"Three cheers for the counsellor!--Long life to your honor. Arrah! isn't
he the man of the people."

"Ah! boys," said O'Connell, with glee, "look here what I've