arlour.

'"No fire can be lit in the hall," says Lawrence, "for there's an ould
jackdaw's nest in the chimney."

'"Oh thin," says my father, "let us stop in the kitchen, for it's very
unproper for the likes iv me to be sittin' in the parlour," says he.

'"Oh, Terry, that can't be," says Lawrence; "if we keep up the ould
custom at all, we may as well keep it up properly," says he.

'"Divil sweep the ould custom!" says my father--to himself, do ye mind,
for he didn't like to let Lawrence see that he was more afeard himself.

'"Oh, very well," says he. "I'm agreeable, Lawrence," says he; and so
down they both wint to the kitchen, until the fire id be lit in the
parlour--an' that same wasn't long doin'.

'Well, your honour, they soon wint up again, an' sat down mighty
comfortable by the parlour fire, and they beginned to talk, an' to
smoke, an' to dhrink a small taste iv the pottieen; and, moreover, they
had a good rousin' fire o' bogwood and turf, to warm their shins over.

'Well, sir, as I was sayin' they kep' convarsin' and smokin' together
most agreeable, until Lawrence beginn'd to get sleepy, as was but
nathural for him, for he was an ould sarvint man, and was used to a
great dale iv sleep.

'"Sure it's impossible," says my father, "it's gettin' sleepy you are?"

'"Oh, divil a taste," says Larry; "I'm only shuttin' my eyes," says
he, "to keep out the parfume o' the tibacky smoke, that's makin' them
wather," says he. "So don't you mind other people's business," says
he, stiff enough, for he had a mighty high stomach av his own (rest his
sowl), "and go on," says he, "with your story, for I'm listenin'," says
he, shuttin' down his eyes.

'Well, when my father seen spakin' was no use, he went on with his
story. By the same token, it was the story of Jim Soolivan and his ould
goat he was tellin'--an' a plisant story it is--an' there was so much
divarsion in it, that it was enough to waken a dormouse, let alone to
pervint a Christian goin' asleep. But, faix, the way my father tould
it, I believe there never was the likes heerd sinst nor before, for
he bawled out every word av it, as if the life was fairly lavin' him,
thrying to keep ould Larry awake; but, faix, it was no use, for the
hoorsness came an him, an' before he kem to the end of his story Larry
O'Connor beginned to snore like a bagpipes.

'"Oh, blur an' agres," says my father, "isn't this a hard case," says
he, "that ould villain, lettin' on to be my fri