."

"I won't give you any letter for the squire, unless I know you're his
servant. Is there any one in the town knows you?"

"Plenty," said Andy, "it's not every one is as ignorant as you."

Just at this moment a person to whom Andy was known entered the house,
who vouched to the postmaster that he might give Andy the squire's
letter. "Have you one for me?"

"Yes, sir," said the postmaster, producing one--"fourpence."

The gentleman paid the fourpence postage, and left the shop with his
letter.

"Here's a letter for the squire," said the postmaster; "you've to pay me
elevenpence postage."

"What 'ud I pay elevenpence for?"

"For postage."

"To the devil wid you! Didn't I see you give Mr. Durfy a letther for
fourpence this minit, and a bigger letther than this? and now you want
me to pay elevenpence for this scrap of a thing. Do you think I'm a
fool?"

"No: but I'm sure of it," said the postmaster.

"Well you're welkum to be sure, sure;--but don't be delayin' me now:
here's fourpence for you, and gi' me the letther."

"Go along, you stupid thief!" said the postmaster, taking up the letter,
and going to serve a customer with a mouse-trap.

While this person, and many others were served, Andy lounged up and down
the shop, every now and then putting in his head in the middle of the
customers, and saying, "Will you gi' me the letther?"

He waited for above half an hour, in defiance of the anathemas of the
postmaster, and at last left, when he found it impossible to get common
justice for his master, which he thought he deserved as well as another
man; for, under this impression, Andy determined to give no more than
the fourpence.

The squire in the meantime was getting impatient for his return, and
when Andy made his appearance, asked if there was a letter for him.

"There is, sir," said Andy.

"Then give it to me."

"I haven't it, sir."

"What do you mean?"

"He wouldn't give it to me, sir."

"Who wouldn't give it you?"

"That owld chate beyant in the town--wanting to charge me double for
it."

"Maybe it's a double letter. Why the devil didn't you pay what he asked,
sir?"

"Arrah, sir, why would I let you be chated? It's not a double letther at
all: not above half the size o' one Mr. Durfy got before my face for
fourpence."

"You'll provoke me to break your neck some day, you vagabond! Ride back
for your life, you omadhaun; and pay whatever he asks, and get me the
letter."

"Why, sir, I