thanks to you, Mrs. Moan," replied Nogher, "for settin' me
right--sure we'll know something ourselves whin it comes our turn, plase
goodness. If the misthress isn't asleep, by goxty, I'd call in to her,
that I'm dhrinkin' her health."

"She's not asleep," said her mother; "an' proud she'll be, poor thing,
to hear you, Nogher."

"Misthress!" he said in a loud voice, "are you asleep, ma'am?"

"No, indeed, Nogher," she replied, in a good-humored tone of voice.

"Well, ma'am," said Nogher, still in a loud voice, and scratching his
head, "here's your health; an' now that the ice is bruk--be goxty, an'
so it is sure," said he in an undertone to the rest--"Peggy, behave
yourself," he continued, to one of the servant-maids, "mockin's
catchin': faix, you dunna what's afore yourself yet--beg pardon--I'm
forgettin' myself--an' now that the ice is bruk, ma'am," he resumed,
"you must be dacent for the futher. Many a bottle, plase goodness, we'll
have this way yet. Your health, ma'am, an' a speedy recovery to you--an'
a sudden uprise--not forgettin' the masther--long life to him!"

"What!" said the midwife, "are you forgettin' the sthranger?"

Nogher looked her full in the face, and opened his mouth, without saying
a word, literally pitched the glass of spirits to the very bottom of his
throat.

"Beggin' your pardon, ma'am," he replied, "is it three healths you'd
have me dhrink wid the one glassful?--not myself, indeed; faix, I'd be
long sorry to make so little of him--if he was a bit of a _girsha_ I'd
not scruple to give him a corner o' the glass, but, bein' a young man
althers the case intirely--he must have a bumper for himself."

"A girsha!" said Peggy, his fellow-servant, feeling the indignity just
offered to her sex--"Why thin, bad manners to your assurance for that
same: a girsha's as well intitled to a full glass as a gorsoon, any
day."

"Husth a colleen," said Nogher, good--humoredly, "sure, it's takin'
pattern by sich a fine example you ought to be. This, Mrs. Moan, is the
purty crature I was mintionin' as we came along, that intends to get
spanshelled wid myself some o' these days--that is, if she can bring me
into good-humor, the thief."

"And if it does happen," said Peggy, "you'll have to look sharper afther
him, Mrs. Moan. He's pleasant enough now, but I'll be bound no man 'ill
know betther how to hang his fiddle behind the door when he comes home
to us."

"Well, acushla, sure he may, if he likes, but if h