bitterness of debate into the cordial flow of congratulation at seeing
his cousin again.

The liquor was frequently circulated, and the conversation began to take
a different turn, in order to lead from that which had very nearly ended
in a quarrel between O'Reirdon and his relation.

The state of the crops, county cess, road jobs, etc., became topics, and
various strictures as to the utility of the latter were indulged in,
while the merits of the neighboring farmers were canvassed.

"Why thin," said one, "that field o' whate o' Michael Coghlan is the
finest field o' whate mortial eyes was ever set upon,--divil the likes
iv it myself ever seen far or near."

"Throth thin sure enough," said another, "it promises to be a fine crap
anyhow, and myself can't help thinkin' it quare that Mikee Coghlan,
that's a plain-spoken, quite (quiet) man, and simple like, should have
finer craps than Pether Kelly o' the big farm beyant, that knows all
about the great saycrets o' the airth, and is knowledgeable to a degree,
and has all the hard words that iver was coined at his fingers' ends."

"Faith, he has a power o' _blasthogue_ about him sure enough," said the
former speaker, "if that could do him any good, but he isn't fit to
hould a candle to Michael Coghlan in the regard o' farmin'."

"Why blur and agers," rejoined the upholder of science, "sure he met the
Scotch steward that the lord beyant has, one day, that I hear is a
wondherful edicated man, and was brought over here to show us all a
patthern,--well, Pether Kelly met him one day, and, by gor, he
discoorsed him to a degree that the Scotch chap hadn't a word left in
his jaw."

"Well, and what was he the betther o' having more prate than a
Scotchman?" asked the other.

"Why," answered Kelly's friend, "I think it stands to rayson that the
man that done out the Scotch steward ought to know somethin' more about
farmin' than Mikee Coghlan."

"Augh! don't talk to me about knowing," said the other, rather
contemptuously. "Sure I gev in to you that he has a power o' prate,
and the gift o' the gab, and all to that. I own to you that he has
_the-o-ry_, and _che-mis-thery_, but he hasn't the _craps_. Now, the
man that has the craps is the man for my money."

"You're right, my boy," said O'Reirdon, with an approving thump of his
brawny fist upon the table, "it's a little talk goes far,--_doin'_ is
the thing."

"Ah, yiz may run down larnin' if yiz like," said the undismayed stic