It might
have been remarked that the Hogans eyed Bryan, soon after making his
appearance, with glances expressive of anything but good feeling. It was
not, however, when he first arrived, or danced with Hanna Cavanagh, that
these boding glances were turned upon him, but on the occasion of his
performing a reel with Kathleen. It might have been noticed that they
looked at him, and afterwards at each other, in a manner that could
admit of but little misapprehension.

"Philip," observed Finigan, addressing the elder Hogan,--"Philip,
the Macedonian--monarch of Macedon, I say, is not that performance
a beautiful specimen of the saltatory art? There is manly beauty, O
Philip! and modest carriage.

"'With aquil beauty formed, and aquil grace,
Hers the soft blushes of the opening morn,
And his the radiance of the risen day.'"

"It's night now, misther, if you plaise," returned Hogan, gruffly;
"but we don't want your opinion here--stick to your pothooks and
hangers--keep to your trade."

"The _pot-hooks_ and _hangers_ are more _tui generis_, you misbegotten
satyr," replied the schoolmaster; "that is, more appropriately
concatenated with your own trade than wid mine. I have no trade, sirra,
but a profession, and neither have you. You stand in the same degraded
ratio to a tradesman that a rascally quack does to a regular surgeon."

"You had better keep a civil tongue in jour head," replied Hogan,
nettled at the laughter which the schoolmaster raised at his expense.

"What! a civil tongue for you! Polite language for a rascally
sotherer of ould skillets and other anonymous utensils. Why, what
are you?--firstly, a general violation of the ten commandments; and,
secondly, a misshapen but faithful impersonation of the seven deadly
sins. Take my word for it, my worthy Macedonian, you will die any death
but a horizontal one--it's veracity I'm telling you. Yet there is some
comfort for you too--some comfort, I say again; for you who never lived
one upright hour will die an upright death. A certain official will
erect a perpendicular with you; but for that touck of Mathematics you
must go to the hangman, at whose hands you will have to receive the
rites of your church, you monstrous bog-trotting Gorgon. Mine a trade!
Shades of Academus, am I to bear this!"

Finigan was, like most of his class, a privileged man; but on this
occasion the loudness of the mirth prevented Hogan's reply from being
heard. As to violence,