revailed upon to depart without him; but the old man compensated for
the son's absence, by indulging in the most vociferous sorrow as he
went along, about "Ma Phelim." When he reached home, his grief burst out
afresh; he slapped the palms of his hands together, and indulged in a
continuous howl, that one on hearing it would imagine to be the very
echo of misery, When he had fatigued himself, he fell asleep on the bed,
without having undressed, where he lay until near nine o'clock the next
morning. Having got up and breakfasted, he related to his wife, with an
aching head, the result of the last night's proceedings. Everything
he assured her was settled: Phelim and Peggy were to be called the
following Sunday, as Phelim, he supposed, had already informed her.

"Where's Phelim?" said the wife; "an' why didn't he come home wid you
last night?"

"Where is Phelim? Why, Sheelah, woman sure he did come home wid me last
night."

"_Ghrush orrin_, Larry, no! What could happen him? Why, man, I thought
you knew where he was; an' in regard of his bein' abroad so often at
night, myself didn't think it sthrange."

Phelim's absence astounded them both, particularly the father, who
had altogether forgotten everything that had happened on the preceding
night, after the period of his intoxication. He proposed to go back to
Donovan's to inquire for him, and was about to proceed there when Phelim
made his appearance, dressed in his own tender apparel only. His face
was three inches longer than usual, and the droop in his eye remarkably
conspicuous.

"No fear of him," said the father, "here's himself. Arrah, Phelim, what
became of you last night? Where wor you?"

Phelim sat down very deliberately and calmly, looked dismally at his
mother, and then looked more dismally at his father.

"I suppose you're sick too, Phelim," said the father. "My head's goin'
round like a top."

"Ate your breakfast," said his mother; it's the best thing for you."

"Where wor you last night, Phelim?" inquired the father.

"What are you sayin', ould man?"

"Who wor you wid last night?"

"Do, Phelim," said the mother, "tell us, aroon. I hope it wasn't out you
wor. Tell us, avourneen?"

"Ould woman, what are you talking about?"

Phelim whistled "_ulican dim oh_," or, "the song of sorrow." At length
he bounced to his feet, and exclaimed in a loud, rapid voice:--"_Ma
chuirp an diouol!_ ould couple, but I'm robbed of my ten guineas by Sam
Appleton!"