u renumber."

"I remimber he wanted to marry her, and I know that he's the most
revengeful and ill-minded little scoundrel on the face of the earth; if
ever there was a devil in a human bein', there's one in that misshapen
but sugary little vagabone. His father was bad enough when he was
alive, and worse than he ought to be, may God forgive him now, but this
spiteful skinflint, that's a curse to the poor of the country, as he is
their hatred, what could tempt you to ax him to stand for any child of
yours?"

"He may be what he likes, Frank, but all I can say is, that I found
him civil and obligin', an' you know the devil's not so black as he's
painted."

"I know no such thing, Art," replied the other; "for that matter, he may
be a great deal blacker; but still I'd advise you to have nothing to say
to Toal--he's a bad graft, egg and bird; but what civility did he ever
show you?"

"Why, he--he's a devilish pleasant little fellow, any way, so he is;
throth it's he that spakes well of you, at any rate; if he was ten
times worse than he is, he has a tongue in his head that will gain him
friends."

"I see, Art," said Frank, laughing, "he has been layin' it thick an'
sweet on you. My hand to you, there's not so sweet-tongued a knave in
the province; but mind, I put you on your guard--he's never pure honey
all out, unless where there's bitther hatred and revenge at the bottom
of it--that's well known, so be advised and keep him at a distance; have
nothin' to do or to say to him, and, as to havin' him for a godfather,
why I hardly think the child could thrive that he'd stand for."

"It's too late for that now,", replied Art, "for I axed him betther than
three weeks agone."

"An' did he consint?"

"He did, to be sure."

"Well, then, keep your word to him, of coorse; but, as soon as the
christenings over, drop him like a hot potato."

"Why, thin, that's hard enough, Frank, so long as I find the crathur
civil."

"Ay, but, Art, don't I tell you that it's his civility you should be
afeard of; throth, the same civility ought to get him kicked a dozen
times a day."

"Faix and," said Art, "kicked or not, here he comes; whisht! don't be
oncivil to the little bachelor at any rate."

"Oncivil, why should I? the little extortionin' vagabone never injured
or fleeced me; but, before he puts his nose into the house, let me
tell you wanst more, Art, that he never gets sweet upon any one that he
hasn't in hatred for them at the