'ud be one o' the family sure to be a gintleman,
anyhow; but that's gone too, agra. Look at the smoke, how comfortable
it rises from Jack Sullivan's, where the priest has a Station to-day.
'Tisn't fishin' for a sthray pratie he is, upon a ridge like this. But
it can't be helped; an' God's will be done! Not himself!--faix, it's
he that'll get the height of good thratement, an' can ride home, well
lined, both inside an' outside. Much good may it do him!--'tis but his
right."

The lad now paused in his turn, looked down on Jack Sullivan's
comfortable house, sheltered by a clump of trees, and certainly saw
such a smoke tossed up from the chimney, as gave unequivocal evidence of
preparation for a good dinner. He next looked "behind the wind," with
a visage made more blank and meagre by the contrast; after which he
reflected for a few minutes, as if working up his mind to some sudden
determination. The deliberation, however, was short; he struck his open
hand upon the head of the spade with much animation, and instantly took
it in both hands, exclaiming:

"Here, father, here goes; to the divil once an' for ever I pitch
slavery," and as he spoke, the spade was sent as far from him as he had
strength to throw it. "To the divil I pitch slavery! An' now, father,
wid the help o' God, this is the last day's work I'll ever put my hand
to. There's no way of larnin' Latin here; but off to Munster I'll start,
an' my face you'll never see in this parish, till I come home either a
priest an a gintleman! But that's not all, father dear; I'll rise you
out of your distress, or die in the struggle. I can't bear to see your
gray hairs in sorrow and poverty."

"Well, Jimmy--well, agra--God enable you, avourneen; 'tis a good
intintion. The divil a one o' me will turn another spadeful aither, for
this day: I'm _dhrookin'_ (* dripping) wid the rain. We'll go home an'
take an air o' the fire we want it; and aftherwards we can talk about
what you're _on_ (* determined) for."

It is usual to attribute to the English and Scotch character,
exclusively, a cool and persevering energy in the pursuit of such
objects as inclination or interest may propose for attainment; whilst
Irishmen are considered too much the creatures of impulse to reach
a point that requires coolness, condensation of thought, and efforts
successively repeated. This is a mistake. It is the opinion of
Englishmen and Scotchmen who know not the Irish character thoroughly.
The fact