"No, sir, I wanted first to obtain your and Mrs. O'Reilly's permission
to approach her."

"And quite right, too," said the lady warmly. "Isn't it delightful,"
she continued, "to see a young, bashful youth telling of his love for
our dear child? Doesn't it make you think of Moore's beautiful song,
'Love's Young Dream,' O'Reilly?"

"It does not," her husband snapped, "I never heard of the song I tell
you, and I never want to."

He turned again to the youth--

"If you are in earnest about this, you have my permission to court
Julia Elizabeth as much as she'll let you. But don't blame me if she
marries you. People who take risks must expect accidents. Don't go
about lamenting that I hooked you in, or led you on, or anything like
that.--I tell you, here and now, that she has a rotten temper--"

His wife was aghast--

"For shame, O'Reilly," said she.

Her husband continued, looking steadily at her--

"A rotten temper," said he, "she gives back answers."

"Never," was Mrs. O'Reilly's wild exclamation.

"She scratches like a cat," said her husband.

"It's a falsehood," cried the lady, almost in tears.

"She is obstinate, sulky, stubborn and cantankerous."

"A tissue," said his wife. "An absolute tissue," she repeated with the
firmness which masks hysteria.

Her husband continued inexorably--

"She's a gad-about, a pavement-hopper, and when she has the toothache
she curses like a carman. Now, young man, marry her if you like."

These extraordinary accusations were powerless against love and
etiquette--the young man stood up: his voice rang--

"I will, sir," said he steadily, "and I'll be proud to be her husband."

In a very frenzy of enthusiasm, Mrs. O'Reilly arose--

"Good boy," said she. "Tell your Aunt Jane I'll send her another pot
of jam." She turned to her husband, "Isn't it delightful, O'Reilly,
doesn't it make you think of the song, 'True, True Till Death'?"

Mr. O'Reilly replied grimly--

"It does not, ma'm.--I'm going back to my work."

"Be a gentleman, O'Reilly," said his wife pleadingly. "Won't you offer
Mr. O'Grady a bottle of stout or a drop of spirits?"

The youth intervened hastily, for it is well to hide one's vices from
one's family--

"Oh no, ma'm, not at all," said he, "I never drink intoxicating
liquors."

"Splendid," said the beaming lady. "You're better without it. If you
knew the happy homes it has ruined, and the things the clergy say about
it you'd be astonished. I only