tion at my back, that will make you suffer for this."

The farmer, however, who was elevated into the seventh heaven of
domestic affection, paid no earthly attention to her, but turning to the
stranger said:

"Sir, I've the best wife that ever faced the sun--"

"I," exclaimed Alley, "am not to be insulted and calumnied, ay, an'
backbitten before my own face, Misther Doran, and take my word you'll
hear of this to your cost--I've a faction."

"Sir--gintleman--miss, over the way there--for throth, for all so close
as you're veiled, you haven't a married look--but as I was sayin',
we fell in love wid one another by mistake--for there was an ould
matchmaker, by name Biddlety Girtha, a daughter of ould Jemmy
Trailcudgel's--God be good to him--father of the present strugglin' poor
man of that name--and as I had hard of a celebrated beauty that
lived about twelve or fifteen miles down the country that I wished to
coort--and she, on the other hand, having hard of a very fine, handsome
young fellow in my own neighborhood--what does the ould thief do but
brings us together, in the fair of Baltihorum, and palms her off on me
as the celebrated beauty, and palms myself on her as the fine, handsome
young fellow from the parish of Ballytrain, and, as I said, so we fell
in love wid one another by mistake, and didn't discover the imposthure
that the ould vagabond had put on us until afther the marriage. However,
I'm not sorry for it--she turned out a good wife to me, at all
events--for, besides bringin' me a stockin' of guineas, she has brought
me twelve of as fine childre' as you'd see in the kingdom of Ireland,
ay, or in the kingdom of heaven either. Barrin' that she's a little
hasty in the temper--and sometimes--do you persave?--has the use of
her--there's five of them on each hand at any rate--do you
undherstand--I say, barrin' that, and that she often amuses
herself--just when she has nothing else to do--and by way of keepin' her
hand in--I say, sir, and you, miss, over the way--she now and then
amuses herself by turnin' up the little finger of her right hand--but
what matter for all that--there's no one widout their little weeny
failin's. My own hair's a little sandy, or so--some people say it's red,
but I think myself it's only a little sandy--as I said, sir--so out of
love and affection for the best of wives, I'll give you her favorite,
the 'Red-haired man's wife.' Dandy, you thief, will you help me to do
the 'Red-haired man'