y so?" says Terence.

'"Becase," says Jer, says he.

'"Becase what?" says Terence.

'"Becase," says Jer, "if it isn't done you'll never be asy again," says
he, "or pusilanimous in your mind," says he; "so ax no more questions,
but do my biddin'," says he.

'"Well," says Terence, "have your own way," says he.

'An' wid that he tuck the ould gandher, an' giv' it to one iv the
gossoons.

'"An' take care," says he, "don't smother the crathur," says he.

'Well, as soon as the bird was gone, says Jer Garvan says he:

'"Do you know what that ould gandher IS, Terence Mooney?"

'"Divil a taste," says Terence.

'"Well then," says Jer, "the gandher is your own father," says he.

'"It's jokin' you are," says Terence, turnin' mighty pale; "how can an
ould gandher be my father?" says he.

'"I'm not funnin' you at all," says Jer; "it's thrue what I tell you,
it's your father's wandhrin' sowl," says he, "that's naturally tuck
pissession iv the ould gandher's body," says he. "I know him many ways,
and I wondher," says he, "you do not know the cock iv his eye yourself,"
says he.

'"Oh blur an' ages!" says Terence, "what the divil will I ever do at all
at all," says he; "it's all over wid me, for I plucked him twelve times
at the laste," says he.

'"That can't be helped now," says Jer; "it was a sevare act surely,"
says he, "but it's too late to lamint for it now," says he; "the only
way to prevint what's past," says he, "is to put a stop to it before it
happens," says he.

'"Thrue for you," says Terence, "but how the divil did you come to the
knowledge iv my father's sowl," says he, "bein' in the owld gandher,"
says he.

'"If I tould you," says Jer, "you would not undherstand me," says
he, "without book-larnin' an' gasthronomy," says he; "so ax me no
questions," says he, "an' I'll tell you no lies. But blieve me in this
much," says he, "it's your father that's in it," says he; "an' if I
don't make him spake to-morrow mornin'," says he, "I'll give you lave to
call me a fool," says he.

'"Say no more," says Terence, "that settles the business," says he;
"an' oh! blur and ages is it not a quare thing," says he, "for a dacent
respictable man," says he, "to be walkin' about the counthry in the
shape iv an ould gandher," says he; "and oh, murdher, murdher! is not
it often I plucked him," says he, "an' tundher and ouns might not I
have ate him," says he; and wid that he fell into a could parspiration,
savin' your prisince