action?"

"The day beyond yesterday, sir; yarra musha, sure 'twas yourself, sir,
that shet me the first sum."

"Masther, sir, Thady Bradly stole my cutter--that's my cutter, Thady
Bradly."

"No it's not" (in a low voice).

"Sir, that's my cutter--an' there's three nicks in id."

"Thady, is that his cutter?"

"There's your cutter for you. Sir, I found it on the flure and didn't
know who own'd it."

"You know'd very well who own'd it; didn't Dick Martin see you liftin'
it off o' my slate, when I was out?"

"Well, if Dick Martin saw him, it's enough: an' 'tis Dick that's the
tindher-hearted boy, an' would knock, you down wid a lump of a stone, if
he saw you murdherin' but a fly!"

"We'll, Thady--throth Thady, I fear you'll undherstand subtraction
better nor your teacher: I doubt you'll apply it to 'Practice' all
your life, _ma bouchal_, and that you'll be apt to find it 'the Rule of
False'* at last. Well, Thady, from one thousand pounds, no shillings,
and no pince, how will you subtract one pound? Put it down on your
slate--this way,

The name of a 'Rule' in Gough's Arithmetic.

1000 00 00

1 00 00"

"I don't know how to shet about it, masther."

"You don't, an' how dare you tell me so you _shingaun_ you--you
Cornelius Agrippa you--go to your sate and study it, or I'll--ha! be
off, you."--

"Pierce Butler, come up wid your multiplication. Pierce, multiply four
hundred by two--put it down--that's it,

400

By 2"

"Twice nought is one." (Whack, whack.)

"Take that as an illustration--is that one?"

"Faith, masther, that's two, any how: but, sir, is not wanst nought
nothin'; now masher, sure there can't be less than nothin'."

"Very good, sir."

"If wanst nought be nothin', then twice nought must be somethin', for
it's double what wanst nought is--see how I'm sthruck for nothin', an'
me knows it--hoo! hoo! hoo!

"Get out, you Esculapian; but I'll give you _somethin_', by-and-by, just
to make you remimber that you know _nothin_'--off wid you to your sate,
you spalpeen you--to tell me that there can't be less than nothin' when
it's well known that sporting Squaire O'Canter's worth a thousand pounds
less than nothin'."

"Paddy Doran, come up to your 'Intherest.' Well Paddy, what's the
intherest of a hundred pound, at five per cent? Boys, have manners you
thieves you."

"Do you mane, masther, per cent, per annum?"

"To be sure I do--how do you state it?"

"I'll say, as a hundher pound