as any man
living, and draw the long bow in either capacity much better than he
could in the practice of his more legitimate profession.

"Well, here she is, Barny, to the fore," said the aforesaid arch girl,
"an' now give us a tune."

"What!" replied the farithee, "is it wid-out either aitin' or dhrinkin'?
Why, the girsha's beside herself! Alley, aroon, get him the linin'* an'
a sup to tighten his elbow."

* Linin'--lining, so eating and drinking are often
humorously termed by the people.

The good woman instantly went to provide refreshments for the musician.

"Come, girls," said Barny, "will yez get me a scythe or a handsaw."

"A scythe or a handsaw! eh, then what to do, Barny?"

"Why, to pare my nails, to be sure," replied Barny, with a loud laugh;
"but stay--come back here--I'll make shift to do wid a pair of scissors
this bout.

"'The parent finds his sons,
The tutherer whips them;
The nailer makes his nails,
The fiddler clips them.'"

Wherever Barny came there was mirth, and a disposition to be pleased, so
that his jokes always told.

"Musha, the sorra _pare_ you, Barny," said one of the girls; "but
there's no bein' up to you, good or bad."

"The sorra _pair_ me, is it? faix, Nancy, you'll soon be paired yourself
wid some one, avourneen. Do you know a sartin young man wid a nose on
him runnin' to a point like the pin of a sun-dial, his knees brakin' the
king's pace, strikin' one another ever since he was able to walk, an'
that was about four years afther he could say his Father Nosther; an'
faith, whatever you may think, there's no makin' them paceable except by
puttin' between them! The wrong side of his shin, too, is foremost;
an' though the one-half of his two feet is all heels, he keeps the same
heels for set days an' bonfire nights, an' savinly walks on his ankles.
His leg, too, Nancy, is stuck in the middle of his foot, like a poker in
a pick-axe; an', along wid all--"

"Here, Barny, thry your hand at this," said the good woman, who had
not heard his ludicrous description of her fictitious son-in-law--"_eeh
arran agus bee laudher_, Barny, _ate bread and be strong_. I'll warrant
when you begin to play, they'll give you little time to do anything but
scrape away;--taste the dhrink first, anyway, in the name o' God,"--and
she filled him a glass.

"Augh, augh! faith you're the moral of a woman. Are you there, Frank
M'Kenna?--here's a sudden disholution to your fam