ass without notice. He was riding a small horse at an easy
pace, and he answered the rather respectful salutation of the two foot
passengers with kindness and freedom. They addressed him as "Mr.
Coogan," while to them he returned the familiar term "boys."

"And av coorse it's goin' to the berrin, you are, Mr. Coogan, and long
life to you."

"Aye, boys.--It's hard for an owld horse to leave off his thricks."

"Owld is it?--faix and it's yourself that has more heart in you this
blessed mornin' than many a man that's not half your age."

"By dad I'm not a cowlt, boys, though I kick up my heels sometimes."

"Well, you'll never do it younger, sir,--but sure why wouldn't you be
there when all the counthry is goin' I hear, and no wondher sure.--By
the hole in my hat it's enough, so it is, to make a sick man lave his
bed to see the fun that'll be in it, and sure it's right and proper,
and shows the sperit that's in the counthry, when a man like yourself,
Mr. Coogan, joins the poor people in doin' it."

"I like to stand up for the right," answered the old man.

"And always was a good warrant to do that same," said Larry, in his
most laudatory tone.

"Will you tell us who's that forninst us an the road there?" asked the
old man, as he pointed to a person that seemed to make his way with
some difficulty, for he laboured under an infirmity of limb that caused
a grotesque jerking action in his walk, if walk it might be called.

"Why, thin, don't you know him, Mr. Coogan? by dad I thought there
wasn't a parish in the country that didn't know poor Hoppy Houligan."

It has been often observed before, the love of soubriquet that the
Irish possess; but let it not be supposed that their nicknames are
given in a spirit of unkindness--far from it. A sense of the
ridiculous is so closely interwoven in an Irishman's nature, that he
will even jest upon his own misfortunes; and while he indulges in a
joke (one of the few indulgences he can command), the person that
excites it may as frequently be the object of his openheartedness as
his mirth.

"And is that Hoppy Houligan?" said old Coogan, "I often heerd of him,
to be sure, but I never seen him before."

"Oh, then, you may see him before and behind now," said Larry; "and,
indeed, if he had a match for that odd skirt of his coat, he wouldn't
be the worse iv it; and in throth the cordheroys themselves aren't a
bit too good, and there's the laste taste in life of his--"

"Whisht