u see, havin' the intention to come over long afore for fraid yez
might think it was for the money I am doin' it. But is there such a
thing, sir?"

"Not a penny, and so you may tell your friends."

"Well, but, sir, grantin' that, still you'll acknowledge that I'm
long-headed."

"No, only long-winded."

"Not long-headed, then?"

"No, certainly not."

"_Damnu orth a veehone bradagh!_ come Rosha. Not long-headed! troth it's
a poor religion to depind on--an' I'll make a show of it yet, if I'm
spared. Come, woman alive."

Honest Barney was the last but one who was honored by a hearing, though
not the last by a score of those who expected it, and, sooth to say, the
appearance of that one threw the whole proceedings into such exquisite
ridicule, that we cannot resist the temptation of giving his claims and
arguments a place among the rest. The convert in question was no other
than our old friend _Raymond-na-hattha_, or Raymond of the hats; who,
moved by the example of others, and only possessed of a dim notion of
the cause that brought them together, came among them from that vague
motive of action which prompts almost every creature like him to make
one in a crowd, wherever it may assemble. The mind of poor Raymond
was of a very anomalous character indeed; for his memory, which was
wonderful, accumulated in one heterogeneous mass, all the incidents
in which he had ever taken any part, and these were called out of the
confusion, precisely as some chord of association happened to be struck
in any conversation which he held. For this reason he sometimes uttered
sentiments that would have come with more propriety from the lips of a
philosopher than a fool, and again fell to the level of pure idiotism,
so singular were his alternations from sense to nonsense. Lucre's
porter, himself a wag, knew perfectly well what was going forward, and,
indeed, took very considerable delight in the movement. When Raymond
presented himself, the porter, to whom he was very well known,
determined, for the joke's sake, that he should have the honor of an
interview as well as the rest. Lucre, as we said, being but seldom at
Castle Cumber, was ignorant of Raymond's person and character, and,
indeed, we may add, that he stood in a position precisely similar with
respect to almost every one of his own flock. When Raymond entered,
then, he was addressed in much the same terms as the others.

"Well, friend, what is your business?--

"John, admi