s reverence's health--three times three (empty them heeltaps, Jack, and
fill out of the fresh jug)--now, boys, give tongue. That's the raal thing;
them cheers would wake the seven sleepers after a dose of laudanum. Bless
you, and long life to you! That's the worst wish you'll find here."

"I know that right well, uncle. I know it, feel it, and most heartily
thank you all."

"Enough said, parson. By dad, Dick, its mighty droll to be calling you,
that was but yesterday a small curly-pated gossoon, by that clerical
mouthful of a handle to your name. But do you find us altered much?"

"There is no change but Time's--that has fallen lightly. To be sure,
yesterday I was looking for the heads of my strapping cousins at the
bottom button of their well-filled waistcoats, and, before Jack's arrival,
meant to do a paternal and patriarchal 'pat' on his, at somewhere about
that altitude; a ceremony he must excuse, as the little lad of my mind has
thought proper to expand into a young Enniskillen of six feet three."

"He's a mighty fine boy--the lady-killing vagabone!" said the father, with
a kind look of gratified pride; and then added, as if to stop the
infection of the vanity, "and there's no denying he's big enough to be
better." Here a slight scrimmage at the door of the dining-room attracted
the attention of the "masther."

"What's the meaning of that noise, ye vagabones?"

"Spake up, Mickey."

"Is it me?" "It is." "Not at all, by no means. Let Paddy do it, or Tim
Carroll; they're used to going out wid the car, and don't mind spaking to
the quality." "Take yourselves out o'that, or let me know what you want,
and be pretty quick about it, too."

The result of this order was the appearance of Tim Carroll in the centre
of the room--a dig between the shoulders, and vigorously-applied kick
behind, hastening him into that somewhat uneasy situation, with a degree
of expedition perfectly marvellous.

"Spake out, what is it?" "Ahem!" commenced Tim; "you see, sir (_aside_),
I'll be even wid you for that kick, you thief of the world--you see, Paddy
(bad manners to him) and the rest o' the boys, was thinking that, owing to
the change o' climate, Master Richard--that is, his new riverence--has
gone through by rason of laving England and comin' here--and mighty could,
no doubt, he was on the journey--be praised he's safe--the boy, sir, was
thinkin', masther dear, it was nothing but their duty, and what was due to
the family, to ax y