r a couple of hours. Well, throth, it's no wonder that Ireland's full
of people; for I believe they do nothing but coort from the time they're
the hoith of my leg. I dunno is it true, as I hear Captain Sloethern's
steward say, that the Englishwomen are so fond of Irishmen?"

"To be sure it is," said Shane Fadh; "don't I remimber myself, when Mr.
Fowler went to England--and he as fine looking a young-man, at the time,
as ever got into a saddle--he was riding up the street of London, one
day, and his servant after him--and by the same token he was a thousand
pound worse than nothing; but no matter for that, you see luck was
before him--what do you think, but a rich dressed livery servant came
out, and stopping the Squire's man, axed whose servant he was?

"'Why, thin,' says Ned Magavran, who-was his body servant at the time,
'bad luck to you, you spalpeen, what a question do you ax, and you
have eyes in your head!' says he--'hard feeling to you!' says he, 'you
vagabone, don't you see I'm my master's?'

"The Englishman laughed. 'I know that, Paddy,' says he--for they call
us all Paddies in England, as if we had only one name among us, the
thieves; 'but I wish to know his name,' says the Englishman.

"'You do!' says Ned; 'and by the powers!' says he, 'but you must first
tell me which side of the head you'd wish to hear it an.'

"'Oh! as for that,' says the Englishman--not up to him, you see----'I
don't care much, Paddy, only let me hear it, and where he lives.'

"'Just keep your ground, then,' says Ned, 'till I light off this
blood-horse of mine'--he was an ould garron that was fattened up, not
worth forty shillings--'this blood-horse of mine,' says Ned, 'and I'll
tell you.'

"So down he gets, and lays the Englishman sprawling in the channel.

"' Take that, you vagabone! says he, and it'll larn you to call
people by their right names agin: I was christened as well as you, you
spalpeen!'

"All this time the lady was looking out of the windy, breaking her heart
laughing at Ned and the servant; but, behould!--she knew a thing or two,
it seems; for, instead of sending a man at all at all, what does she do
but sends her own maid--a very purty girl, who comes up to Ned, putting
the same question to him.

"'What's his name, avourneen?' says Ned, melting, to be sure, at the
sight of her 'Why, then, darling, who could refuse you anything?--but,
you jewel! by the hoky, you must bribe me or I'm dumb,' says he.

"'How could