quiet for a moment,
suggested that they should divert themselves before dinner with a
badger-fight.

"Isn't one fight a day enough for you, signor?" said the doctor.

"It is not every day we get a badger, you know," said Murphy; "and I
heard just now from Tim the waiter that there is a horse-dealer lately
arrived at the stables here, who has a famous one with him, and I know
Reilly the butcher has two or three capital dogs, and there's a wicked
mastiff below stairs, and I'll send for my 'buffer,' and we'll have
some spanking sport."

He led his guests then to the inn yard, and the horse-dealer, for a
consideration, allowed his badger to wage battle: the noise of the
affair spread through the town, while they were making their
arrangements, and sending right and left for dogs for the contest; and
a pretty considerable crowd soon assembled at the place of action,
where the hour before dinner was spent in the intellectual amusement of
a badger-fight.

CHAPTER V

The fierce yells of the badger-fight ringing far and wide, soon
attracted a crowd, which continued to increase every minute by
instalments of men and boys, who might be seen running across a small
field by the road-side, close to the scene of action, which lay at the
back of the inn; and heavy-caped and skirted frieze coats streamed
behind the full-grown, while the rags of the gossoons[1] fluttered in
the race. Attracted by this evidence of "something going on," a
horseman, who was approaching the town, urged his horse to speed, and
turning his head towards a yawning double ditch that divided the road
from the field, he gracefully rode the noble animal over the spanking
leap.

[1] Boys.

The rider was Edward O'Connor; and he was worthy of his name--the pure
blood of that royal race was in his heart, which never harboured a
sentiment that could do it dishonour, and overflowed with feelings
which ennoble human nature, and make us proud of our kind. He was young
and handsome; and as he sat his mettled horse, no lady could deny that
Edward O'Connor was the very type of the gallant cavalier. Though
attached to every manly sport and exercise, his mind was of a refined
order; and a youth passed amidst books and some of the loveliest
scenery in Ireland had nurtured the poetic feeling with which his mind
was gifted, and which found its vent in many a love-taught lyric, or
touching ballad, or spirit-stirring song, whose theme was national
glory. To h