he's been to me--take the sup down there, and you'll get a dance; now be
off, you devils!"

"Many thanks to your honour!" chorused the delighted group; and "I done
that iligant, anyhow," muttered the gratified, successful, and, therefore,
forgiving orator. "I'll try again. Ahem! wouldn't the young gentlemen just
step down for a taste?" "By all manes!" was chimed at once; their hats
were mounted in a moment, and off they set.

Terence Conway's farm was soon reached; the barn affording the most
accommodation for the numerous visitors, was fitted up for the occasion.
It was nearly full, as Terence was a popular man--one that didn't grudge
the "bit and sup," and never turned his back upon friend or foe. Loud and
hearty were the cheers of the delighted tenantry, as the three sons of
their beloved landlord passed the threshold. The appearance of the
"stranger" was received with no such demonstrations of welcome; on the
contrary, there was a sullen silence, soon after broken by suppressed and
angry murmurs. These were somewhat appeased by one of the sons introducing
his "cousin," and endeavouring to joke the peasants into good-humour, by
laughingly assuring them his "reverence" was but a bad drinker, and would
not deprive them of much of the poteen; then passing his arm through the
parson's, he led the way, as it afterwards turned out, rather
unfortunately, to the top of the barn, and there, followed by his
brothers, they took their seats.

The entrance of the Catholic priest (a most amiable man) at this moment
attracted the entire attention of the party, during which time Tim Carroll
elbowed his way to the place where his master was seated, and calling him
partially aside, whispered, "Master John, dear, tell his riverence, Master
Richard, to go."