"Very good, very good."

"Well, but do you really think so, Brian?"

"Go on, if you please, and let us hear more of it; state your case, as
you say at the sessions."

"Well, then, there's your daughter Mary, a handsome girl, and, by all
accounts, as good as she is handsome--and there's my son Phil, who,
excepting the cast (* Squint)--is--but, at any rate, if he's no beauty,
he's a stout young fellow, for you know yourself that that little
closeness about the knees is always a sign of strength."

"That little closeness, Val!--why, Vulture darling, isn't one knee sugar
candy, and the other licking it?--but go on, it's not bad for so far, go
on; upon my credit it's not."

"I am glad you like it for so far--then seriously, what would you think
of a marriage between them?"

"Devil a prettier move you could make, Val. As you say, the farms and
the families lie convenient to one another--and I don't see what's to
prevent your proposal from being realized. You'll do well for Phil, of
course--for although he has the squint in both eyes, instead of only in
one, like yourself--and is twisted very much about the knees, more than
you are a good deal--still, Val--neighbor Val, as I now may call you--he
is a stout, left-legged, round-shouldered blade; and I question whether
the red poll does not become him better than a black one like yours
would."