not late."

"Hold your damned canting, tongue, you knave, what place is this for
it?"

"Knave! well I am then."

"Yes, you know you are--you are all knaves--every bailiff is a
knave--ahem--unless, indeed, one in a thousand."

"It's truth, indeed, plaise your honor."

"Not but there's worse than you after all, and be damned to you."

"An' betther, sir, too, i' you please, for sure, God help me, I'm not
what I ought to be."

"Well, mend then, why don't you? for you want it. Come now, no jaw, I
tell you, but answer me what I am about to ask you; not a word now."

"Well, no then, plaise your honor, I won't in throth."

"Did you warn the townland of Ballymackscud?"

"Yis, plaise your honor."

"Are they ready--have they the rent?"

"Only some o' them, sir,--an other some is axin' for time, the thieves."