"Pray what is your name?" inquired the matron.

"Phadhrumshagh Corfuffle, plase yer haner: my fadher carried the same
name upon him. We're av the Corfuflies av Leatherum Laghy, my lady; but
my grandmudher was a Dornyeen, an' my own mudher, plase yer haner, was
o' the Shudhurthagans o' Ballymadoghy, my ladyship, _Sladh anish, amuck
bradagh!_*--be asy, can't you, an' me in conwersation wit the beauty o'
the world that I'm spakin' to."

* Be quiet now, you wicked pig.

"That's the Negus language," observed,one of the young ladies, who
affected to be a wit and a blue-stocking; "it's Irish and English
mixed."

"Thrath, an' but that the handsome young lady's so purty," observed
Phil, "I'd be sayin' myself that that's a quare remark upon a poor
unlarned man; but, Gad bless her, she is so purty what can one say for
lookin' an her!"

"The poor man, Adelaide, speaks as well as he can," replied the lady,
rather reprovingly: "he is by no means so wild as one would have
expected."

"Candidly speaking, much _tamer_ than I expected," rejoined the wit.
Indeed, I meant the poor Irishman no offence."

"Where did you get the pig, friend? and how came you to have it for sale
so far from home?"