adventures and battles with excisemen. In the summer evenings, he
usually engaged a piper or a fiddler, and had a dance, a contrivance by
which he not only rendered himself popular, but increased his business.

In this mode of life, the greatest source of anxiety to Peter and Ellish
was the difficulty of not offending their friends by refusing to give
them credit. Many plans, were, with great skill and forethought, devised
to obviate this evil; but all failed. A short board was first procured,
on which they got written with chalk--

"No credit giv'n--barrin' a thrifle to Pether's friends."

Before a week passed, after this intimation, the number of "Pether's
friends" increased so rapidly, that neither he nor Ellish knew the half
of them. Every scamp in the parish was hand and glove with him: the
drinking tribe, particularly, became desperately attached to him and
Ellish. Peter was naturally kind-hearted, and found that his firmest
resolutions too often gave way before the open flattery with which he
was assailed. He then changed his hand, and left Ellish to bear the
brunt of their blarney. Whenever any person or persons were seen
approaching the house, Peter, if he had reason to suspect an attack upon
his indulgence, prepared himself for a retreat. He kept his eye to
the window, and if they turned from the direct line of the road, he
immediately slipped into bed, and lay close in order to escape them. In
the meantime they enter.

"God save all here. Ellish, agra machree, how are you?"

"God save you kindly! Faix, I'm mid-dim', I thank you, Condy: how is
yourself, an' all at home?"