When the cart had proceeded about a mile, it stopped, and one of the
men who accompanied it addressing a boy who passed with two sods of turf
under his arm, desired him to hurry on and inform his master that they
waited for him.

"Tell Misther Corcoran to come into coort," said the man, laughing, "my
Lordship's waitin' to hear his defince for intindin' not to run away wid
Miss Judy Malowny. Tell him Lord Garty's ready to pass sintince on him
for not stalin' the heart of her wid his Rule o' Three. Ha! by the holy
farmer, you'll get it for stayin' from school to this hour. Be quick,
abouchal!"

In a few minutes the trembling urchin, glad of any message that might
serve to divert the dreaded birch from himself, entered the, uproarious
"Siminary," caught his forelock, bobbed down his head to the master,
and pitched his "two sods" into a little'heap of turf which lay in the
corner of the school.

"Arrah, Pat Roach, is this an hour to inter into my establishment wid
impunity? Eh, you Rosicrusian?"

"Masther, sir," replied the adroit monkey, "I've a message for you, sir,
i' you plase."

"An' what might the message be, Masther; Pat Roach? To dine to-day wid
your worthy father, abouchal?"

"No, sir; it's from one o' Mr. Lanigan's boys--him that belongs to the
carts, sir; he wants to spake to you, sir, i' you plase."