"'Good morning to you,' said I.

"'A good marning to your hanner, a merry afternoon, and a roaring joyous
evening--that is the worst luck I wish to ye.'

"'Are you a native of these parts?' said I.

"'Not exactly, your hanner--I am a native of the city of Dublin, or,
what's all the same thing, of the village of Donnybrook which is close by
it.'

"'A celebrated place,' said I.

"'Your hanner may say that; all the world has heard of Donnybrook, owing
to the humours of its fair. Many is the merry tune I have played to the
boys at that fair.'

"'You are a professor of music, I suppose?'

"'And not a very bad one as your hanner will say if you will allow me to
play you a tune.'

"'Can you play "Croppies Lie Down"?'

"'I cannot, your hanner; my fingers never learnt to play such a
blackguard tune; but if ye wish to hear "Croppies Get Up" I can oblige
ye.'

"'You are a Roman Catholic, I suppose?'