'a family quarrel.' 'Support your name with your blood, Reddy my
boy,' would that saint say, with the tears in her eyes; and so would
she herself have done with her voice, ay, and her teeth and nails.

Thus, at fifteen, there was scarce a lad of twenty, for half-a-dozen
miles round, that I had not beat for one cause or other. There were
the vicar's two sons of Castle Brady--in course I could not
associate with such beggarly brats as them, and many a battle did we
have as to who should take the wall in Brady's Town; there was Pat
Lurgan, the blacksmith's son, who had the better of me four times
before we came to the crowning fight, when I overcame him; and I
could mention a score more of my deeds of prowess in that way, but
that fisticuff facts are dull subjects to talk of, and to discuss
before high-bred gentlemen and ladies.

However, there is another subject, ladies, on which I must
discourse, and THAT is never out of place. Day and night you like to
hear of it: young and old, you dream and think of it. Handsome and
ugly (and, faith, before fifty, I never saw such a thing as a plain
woman), it's the subject next to the hearts of all of you; and I
think you guess my riddle without more trouble. LOVE! sure the word
is formed on purpose out of the prettiest soft vowels and consonants
in the language, and he or she who does not care to read about it is
not worth a fig, to my thinking.

My uncle's family consisted of ten children; who, as is the custom
in such large families, were divided into two camps, or parties; the
one siding with their mamma, the other taking the part of my uncle
in all the numerous quarrels which arose between that gentleman and
his lady. Mrs. Brady's faction was headed by Mick, the eldest son,