childer;[4] so the Rackrent estate went to his younger brother, a young
dashing officer, who came amongst us before I knew for the life of me
where-abouts I was, in a gig or some of them things, with another spark
along with him, and led horses, and servants, and dogs, and scarce a
place to put any Christian of them into; for my late lady had sent all
the feather-beds off before her, and blankets and household linen, down
to the very knife cloths, on the cars to Dublin, which were all her own,
lawfully paid for out of her own money. So the house was quite bare, and
my young master, the moment ever he set foot in it out of his gig,
thought all those things must come of themselves, I believe, for he
never looked after any thing at all, but harum-scarum called for every
thing as if we were conjurers, or he in a public-house. For my part, I
could not bestir myself any how; I had been so much used to my late
master and mistress, all was upside down with me, and the new servants
in the servants' hall were quite out of my way; I had nobody to talk to,
and if it had not been for my pipe and tobacco, should, I verily
believe, have broke my heart for poor Sir Murtagh.

But one morning my new master caught a glimpse of me as I was looking at
his horse's heels, in hopes of a word from him. "And is that old Thady?"
says he, as he got into his gig: I loved him from that day to this, his
voice was so like the family; and he threw me a guinea out of his
waistcoat pocket, as he drew up the reins with the other hand, his horse
rearing too; I thought I never set my eyes on a finer figure of a man,
quite another sort from Sir Murtagh, though withal, _to me_, a family
likeness. A fine life we should have led, had he stayed amongst us, God
bless him! He valued a guinea as little as any man: money to him was no
more than dirt, and his gentleman and groom, and all belonging to him,
the same; but the sporting season over, he grew tired of the place, and
having got down a great architect for the house, and an improver for the