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"Well, and that's as good as done, you know; for if they want him, the pension is easily managed."

"I'm not so sure of that."

"Why, they 're as plenty as blackberries."

"Very true; but, you see, Lord Gobblestown swallows all the pensions for his own family; and there are a great many complaints in the market against him for plucking that blackberry-bush very bare indeed; and unless Sack Scatterbrain has swingeing interest, the pension may not be such an easy thing."

"But still O'Grady has shown himself not my friend."

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My dear squire, don't be so hot: he has not shown himself

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"Well, but he means it."

"My dear squire, you oughtn't to jump a conclusion like a twelvefoot drain or a five-bar gate."

"Well, he's a blackguard."

"No denying it; and therefore keep him on your side, if you can, or he 'll be a troublesome customer on the other."

"I'll keep no terms with him;-I'll slap at him directly. What can you do that's wickedest ?-latitat, capias-fee-faw-fum, or whatever you call it ?"

"Hollo! squire, you 're overrunning your game: maybe, after all, he won't join the Scatterbrains, and

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"I tell you it's no matter; he intended doing it, and that's all the same. I'll slap at him,-I'll blister him!"

Murtough Murphy wondered at this blind fury of the squire, who, being a good-humoured and good-natured fellow in general, puzzled the attorney the more by his present manifest malignity against O'Grady. But he had not seen the turn-over of the letter; he had not seen "bladdher," the real and secret cause of the "war to the knife" spirit which was kindled in the squire's breast.

"Of course you can do what you please; but, if you'd take a friend's advice

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"I tell you I'll blister him.".

"He certainly bled you very freely."

“I'll blister him, I tell you, and that smart. Lose no time, Murphy, my boy: let loose the dogs of law on him, and harass him till he'd wish the d-1 had him."

"Just as you like; but――"

"I'll have it my own way, I tell you; so say no more."

"I'll commence against him at once then, as you wish it; but it's no use, for you know very well that it will be impossible to serve him.” "Let me alone for that: I'll be bound I'll find fellows to get the inside of him."

"Why, his house is barricaded like a jail, and he has dogs enough to bait all the bulls in the country."

"No matter; just send me the blister for him, and I'll engage I'll stick it on him."

"Very well, squire; you shall have the blister as soon as it can be got ready. I'll tell you whenever you may send over to me for it, and your messenger shall have it hot and warm for him. Good-b'ye, squire."

"Good-b'ye, Murphy !-lose no time."

"In the twinkling of a bed-post. Are you going to Tom Durfy's steeple-chase ?"

"I'm not sure."

"I've a bet on it. Did you see the Widow Flanagan lately? You dian t? They say Tom's pushing it strong there. The widow has money, you know, and Tom does it all for the love o' God; for you know, squire, there are two things God hates,-a coward and a poor man. Now, Tom's no coward; and, that he may be sure of the love o' God on the other score, he 's making up to the widow; and, as he's a slashing fellow, she's nothing loth, and, for fear of any one cutting him out, Tom keeps as sharp a look-out after her as she does after him. He's fierce on it, and looks pistols at any one that attempts putting his comether on the widow, while she looks "as soon as you plaze," as plain as an optical lecture can enlighten the heart of man : in short, Tom's all ram's horns, and the widow all sheep's eyes. Good-b'ye, squire !" And Murtough put spurs to his horse and cantered down the avenue, singing.

Andy was sent over to Murtough Murphy's for the law process at the appointed time; and, as he had to pass through the village, Mrs. Egan desired him to call at the apothecary's for some medicine that was prescribed for one of the children.

“What 'll I ax for, ma'am ?”

"I'd be sorry to trust to you, Andy, for remembering. Here's the prescription; take great care of it, and Mr. M'Grane will give you something to bring back; and mind, if it's a powder, don't let it get wet as you did the sugar the other day."

"No, ma'am."

"And if it's a bottle, don't break it as you did the last." "No, ma'am."

"And make haste."

"Yis, ma'am :" and off went Andy.

In going through the village he forgot to leave the prescription at the apothecary's, and pushed on for the attorney's: there he saw Murtough Murphy, who handed him the law process, enclosed in a cover, with a note to the squire.

"Have you been doing anything very clever lately, Andy ?" said Murtough.

"I don't know, sir," said Andy.

"Did you shoot any one with soda-water since I saw you last ?" Andy grinned.

"Did you kill any more dogs lately, Andy?"

"Faix, you 're too hard on me, sir: sure I never killed but one dog, and that was an accident-"

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"An accident!-D-n your impudence, you thief! Do you think, you killed one of the pack on purpose, we wouldn't cut the very heart out o' you with our hunting-whips?"

"Faith, I wouldn't doubt you, sir: but, sure, how could I help that divil of a mare runnin' away wid me, and thramplin' the dogs?" "Why didn't you hold her, you thief?"

"Hould her, indeed!-you just might as well expect to stop fire among flax as that one."

"Well, be off with you now, Andy, and take care of what I gave you for the squire."

"Oh, never fear, sir," said Andy, as he turned his horse's head homeward. He stopped at the apothecary's in the village to execute his commission for the "misthis.' On telling the son of Galen that

he wanted some physic "for one o' the childre up at the big house," the dispenser of the healing art asked what physic he wanted.

"Faith, I dunna what physic."

"What's the matter with the child?"

"He's sick, sir."

"I suppose so, indeed, or you wouldn't be sent for medicine.You 're always making some blunder. You come here, and don't know what description of medicine is wanted."

"Don't I?" said Andy with a great air.

"No, you don't, you omadhaun!" said the apothecary.

Andy fumbled in his pockets, and could not lay hold of the paper his mistress entrusted him with until he had emptied them thoroughly of their contents upon the counter of the shop; and then taking the prescription from the collection, he said, "So you tell me I don't know the description of the physic I'm to get. Now, you see you 're out; for that's the description." And he slapped the counter impressively with his hand, as he threw down the recipe before the apothecary.

While the medicine was in the course of preparation for Andy, he commenced restoring to his pockets the various parcels he had taken from them in hunting for the recipe. Now, it happened that he had laid them down close beside some articles that were compounded, and sealed up for going out, on the apothecary's counter; and as the law process which Andy had received from Murtough Murphy chanced to resemble in form another enclosure that lay beside it, containing a blister, Andy, under the influence of his peculiar genius, popped the blister into his pocket instead of the packet which had been confided to him by the attorney, and having obtained the necessary medicine from M'Grane, rode home with great self-complacency that he had not forgot to do a single thing that had been entrusted to him: "I'm all right this time," said Andy to himself.

Scarcely had he left the apothecary's shop when another messenger alighted at its door, and asked "If Squire O'Grady's things was ready?"

"There they are," said the innocent M'Grane, pointing to the bottles, boxes, and blister, he had made up and set aside, little dreaming that the blister had been exchanged for a law process; and Squire O'Grady's own messenger popped into his pocket the legal instrument, that it was as much as any seven men's lives were worth to bring within gun-shot of Neck-or-nothing Hall.

Home he went, and the sound of the old gate creaking on its hinges at the entrance to the avenue awoke the deep-mouthed dogs around the house, who rushed infuriate to the spot to devour the unholy intruder on the peace and privacy of the patrician O'Grady; but they recognised the old grey hack and his rider, and quietly wagged their tails and trotted back, and licked their lips at the thoughts of the bailiff they had hoped to eat. The door of Neck-or-nothing Hall was carefully unbarred and unchained, and the nurse-tender was handed the parcel from the apothecary's, and re-ascended to the sickroom with slippered foot as quietly as she could; for the renowned

O'Grady was, according to her account, "as cross as two sticks;" and she protested, furthermore, " that her heart was grey with him." Mrs. O'Grady was near the bed of the sick man as the nurse-tender entered.

"Here's the things for your honour now," said she in her most soothing tone.

"I wish the d-1 had you and them!" said O'Grady.

"Gusty, dear!" said his wife. She might have said stormy instead of gusty.

"Oh! they'll do you good, your honour," said the nurse-tender, curtsying, and uncorking bottles, and opening a pill-box.

"Curse them all!" said the squire. "A pretty thing to have a gentleman's body made a perfect sink for these blackguard doctors and apothecaries to pour their dirty stuff into-faugh!"

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Now, sir, dear, there's a little blisther just to go on your chest— if you plaze

"A what!"

"A warm plasther, dear."

"A blister you said, you old divil!”

"Well, sure, it's something to relieve you."

The squire gave a deep growl, and his wife put in the usual appeal of "Gusty, dear!"

"Hold your tongue, will you? how would you like it? I wish you had it on your

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"'Deed-an-deed, dear," said the nurse-tender.

"By the 'ternal war! if you say another word, I'll throw the jug at you!"

"And there's a nice dhrop o' gruel I have on the fire for you," said the nurse, pretending not to mind the rising anger of the squire, as she stirred the gruel with one hand, while with the other she marked herself with the sign of the cross, and said in a mumbling God presarve us! he's the most cantankerous Christian I

manner,

ever kem across!"

"Show me that infernal thing!" said the squire.

"What thing, dear ?"

"You know well enough, you old hag!—that blackguard blister!" Now, just open the brust o' your shirt, and let

"Here it is, dear.

me put it an you."

"Give it into my hand here, and let me see it."

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Sartinly, sir; but I think, if you'd let me just— "Give it to me, I tell you!" said the squire, in a tone so fierce that the nurse paused in her unfolding of the packet, and handed it with fear and trembling to the already indignant O'Grady. But it is only imagination can figure the outrageous fury of the squire, when, on opening the envelope with his own hand, he beheld the law process before him. There, in the heart of his castle, with his bars, and bolts, and bull-dogs, and blunderbusses round him, he was served-absolutely served, and he had no doubt the nurse-tender was bribed to betray him.

A roar and a jump up in bed, first startled his wife into terror, and put the nurse on the defensive.

"You infernal old strap!" shouted he, as he clutched up a handful of bottles on the table near him and flung them at the nurse, who

was near the fire at the time; and she whipped the pot of gruel from the grate, and converted it into a means of defence against the phialpelting storm.

Mrs. O'Grady rolled herself up in the bed-curtains, while the nurse screeched "murther!" and at last, when O'Grady saw that bottles were of no avail, he scrambled out of bed, shouting, "Where's my blunderbuss?" and the nurse-tender, while he endeavoured to get it down from the rack, where it was suspended over the mantelpiece, bolted out of the door, which she locked on the outside, and ran to the most remote corner of the house for shelter.

In the mean time, how fared it at Merryvale? Andy returned with his parcel for the squire, and his note from Murtough Murphy, which ran thus:

"MY DEAR SQUIRE. I send you the blister for O'Grady, as you insist on it; but I think you won't find it easy to serve him with it. "Your obedient and obliged, "MURTOUGH MURPHY."

"To Edward Egan, Esq. Merryvale."

The squire opened the cover, and when he saw a real instead of a figurative blister, grew crimson with rage. He could not speak for some minutes, his indignation was so excessive. "So!" said he, at last, "Mr. Murtough Murphy-you think to cut your jokes with me, do you? By all that's sacred! I'll cut such a joke on you with the biggest horsewhip I can find, that you'll remember it. Dear squire, I send you the blister.' Bad luck to your impidence! Wait till awhile ago-that's all. By this and that, you'll get such a blistering from me that all the spermaceti in M'Grane's shop won't cure you,'

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TO A LYRIC AND ARTIST.

(Which we received from a Correspondent, and could not possibly inscrt in a more appropriate place than this.)

No wonder that Painters are "drawing long faces,"
And Poets write badly, the while they discover

How truly the Muses, how fondly the Graces,
Receive the addresses of one little LOVER.

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