"Yis, sir, I did: I wint direct home, and called at Mr. M'Garry's ty the way for some physic for the childre'.

"That's it!" said Murtough; "he changed my enclosure for a blister there; and if M'Garry has only had the luck to send the bit o' parchment to O'Grady, it will be the best joke I've heard this month of Sundays." "He did! he did!" shouted Tom Durfy; for don't you remember how O'Grady was after M'Garry this morning?"

"Sure enough," said Murtough, enjoying the double mistake. "By dad! Andy, you've made a mistake this time that I'll forgive you."

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By the powers o' war!" roared Dick the Devil, "I won't forgive him what he did now, though! What do you think?" said he, holding out the pistols, and growing crimson with rage: may I never fire another shot if he hasn't crammed a brace of bullets down the pistols before I loaded them: so no wonder you burned prime, Ned."

There was a universal laugh at Dick's expense, whose pride in being considered the most accomplished regulator of the duello was well known. "Oh, Dick, Dick! you're a pretty second," was shouted by all.

Dick, stung by the laughter, and feeling keenly the ridiculous position in which he was placed, made a rush at Andy, who, seeing the storm brewing, gradually sneaked away from the group, and when he perceived the sudden movement of Dick the Devil, took to his heels, with Dick after him.

"Hurra!" cried Murphy;

pounds on Andy."

"Done!" said the squire; "I'll back Dick the Divil."

"Tare an' ouns!" roared Murphy; "how Andy runs! Fear's a fine spur.

"So is rage," said the squire. "Dick's hot-foot after him. Will you double the bet?"

"Done!" said Murphy.

The infection of betting caught the bystanders, and various gages were thrown down and taken up upon the speed of the runners, who were getting rapidly into the distance, flying over hedge and ditch with surprising velocity, and, from the level nature of the ground an extensive view could not be obtained; therefore Tom Durfy, the steeplechaser, cried, "Mount, mount! or we'll lose the fun into our saddles, and after them!”

Those who had steeds took the hint, and a numerous field of horsemen joined in the chase of Handy Andy and Dick the Devil, who still maintained great speed. The horsemen made for a neighbouring hill, whence they could command a wider view; and the betting went on briskly, varying according to the vicissitudes of the race.

"Two to one on Dick-he's closing."

"Done!—Andy will wind him yet.'

"Well done!—there's a leap! Hurra!-Dick's down! Well done. Dick!-up again and going."

"Mind the next quickset hedge--that's a rasper, it's a wide gripe, and the hedge is as thick as a wall--Andy'll stick in it-Mind him!Well leap'd, by the powers!-Ha! he's sticking in the hedge-Dick'll catch him now. No, by jingo! he has pushed his way through-there,

he's going again at the other side.-Ha! ha! ha! ha! look at him—he's in tatthers!—he has left half of his breeches in the hedge."

"Dick is over now.-Hurra!—he has lost the skirt of his coat-Andy is gaining on him.-Two to one on Andy!"

"Down he goes!" was shouted, as Andy's foot slipped in making a dash at another ditch, into which he went head over heels, and Dick followed fast, and disappeared after him.

"Ride! ride!" shouted Tom Durfy; and the horsemen put their spurs in the flanks of their steeds, and were soon up to the scene of action. There was Andy, roaring murder, rolling over and over in the muddy bottom of a deep ditch, floundering in rank weeds and duck's meat, with Dick fastened on him, pummelling away most unmercifully, but not able to kill him altogether, for want of breath.

The horsemen, in a universal screech of laughter, dismounted, and disengaged the unfortunate Andy from the fangs of Dick the Devil, who was dragged from out of the ditch much more like a scavenger than a gentleman.

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The moment Andy got loose, away he ran again, with a rattling Tally ho!" after him, and he never cried stop till he earthed himself under his mother's bed in the parent cabin.

Murtough Murphy characteristically remarked, that the affair of the day had taken a very whimsical turn:-" Here are you and I, squire, who went out to shoot each other, safe and well, while one of the seconds has come off rather worse for the wear; and a poor devil, who had nothing to say to the matter in hand, good, bad, or indifferent, is nearly killed."

The squire and Murtough then shook hands, and parted friends in half an hour after they had met as foes; and even Dick contrived to forget his annoyance in an extra stoup of claret that day after dinner,— filling more than one bumper in drinking confusion to Handy Andy, which seemed a rather unnecessary malediction.

CHAPTER IV.

AFTER the friendly parting of the foes (pro tempore), there was a general scatter of the party who had come to see the duel; and how strange is the fact, that, much as human nature is prone to shudder at death under the gentlest circumstances, yet men will congregate to be its witnesses, when violence aggravates the calamity! A public execution or a duel is a focus where burning curiosity concentrates: in the latter case, Ireland bears the palm, for a crowd; in the former, the annals of the Old Baily can amply testify. Ireland has its own interest, too, in a place of execution, but not in the same degree as England. They have been too used to hanging in Ireland, to make it piquant : toujours perdrix” is a saying which applies in this as in many other cases. The gallows, in its palmy days, was shorn of its terrors; it became rather a pastime. For the victim, it was a pastime, with a vengeance ;-for, through it, all time was past with him. For the rabble who beheld his agony, the frequency of the sight had blunted the edge of horror, and only sharpened that of unnatural excitement. The great school, where law should be the respected master, failed to inspire its intended awe ;-the legislative lesson became a mockery; and death, instead of frowning with terror, grinned in a fool's cap from the scaffold.

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This may be doubted now, when a milder spirit presides in the councils of the nation and on the bench; but those who remember Ireland not very long ago, can bear witness how lightly life was valued or death regarded.-Illustrative of this, one may refer to the story of the two basket-women, in Dublin, who held gentle converse on the subject of an approaching execution.

"Won't you go see de man die to-morrow, Judy?"

"Oh no, darlin'," said Judy ;-by the bye, Judy pronounced the n through her nose, and said, "do."

"Ah do, jewel," said her friend.

Judy again responded,―" do."

"And why won't you go, dear?" inquired her friend again.

"I've to wash de child," said Judy.

"Sure, didn't you wash it last week?" said her friend in an expos tulatory tone.

"Oh, well, I won't go," said Judy.

"Throth, Judy, you're ruinin' your health," said this soft-hearted acquaintance; "dere's a man to die to-morrow, and you won't comeaugh!-you dever take do divarshin!"

And wherefore is it thus? Why should tears bedew the couch of