CHAPTER X.

NOTWITHSTANDING the deep potations of the Squire and Dick Dawson the night before, both were too much excited by the arrival of Furlong to permit their being laggards in the morning; they were up and in consultation at an early hour, for the purpose of carrying on prosperously the mystification so well begun on the Castle agent.

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"Now, first of all, Dick," said the Squire, "is it fair, do you think?" "Fair!" said Dick, opening his eyes in astonishment. Why, who ever heard of any one questioning anything being fair in love, war, or electioneering ;-to be sure, it's fair-and more particularly when the conceited coxcomb has been telling us how he'll astonish with his plans the poor ignorant Irish, whom he holds in such contempt. Now let me alone, and I'll get all his plans out of him-turn him inside out like a glove, pump him as dry as a pond in the summer, squeeze him like a lemon-and let him see whether the poor ignorant Iwish, as he softly calls us, are not an overmatch for him, at the finesse upon which he seems so much to pride himself.”

"Egad! I believe you're right, Dick," said the Squire, whose qualms were quite overcome by the argument last advanced; for if one thing more than another provoked him, it was the impertinent selfconceit of presuming and shallow strangers, who fancied their hackneyed and cut-and-dry knowledge of the common places of the world gave them a mental elevation above an intelligent people of primitive habits, whose simplicity of life is so often set down to stupidity, whose contentment under privation is frequently attributed to laziness, and whose poverty is constantly coupled with the epithet "ignorant." "A poor ignorant creature," indeed is a common term of reproach, as if poverty and ignorance must be inseparable. If a list could be obtained of the rich ignorant people, it would be no flattering document to stick on the door of the temple of Mammon.

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"Well, Ned," said Dick, as you agree to do the Englishman, Murphy will be a grand help to us; it is the very thing he will have his heart in. Murtough will be worth his weight in gold to us: I will ride over to him and bring him back with me to spend the day here; and you in the mean time can put every one about the house on their guard not to spoil the fun by letting the cat out of the bag too soon ; we'll shake her ourselves in good time, and maybe we won't have fun in the hunt!"

"You're right, Dick. Murphy is the very man for our money. Do you be off for him, and I will take care that all shall be right at home here."

In ten minutes more Dick was in his saddle, and riding hard for Murtough Murphy's. A good horse and a sharp pair of spurs were not long in placing him vis-à-vis with the merry attorney, whom he found in his stable-yard up to his eyes in business with some ragged country fellows, the majority of whom were loud in vociferating their praises of certain dogs; while Murtough drew from one of them, from time to time, a solemn assurance, given with many significant shakes of the head, and uplifting of hands and eyes, "that it was the finest badger in the world!" Murtough turned his head on hearing the rattle of the horse's feet, as Dick the Devil dashed into the stable-yard, and with a view-halloo welcomed him.

"You're just in time, Dick. By the powers, we'll have the finest day's sport you've seen for some time."

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"I think we will," said Dick, "if you will come with me." No; but you come with me," said Murtough. "The grandest badger-fight, sir."

"Pooh!" returned Dick; "I've better fun for you."-He then told him of the accident that conveyed their political enemy into their toils. "And the beauty of it is," said Dick, "that he has not the remotest suspicion of the condition he's in, and fancies himself able to buy and sell all Ireland—horse-dealers and attorneys included.”

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"That's elegant," said Murphy.

"He's come to enlighten us, Murtough," said Dick.

"And maybe we won't return the compliment," said Murtough: just let me put on my boots. Hilloa, you Larry! saddle the grey. Don't cut the pup's ears till I come home; and if Mr. Ferguson sends over for the draft of the lease, tell him it won't be ready till to-morrow. Molly! Molly!-where are you, you old divil? Sew on that button for me, I forgot to tell you yesterday,-make haste! I won't delay you a moment, Dick. Stop a minute, though. I say, Lanty Houligan, -mind, on your peril, you old vagabone, don't let them fight that badger without me. Now, Dick, I'll be with you in the twinkling of a bedpost, and do the Englishman, and that smart! Bad luck to their conceit!-they think we can do nothing regular in Ireland.”

On his arrival, and hearing how matters stood, Murtough Murphy was in a perfect agony of delight in anticipating the mystification of the kidnapped agent. Dick's intention had been to take him along with them on their canvass, and openly engage him in all their electioneering movements; but to this Murphy objected, as running too great a risk of discovery. He recommended rather to engage Furlong in amusements which would detain him from O'Grady and his party, and gain time for their side; to get out of him all the electioneering plot of the other party, indirectly; but to have as little real electioneering business as possible. "If you do, Dick," said Murphy, "take my word we shall betray ourselves somehow or other he could not be so soft as not to see it; but let us be content to amuse him with all sorts of absurd stories of Ireland and the Irish-tell him magnificent lies-astonish him with grand materials for a note book, and work him up to publish-that's the plan, sir!"

The three conspirators now joined the family party, which had just

sat down to breakfast. Dick, in his own jolly way, hoped Furlong had slept well.

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Vewy," said Furlong, as he sipped his tea with an air of peculiar nonchalance which was meant to fascinate Fanny Dawson, who, when Furlong addressed to her his first silly commonplace, with his peculiar non-pronunciation of the letter R, established a lisp directly, and it was as much as her sister Mrs. Egan could do to keep her countenance as Fanny went on slaughtering S's as fast as Furlong ruined R's.

"I'll twouble you for a little mo' queam," said he, holding forth his cup and saucer with an affected air.

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Perhaps you'd like thum more thcugar," lisped Fanny, lifting the sugar-tongs with an exquisite curl of her little finger.

"I'm glad to hear you slept well," said Dick to Furlong.

"To be sure he slept well," said Murphy; "this is the sleepiest air in the world."

"The sleepiest air?" returned Furlong somewhat surprised. "That's vewy odd."

"Not at all, sir," said Murphy," well-known fact. When I first came to this part of the country, I used to sleep for two days together sometimes. Whenever I wanted to rise early I was always obliged to get up the night before."

This was said by the brazen attorney, from his seat at a side table, which was amply provided with a large dish of boiled potatoes, capacious jugs of milk, a quantity of cold meat and game. Murphy had his mouth half filled with potatces as he spoke, and swallowed a large draught of milk as the stranger swallowed Murphy's lie.

"You don't eat potatoes, I perceive, sir," said Murphy. "Not for bweakfast," said Furlong.

"Do you for thupper?" lisped Fanny.

"Never in England," he replied.

"Finest things in the world, sir, for the intellect," said Murphy. "I attribute the natural intelligence of the Irish entirely to their cating potatoes."

Cob

"That's a singular theowy," said Furlong; "for it is genewally attwibuted to the potatoe, that it detewiowates the wace of man. bett said that any nation feeding exclusively on the potatoe, must inevitably be fools in thwee genewations."

"By the powers, sir!" said Murphy, "they'd be fools if they didn't eat them in Ireland; for they've nothing else to eat. Why, sir, the very pigs that we feed on potatoes are as superior

"I beg your pawdon," smiled Furlong; "daiwy-fed po'ke is vewy superior.'

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Oh, as far as the eating of it goes, I grant you!" said Murphy; "but I'm talking of the intelligence of the animal. Now, I have seen them in England killing your dairy-fed pork, as you call it, and to see the simplicity-the sucking simplicity, I will call it—of your milk-fed pigs, sir, the fellow lets himself be killed with the greatest ease,whereas, look to the potatoe-fed pig. He makes a struggle for his life; he shouts, he kicks, he plunges,-he squeals murder to the last. gasp, as if he were sensible of the blessings of existence and potatoes!'

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This was pronounced by Murphy with a certain degree of energy and oratorical style that made Furlong stare: he turned to Dick Dawson, and said, in an under tone, "How vewy odd your fwiend is !" 'Very," said Dick; "but that's only on the surface he's a prodigiously clever fellow: you'll be delighted with him when you know more of him,—he's our solicitor, and as an electioneering agent his talent is tremendous, as you'll find out when you come to talk with him about business."

"Well, I should neve' ha' thought it," said Furlong; "I'm glad you told me."

"Are you fond of sporting, Mr. Furlong?" said the Squire.

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'Vewy," said Furlong.

"I'll give you some capital hunting."

"I pwefer fishing."

"Oh!" returned the Squire, rather contemptuously.

"Have you good twout stweams here?" asked the exquisite. "Yeth," said Fanny, "and thuch a thamon fithshery!"

"Indeed!"

"Finest salmon in the world, sir," said Murphy. some sport, if you like."

"I'll show you

"I've seen some famous spo't in Scotland," said Furlong.

Nothing to what we can show you here," said Murphy. "Why, sir, I remember once at the mouth of our river here, when the salmon were coming up one morning before the tide was in, there was such a crowd of them, that they were obliged to wait till there was water enough to cross the bar, and an English sloop that had not a pilot aboard, whose captain did not know the peculiar nature of the river, struck on the bank of salmon and went down."

a

"You don't mean to say," said Furlong, in astonishment," that—

“I mean to say, sir," said Murphy, with an unruffled countenance, "that the river was so thick with salmon the vessel was wrecked upon them. By the by, she was loaded with salt, and several of the salmon were pickled in consequence, and saved by the poor people for the next winter. But I'll show you such fishing!" said Murphy," you'll say you never saw the like."

"Well, that is the wichest thing I've heard for some time," said the dandy confidentially to Dick.

I assure you," said Dick, with great gravity," Murphy swears he saw it himself. But here's the post,-let's see what's the news."

The post-bag was opened, and letters and newspapers delivered. "Here's one for you, Fan," said Dick, throwing the letter across the table to his sister.

"I thee by the theal ith from my couthin Thophy," said Fanny, who invented the entire sentence, cousinship and all, for the sake of the lisp.

"None fo' me?" asked Furlong.

"Not one," said Dick.

"I welied on weceiving some fwom the Ca-astle."

"Oh, they are thometimes tho thleepy at the Cathtle," said Fanny.

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Weally!" said the exquisite, with the utmost simplicity.

"Fanny is very provoking, Mr. Furlong," said Mrs. Egan, who was obliged to say something with a smile, to avoid the laugh which continued silence would have forced upon her.

"Oh, no!" said the dandy, looking tenderly at Fanny; "only vewy agweable,-fond of a little wepa'tee."

"They call me thatirical here," said Fanny,-" only fanthy;" and she cast down her eyes with an exquisite affectation of innocence.

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By the by, when does your post awwive here-the mail, I mean?" said Furlong.

"About nine in the morning," said the Squire.

"And when does it go out?"

"About one in the afternoon."

"And how far is the post-town fwom your house?"

"About eight or nine miles."

"Then you can answer your letters by wetu'n of post."

"Oh dear, no!" said the Squire ; "the boy takes any letters that may be for the post the following morning, as he goes to the town to look for letters."

"But you lose a post by that," said Furlong. "And what matter?" said the Squire.

In

The official's notions of regularity were somewhat startled by the Squire's answer; so he pushed him with a few more questions. reply to one of the last, the Squire represented that the post-boy was saved going twice a-day by the present arrangement.

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Ay, but you lose a post, my dear sir," said Furlong, who still clung with pertinacity to the fitness of saving a post. "Don't you see that you might weceive your letter at half-past ten; well, then you'll have a full hour to wite you' wanser; that's quite enough time, I should think, for you' wetu'ning an answer.'

"But, my dear sir," said Murtough Murphy, "our grand object in Ireland is not to answer letters."

"Oh!-ah!-hum!-indeed!-well, that's odd;-how vewy odd

you I wish are!"

"Sure that's what makes us such pleasant fellows," said Murtough. "If we were like the rest of the world, there would be nothing remarkable about us; and who'd care for us?"

"Well, Mr. Muffy, you say such queer things-weally."

"Ay, and I do queer things sometimes,-don't I, Squire?" "There's no denying it, Murphy."

"Now, Mr. O'Gwady," said Furlong, "had we not better talk over our election business?"

"Oh! hang business to-day," said Murphy; "let's have some fishing I'll show you such salmon fishing as you never saw in your life."

"What do you say, Mr. O'Gwady," said Furlong.

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'Faith, I think we might as well amuse ourselves."

"But the election is weally of such consequence; I should think it would be a wema'kbly close contest, and we have no time to lose : I should think-with submission-"