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"Arrah! none of your blarney. Don't be misthering me. Call me Mickey-Mickey Free, if you like better."

"I protest," said the editor, with dismay, "that here we are two hours at work, and haven't got to the foot of the great breach."

"And wasn't the army three months and a half in just getting that far, with a battering train, and mortars, and the finest troops ever was seen? and there you sit, a little fat creature with your pen in your hand, grumbling that you can't do more than the British army. Take care you don't provoke me to beat you; for I am quiet till I'm roused. But, by the Rock o' Cashel Here he grasped the brass trumpet with an energy that made the editor spring from his chair.

For mercy's sake, Mr. Free

"Well, I won't; but sit down there, and don't be bothering me about sieges, and battles, and things that you know nothing about."

"I protest," rejoined Mr. Meekins, “that had you not sent to my office intimating your wish to communicate an account of the siege, I never should have thought of intruding myself upon you. And now, since you appear indisposed to afford the information in question, if you will permit me, I'll wish you a very good night."

"Faith, and so you shall, and help me to pass one too; for not a step out o' that chair shall you take till morning. Do ye think I am going to be left here by myself, all alone?"

"I must observe-" said Meekins.

"To be sure, to be sure," said Mickey; "I see what you mean. You're not the best of company, it's true; but at a pinch like this- There now, take your liquor."

"Once for all, sir," said the editor, "I would beg you to recollect that on the faith of your message to me I have announced an account of the storming of Ciudad Rodrigo for our morning edition. Are you prepared, may I ask, for the consequences of my disappointing ten thousand readers ?"

"It's little I care for one of them. I never knew much of reading myself."

"If you think to make a jest of me,” interposed Mr. Meekins, reddening with passion.

"A jest of you! Troth it's little fun I can get out of you; you're as tiresome a creature as ever I spent an evening with. See now, I told you before not to provoke me. We'll have a little more drink; ring the bell. Who knows but you'll turn out better by and by?"

As Mike rose at these words to summon the waiter, Mr. Meekins seized the opportunity to make his escape. Scarcely had he reached the door, however, when he was perceived by Mickey, who hurled the trumpet at him with all his force, while he uttered a shout that nearly left the poor editor lifeless with terror. This time, happily, Mr. Free's aim failed him, and, before he could arrest the progress of his victim, he had gained the corridor, and, with one bound, cleared the first flight of the staircase, his pace increasing every moment as Mick's denunciations grew louder and louder, till at last, as he reached the street, Mr. Free's delight overcame his indignation, and he threw himself upon a chair and laughed immoderately.

A FENIAN TALE.

On a certain day a fair and a gathering were held at Bineadar, by the seven ordinary and seven extraordinary battalions of the Fenians of Erinn. In the course of the day, on casting a look over the broad expanse of the sea, they beheld a large, smooth-sided, and proud-looking ship ploughing the waves from the east and approaching them under full sail. When the capacious vessel touched the shore and lowered her sails, the Fenians of Erinn counted upon seeing a host of men disembark from her; and great was their surprise when one warrior, and no more, came out of the ship and landed on the beach. He was a hero of the largest make of body, the strongest of champions, and the finest of the human race; and in this wise was the kingly warrior equipped:— an impenetrable helmet of polished steel encased his ample and beautiful head, a deep-furrowed, thick-backed, sharp-edged sword hung at his left side; and a purple bossed shield was slung over his shoulder. Such were his chief accoutrements; and armed in this fashion and manner did the stranger come into the presence of Finn MacCoole and the Fenians of Erinn.

It was then that Finn, the King of the Fenians, addressed the heroic champion, and questioned him, saying, “ From what quarter of the globe hast thou come unto us, O goodly youth? or from which of the noble or ignoble races of the universe art thou sprung? Who art thou ?"

'I am," answered the stranger, "Ironbones, the son of the King of Thessaly; and so far as I have traveled on this globe, since the day that I left my own land, I have laid every country, peninsula and island, under contribution to my sword and my arm: this I have done even to the present hour; and my desire

is to obtain the crown and tribute of this country in like manner; for if I obtain them not, I purpose to bring slaughter of men and deficiency of heroes and youthful warriors on the seven ordinary and seven extraordinary battalions of the Fenian host. Such, O king, is the object of my visit to this country, and such is my design in landing here."

Hereupon uprose Conan the Bald, and said, "Of a truth, my friend, it seems to me that you have come upon a foolish enterprise, and that to the end of your life, and the close of your days, you will not be able to accomplish your purpose; because from the beginning of ages until now, no man ever heard of a hero or ever saw a champion coming with any such mighty design to Ireland, who did not find his match in that same country."

But Ironbones replied: "I make but very little account of your speech, Conán," said he; "for if all the Fenian heroes who have died within the last seven years were now in the world, and were joined by those who are now living, I would visit all of them with the sorrow of death and show all of them the shortness of life in one day; nevertheless I will make your warriors a more peaceable proposal. I challenge you then, O warrior, to find me a man among you who can vanquish me in running, in fighting or in wrestling; if you can do this, I shall give you no further trouble, but return to my own country without loitering here any longer."

“ And pray,” inquired Finn, "which of those three manly exercises that you have named will it please you to select for the first trial of prowess ?"

To this Ironbones answered, "If you can find for me any one champion of your number who can run faster than 1 can, I will give you no further annoyance, but depart at once to my own country."

"It so happens," said Finn, "that our Man of Swiftness, Keelte MacRonan, is not here at present to try his powers of running with you; and as he is not, it were better, O hero, that you should sojourn here a season with the Fenians, that you and they may mutually make and appreciate each other's acquaint

ance by means or conversation and amusements, as is our wont. In the meanwhile I will repair to Tara of the Kings in quest of Keelte MacRonan; and if I have not the good fortune to find him there, I shall certainly meet with him at Ceis-Corann of the Fenii, from whence I shall without delay bring him hither to meet you."

To this Ironbones agreed, saying that he was well satisfied with what Finn proposed; and thereupon Finn proceeded on his way towards Tara of the Kings, in search of Keelte. Now it fell out that as he journeyed along he missed his way, so that he came to a dense, wide and gloomy wood, divided in the midst by a broad and miry road or pathway. Before he had advanced more than a very little distance on this road, he perceived coming directly towards him an ugly, detestable-looking giant, who wore a gray fricze coat, the skirts of which reached down to the calves of his legs, and were bespattered with yellow mud to the depth of a hero's hand; so that every step he made, the lower part of that coat struck with such violence against his legs as to produce a sound that could be distinctly heard a full mile of ground off. Each of the two legs that sustained the unwieldy carcass of this horrible hideous monster was like the mast of a great ship, and each of the two shoes that were under his shapeless, horny, longnailed hoofs, resembled a roomy long-sided boat; and every time he lifted his foot, and at every step that he walked, he splashed up from each shoe a good barrelful of mire and water on the lower part of his body. Finn gazed in amazement at the colossal man, for he had never before seen any one so big and bulky; yet he would have passed onward and continued his route, but the giant stopped and accosted him, and Finn was under the necessity of stopping also, and exchanging a few words with the giant.

The giant began in this manner: "What, ho! Finn Mac Coole," said he, "what desire for traveling is this that has seized on you, and how far do you mean to go upon this journey ?"

"Oh," said Finn, "as to that, my trouble and anxiety are so great that I cannot describe them to you now, and indeed small