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What! you wouldn't knock my father, Sam!' says she, drawing off from me and looking skeary.

"Don't you be afeard; but it's very sartin, ef our heads don't come together, Merry Ann, you won't hev me for your husband to-night. And that's what I've swore upon. Hyar we air!'

"When we got to the yard I led in the mar', and Merry Ann she ran away from me and dodged around the house. I hitched the mar' to the post, took off the saddle-bags, which was mighty heavy, and walked into the house stiff enough tell you, though the gould in my pockets pretty much weighed me down as I walked.

"Well, in I walked, and thar sat the old squaire smoking his pipe and reading the newspaper. He looked at me through his specs over the newspaper, and when he seed who 'twas his mouth put on that same conceited sort of grin and smile that he ginerally hed when he spoke to me.

Well,' says he, gruffly enough, 'it's you, Sam Snaffles, is it?' Then he seems to diskiver my new clothes and boots, and he sings out, Heigh! you're tip-toe fine to-day! What fool of a shopkeeper in Spartanburg have you tuk in this time, Sam?'

"So I laid my saddle-bags down at my feet and tuk a chair quite at my ease; and I could see that he was all astare in wonderment at what he thought my sassiness. As I felt I had my hook in his gills, though he didn't know it yit, I felt in the humor to tickle him and play him as we does a trout.

"Says I, 'Squaire Hopson, you owes a sartin amount of money, say three hundred and fifty dollars, with intrust on it for now three years, to Dr. Columbus Mills.' "At this he squares round, looks me full in the face, and says:

แ

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'What the Old Harry's that to you?' Says I, gwine on cool and straight, 'You gin him a mortgage on this fairm for security.'

What's that to you?' says he. "The mortgage is overdue by two years, squaire,' says I.

"What the Old Harry's all that to you, I say?' he fairly roared out.

666

'Well, nothing much, I reckon. The three hundred and fifty dollars, with three years' intrust, at seven per cent., making it now-I've calkelated it all without compounding-something over four hundred and twenty-five dollars-well, squaire, that's not much to you, I reckon, with your large capital. But it's something to me."

667

But I ask you again, sir,' he says, what is all this to you?'

"Jist about what I tells you say four hundred and twenty-five dollars; and I've come hyar this morning, bright and airly, in hope you'll be able to square up and satisfy the mortgage. Hyar's the dockyment.

"And I drawed the paper from my breast-pocket.

666

And you tell me that Dr. Mills sent you hyar,' says he, to collect this money?' No; I come myself on my own hook.' 'Well,' says he, 'you shill hev your answer at onst. Take that paper back to Dr. Mills, and tell him that I'll take an airly opportunity to call and arrange the business with him. You hev your answer, sir,' he says, quite grand, and the sooner you makes yourself scarce the better.'

"Much obleeged to you, squaire, for your ceveelity,' says I; 'but I ain't quite satisfied with that answer. I've come for the money due on this paper, and must hev it, squaire, or thar will be what the lawyers call four closures upon it!'

666

'Yes,' says I, 'it's bonny fodder rigilar in law-and the title's all made out complete to me, Sam Snaffles; signed, sealed and delivered, as the lawyers says it.'

"And how the Old Harry come you by this paper?' says he.

"I was gitting riled, and I was detarmined, this time, to gin my hook a pretty sharp jerk in his gills; so I says:

on.

See, I've got my wedding breeches I'm to be married to-night, and I wants to take my wife to her own fairm as soon as I kin. Now, you see, squaire, I all along set my hairt on this fairm of yourn, and I detarmined ef ever I could git the capital, to get hold of it; and that was the idee I hed when I bought the 'signmeant of the mortgage from Columbus Mills. So, you see, ef you kain't pay a'ter three years, you never kin pay, I reckon; and ef I don't git my money this day, why-1 kain't help it-the lawyers will hev to see to the four closures tomorrow!'

"Great God, sir!' says he, rising out of his chair, and crossing the room up and down; do you coolly propose to turn me and my family headlong out of my house?' "Well, now,' says I, 'squaire, that's not edzactly the way to put it. As I reads this dockyment-and I tuk up and put the mortgage in my pocket-the house and fairm are mine by law. They onst was yourn; but it wants nothing now but the four closures to make 'em mine.'

666

And would you force the sale of property worth two thousand dollars and more for a miserable four hundred dollars?'

"It must sell for what it'll bring, squaire; and I stands ready to buy it for my wife, you see, ef it costs me twice as much as the mortgage.'

"Your wife! says he; 'who the Old VOL. V.-W. H.

Harry is she? You once pertended to have an affection for my da'ter.' So I hed; but hedn't the proper affection for your da'ter that I hed." prefar'd money to her affections, and you drive me off to git "capital!" Well, I tuk your advice, and I've got the capital.' "And whar the Old Harry,' said he, 'did you get it?'

666

Well, I made good tairms with the old devil for a hundred years, and he found me in the money.'

"It must hev been so,' said he. 'You waur not the man to git capital in any other way.'

"Then he goes on: 'But what becomes of your pertended affection for my da'ter?'

Twan't pertended; but you throwed yourself betwixt us with all your force, and broke the gal's hairt, and broke mine, so far as you could; and as I couldn't live without company, I hed to look for myself and find a wife as I could. I tell you, as I'm to be married to-night, and as I've swore a most etarnal oath to hev this fairm, you'll hev to raise the wind to-day, and square off with me, or the lawyers will be at you with the four closures tomorrow, bright and airly.'

666

Dod dern you!' he cries out. 'Does you want to drive me mad?'

666

By no manner of means,' says I, jest about as cool and quiet as a cowcumber. "The poor old squaire fairly sweated, but he couldn't say much. He'd come up to me and say:

666

Ef you only did love Merry Ann!' "Oh,' says I, 'what's the use of your talking that? Ef you only hed ha' loved your own da'ter!'

"Then the old chap begun to cry, and as I seed that I jest kicked over my saddlebags lying at my feet, and the silver Mexicans rolled out-a bushel on 'em. I reckon

and, oh, Lawd! how the old fellow jumped, staring with all his eyes at me and the dollars.

"It's money,' says he.

"'Yes,' says I, 'jest a few hundreds of thousands of my "capital." I didn't stop at the figgers, you see.

"Then he turns to me, and says, ‘Sam Snaffles, you're a most wonderful man. You're a mystery to me. Whar, in the name of heaven, hev you been? and what hev you been doing? and whar did you git all this power of capital?'

"I jest laughed, and went to the door

21

and called Merry Ann. She come mighty quick. I reckon she was watching and waiting.

MASTER AND MAN.

[THOMAS CROFTON CROKER, born at Cork, January 15, 1798; died at Brompton, London, August 8, 1854. His Fairy Legends and Traditions of the South of

Then says I, turning to the old man, 'Thar's that whole bushel of Mexicans, I reckon. Thar monstrous heavy. My old mar-ax her about her ribs now!-she fairly squelched onder the weight of me and that money. And I'm pretty heavy loaded myself. I must lighten, with your leave, squaire.

66

And I pulled out a leetle doeskin bag of gould half-eagles from my right-hand pocket and poured them out upon the table; then I emptied my left-hand pocket, then the side pockets of the coat, then the skairt pockets, and jist spread the shiners out upon the table.

66

Merry Ann was fairly frightened, and run out of the room; then the old woman she come in, and as the old squaire seed her, he tuk her by the shoulder and said: "Jest you look at that thar.'

A COLD.-"Do you know what it is," asked Lamb of Bernard Barton, describing his own state, to succumb under an insurmountable daymare-'a whoreson lethargy,' Falstaff calls it-an indisposition to do anything, or to be anything-a total deadness and distate-a suspension of vitality-an indifference to locality-a numb soporifical good-for-nothingness-an ossification all over-an oyster-like indifference to passing events-a mind-stupor a brawny defiance to the needles of a thrusting-in conscience-with a total irresolution to submit to water-gruel processes?"

PUNNING TRANSLATION.-Coleridge's motto. "sermoni proprioria, was translated by Lamb as properer for a ser

mon.

mains the standard work on the fairy lore of the author's country. Sir Walter Scott, in his Demonology and in a note to Rob Roy, speaks of it in terms of the highest admiration. Mr. Croker's fame was established and maintained by this book, although he wrote and edited several other works, and was a frequent contribu

tor to the Gentleman's and Fraser's Magazines. He was the author of the popular story of Daniel O'Rourke. In

an interesting memoir written by his son, Mr. T. F.

Dillon Croker, and prefaced to his gossiping Walk from London to Fulham, it is mentioned that the tales of Bar

ney Mahoney and My Village versus Our Village, which are usually attributed to Mr. Croker, were in reality written by his wife. His writings are full of humor and imagery.]

Billy Mac Daniel was once as likely a young man as ever shook his brogue at a pattern, emptied a quart, or handled a shillelagh; fearing for nothing but the want of drink, caring for nothing but who should pay for it, and thinking of nothing but how to make fun over it. Drunk or sober, a word and a blow was ever the way with Billy Mac Daniel; and a mighty easy way it is of either getting into or ending a dispute. More is the pity that through the means of his thinking, and fearing, and caring for nothing, this same Billy Mac Daniel fell into bad company; for surely the good people (the fairies) are the worst of all company any one could

come across.

It so happened that Billy was going home one very clear frosty night, not long after Christmas. The moon was round and bright; but although it was as fine a night as heart could wish for, he felt pinched with the cold. "By my word," chattered Billy, "a drop of good liquor would be no bad thing to keep a man's soul from freezing in him; and I wish I had a full measure of the best'

"Never wish it twice, Billy," said a little man in a three-cornered hat, bound all about with gold lace, and with great silver buckles in his shoes, so big that it was a wonder how he could carry them; and he held out a glass as big as himself, filled with as good liquor as ever eye looked on or lip tasted.

Success, my little fellow," said Billy Mac Daniel, nothing daunted, though well he knew the little man to belong to the

Is it I pay you?" said Billy; "could I not just take you up and put you in my pocket as easily as a blackberry?"

"Billy Mac Daniel," said the little man, getting very angry, 'you shall be my servant for seven years and a day, and that is the way I will be paid: so make ready to follow me.

When Billy heard this he began to be very sorry for having used such bold words towards the little man; and he felt himself, yet could not tell how, obliged to follow the little man the livelong night about the country, up and down, and over hedge and ditch, and through bog and brake, without any rest.

When morning began to dawn the little man turned round to him and said, "You may now go home, Billy, but on your peril don't fail to meet me in the Fortfield to-night; or if you do, it may be the worse for you in the long-run. If I find you a good servant, you will find me an indulgent master.

:

Home went Billy Mac Daniel; and though he was tired and wearied enough, never a wink of sleep could he get for thinking of the little man and he was afraid not to do his bidding, so up he got in the evening, and away he went to the Fort-field. He was not long there before the little man came towards him and said, "Billy, I want to go a long journey tonight; so saddle one of my horses, and you may saddle another for yourself, as you are to go along with me, and may be tired after your walk last night.'

Billy thought this very considerate of his master, and thanked him accordingly. "But," said he, "if I may be so bold, sir. I would ask which is the way to your stable, for never a thing do I see but the Fort here, and the old tree in the corner of the field, and the stream running at the bottom of the hill, with the bit of bog over against us."

Why, upon horseback, like me, to be sure," said the little man.

"Is it after making a fool of me you'd be," said Billy, “bidding me get aa-horseback upon that bit of a rush? Maybe you want to persuade me that the rush I pulled but a while ago out of the bog there is a horse."

66

་་

Up! up! and no words," said the little man, looking very angry, the best horse you ever rode was but a fool to it. So Billy, thinking all this was in joke, and fearing to vex his master, straddled across the rush: "Borram! Borram! Borram!" cried the little man three times (which in English means to become great), and Billy did the same after him: presently the rushes swelled up into fine horses, and away they went full speed; but Billy, who had put the rush between his legs without much minding how he did it, found himself sitting on horseback the wrong way, which was rather awkward, with his face to the horse's tail; and so quickly had his steed started off with him, that he had no power to turn round, and there was therefore nothing for it but to hold on by the tail.

66

At last they came to their journey's end, and stopped at the gate of a fine house: Now, Billy," said the little man, “do as you see me do, and follow me close; but as you did not know your horse's head from his tail, mind that your own head does not spin round until you can't tell whether you are standing on it or on your heels."

The little man then said some queer kind of words, out of which Billy could make no meaning; but he contrived to say them after him for all that; and in they both went through the keyhole of the door, and through one keyhole after another, until they got into the wine-cellar, which was well stored with all kinds of wine.

The little man fell to drinking as hard as he could, and Billy, nowise disliking the example, did the same. "The best of masters are you, surely," said Billy to him, no matter who is the next; and well pleased will I be with your service if you continue to give me plenty to drink."

"I have made no bargain with you," said the little man, and will make none; but up and follow me. Away they went, through keyhole after keyhole; and each mounting upon the rush which he left at the hall door, scampered off, kicking the clouds before them like snowballs, as soon as the words, "Borram! Borram! Borram!" had passed their lips.

When they came back to the Fort-field, the little man dismissed Billy, bidding him to be there the next night at the same hour. Thus did they go on, night after night, shaping their course one night here, and another night there; sometimes north, and sometimes east, and sometimes south, until there was not a gentleman's wine-cellar in all Ireland they had not visited, and could tell the flavor of every wine in it as well-ay, better-than the butler himself.

One night when Billy Mac Daniel met the little man as usual in the Fort-field, and was going to the bog to fetch the horses for their journey, his master said to him, "Billy, I shall want another horse to-night, for maybe we may bring back more company with us than we take." So Billy, who now knew better than to question any order given to him by his master, brought a third rush, much wondering who it might be that would travel back in their company, and whether he was about to have a fellow-servant. "If I have," thought Billy, "he shall go and fetch the horses from the bog every night; for I don't see why I am not every inch of me, as good a gentleman as my master.'

Well, away they went, Billy leading the third horse, and never stopped until they came to a snug farmer's house in the county of Limerick, close under the old castle of Carrigogunniel, that was built, they say, by the great Brian Boru. Within the house there was great carousing going forward, and the little man stopped outside for some time to listen; then turning round all of a sudden, said, "Billy, I will be a thousand years old to-morrow.'

66 Don't say those words again," said the little man, or you will be my ruin forever. Now, Billy, as I will be a thousand years in the world to-morrow, I think it is full time for me to get married.”

"I think so, too, without any kind of doubt at all," said Billy, "if ever you mean to marry.

And to that purpose," said the little man, have I come all the way to Carrigogunniel; for in this house, this very night, is young Darby Riley going to be married to Bridget Rooney; and as she is a tall and comely girl, and has come of decent people, I think of marrying her myself, and taking her off with me.

And what will Darby Riley say to that?" said Billy,

"Silence!" said the little man, putting on a mighty severe look, "I did not bring you here with me to ask questions;" and without holding further argument, he began saying the queer words which had the power of passing him through the keyhole as free as air, and which Billy thought himself mighty clever to be able to say after him.

In they both went; and for the better viewing the company, the little man perched himself up as nimbly as a cocksparrow upon one of the big beams which went across the house over all their heads, and Billy did the same upon another facing him; but not being much accustomed to roosting in such a place, his legs hung down as untidy as may be, and it was quite clear he had not taken pattern after the way in which the little man had bundled himself up together. If the little man had been a tailor all his life, he could not have sat more contentedly upon his haunches.

There they were, both master and man, looking down upon the fun that was going forward; and under them were the priest and piper-and the father of Darby Riley, with Darby's two brothers and his uncle's son-and they were both the father and mother of Bridget Rooney, and proud enough the old couple were that night of their daughter, as good right they had-and her four sisters, with brand new ribbons in their caps, and her three brothers, all looking as clean and as clever as any three boys in Munster-and there were uncles and aunts, and gossips and