glass, Doctor--here's your health! and shoot him, Larry, do you hear,
shoot the Doctor like a cock, if he ever comes stirring up my poor old
bones from their roost of Inistubber." "Why, then," Larry answered,
accepting the glass which followed this command, "long life to both your
honours; and it's I that would like to be putting a bullet into Doctor
Dickenson--heaven between him and harm--for hauling your honour away,
as if you was a horse's head, to a bonfire. There's nothing, I 'shure you,
gintlemin, poor as I am, that would give me greater pleasure." "We feel
obliged, Larry" said Sir Theodore, "for your good wishes." "Is it I pull
you out of the grave, indeed!" continued the whipper-in, for such he was,
--"I'd let nobody pull your honour out of any place, saving 'twas
purgatory; and out of that I'd pull you myself, if I saw you going
_there_." "I am of opinion, Larry," said Doctor Dickenson, "you would
turn tail if you saw Sir Theodore on that road. You might go further, and
fare worse, you know." "Turn tail!" replied Larry, "it is I that
wouldn't--I appale to St. Patrick himself over beyond"--pointing to a
picture of the Prime Saint of Ireland, which hung in gilt daubery behind
his master's chair, right opposite to him. To Larry's horror and
astonishment, the picture fixing its eyes upon him, winked with the most
knowing air, as if acknowledging the appeal. "What makes you turn so
white then at the very thought," said the doctor, interpreting the
visible consternation of our hero in his own way. "Nothing particular,"
answered Larry; "but a wakeness has come strong over me, gintlemin, and
if you'd have no objection, I'd like to go into the air for a bit." Leave
was of course granted, and Larry retired amid the laughter of the
guests--but as he retreated, he could not avoid casting a glance on the
awful picture--and again the Saint winked, with a most malicious smile.
It was impossible to endure the repeated infliction, and Larry rushed
down the stairs in an agony of fright and amazement. "May be," thought
he, "it might be my own eyes that wasn't quite steady--or the flame of