would you. I had rather see him hanged, d'ye see. Come along, Rory, I
perceive how the land lies, my boy; let's tack about--i'faith, while I
have a shilling, thou sha'n't want a sixpence. Bye, old gentleman,
you're bound for the other world, but damnably ill provided for the
voyage."

Thus ended our visit, and we returned to the village, my uncle muttering
curses all the way against the old shark and the young fry that
surrounded him.


_II.--I Arrive in London_


A few weeks after our first visit, we were informed that the old judge,
conscious of his approaching end, had made his will, and desired to see
all his descendants. So my uncle set out with me a second time, and when
we entered his chamber we found my grandfather in his last agonies. My
uncle approached him with these words: "How fare ye, old
gentleman?--Lord have mercy upon your poor sinful soul. Here's poor Rory
come to see you before you die, and receive your blessing. What, man!
Don't despair--you have been a great sinner, 'tis true. What then?
There's a righteous judge above--ain't there?--Yes, yes, he's agoing--He
minds me no more than a porpoise, the land crabs will have him, I see
that--his anchor's apeak, i'faith."

In a few minutes we were convinced of my grandfather's decease, by a
dismal yell uttered by the young ladies in his apartment.

It was not till after the funeral that the will was read, and the reader