"If he's into the big earth here, I'm afraid it's good-bye to him!"
said Dr. Mangan, taking courage in a liquid form. "It was a sweet
gallop while it lasted! Sweet and short, like this toothful of cherry
brandy I'm after drinking!"

"Ah, that's poor stuff, Doctor," said Mr. Hallinan, proprietor of
Hallinan's Hotel, a prosperous hostelry, much patronised by
salmon-fishers. "Give me a sup of good old John Jameson in its
purity!"

"'Twas for Tishy I brought this out," replied the Doctor,
apologetically; "but I lost sight of her. She's back somewhere with
little Christian Lowry and young Coppinger."

"What sort of a lad is that?" asked Mr. Hallinan. "Is he as big a pup
as them young Lowrys?"

"Ah, they're not so bad altogether," said Dr. Mangan, indulgently.
"Young sprigs like them are none the worse for a little _tashpy_,
as the people say!" The Doctor's heavy voice relaxed a little over the
world _tashpy_ (which, it should perhaps be explained, is Irish,
and implies a blend of impudence and high spirits). He was quite aware
that his friend Hallinan and he regarded the Talbot-Lowrys from a
different standpoint.

"I was having a bit of lunch there the other day," he went on, "and I
thought they were nice boys enough."

"I hope you got enough to eat!" said Mr. Hallinan, disagreeably; "I'm
told that their butcher's sick and tired trying to get what he's owed,