In a glass-case on the counter were exhibited patent medicines, Birmingham
jewellery, court-plaister, and side-combs. Behind the counter might be seen
Mr. Matthew Tibbins, quite a precedent for country shop-keepers, with
uncommonly fair hair and slender fingers, a profusion of visible linen, and
a most engaging lisp. In addition to his personal attractions, Tibbins
possessed a large stock of accomplishments, which, like his goods, "might
safely challenge competition." He was an acknowledged wit, and retailed
compliments and cotton balls to the young ladies who visited his emporium.
As a poet, too, his merits were universally known; for he had once
contributed a poetic charade to the _Ladies' Almanack_. He, moreover,
played delightfully on the Jews'-harp, knew several mysterious tricks in
cards, and was an adept in the science of bread and butter-cutting, which
made him a prodigious favourite with maiden aunts and side-table cousins.
This was the individual whom fate had ordained to cross and thwart Terence
in his designs upon the heart of Miss Biddy O'Brannigan, and upon whom that
young lady, in sport or caprice, bestowed a large dividend of those smiles
which Terence imagined should be devoted solely to himself.

The man of small wares was, in truth, a dangerous rival, from his very
insignificance. Had he been a man of spirit or corporal consideration,
Terence would have pistolled or thrashed him out of his audacious notions;
but the creature was so smiling and submissive that he could not, for the
life of him, dirty his fingers with such a contemptible wretch. Thus
Tibbins continued flattering and wriggling himself into Miss Biddy's good
graces, while Terence was fighting and kissing the way to her heart, till
the poor girl was fairly bothered between them.

Miss Biddy O'Brannigan, I should have told you, sir, was an heiress, valued
at one thousand pounds in hard cash, living with an old aunt at Rookawn
Lodge, about six miles from Ballybreesthawn; and to this retreat of the