him."

"Divil a bit they sway him, sir," replied Andy; "he'll damn and abuse
them and their religion, and yet he'll go any length to serve one o'
them, if they want a friend, and has a good character. But here, now
we're at the gate of the avenue, and you'll soon see the _Cooleen Bawn_"

"Hallo!" the squire shouted out, "what the devil! are you dead or asleep
there? Brady, you Papist scoundrel, why not open the gate?"

The porter's wife came out as he uttered the words, saying, "I beg your
honor's pardon. Ned is up at the Castle;" and whilst speaking she opened
the gate.

"Ha, Molly!" exclaimed her master in a tone of such bland good nature as
could not for a moment be mistaken; "well, Molly, how is little Mick? Is
he better, poor fellow?"

"He is, thank God, and your honor."

"Hallo, Molly," said the squire, laughing, "that's Popery again. You are
thanking God and me as if we were intimate acquaintances. None of that
foolish Popish nonsense. When you thank God, thank him; and when you
thank me, why thank me; but don't unite us, as you do him and your
Popish saints, for I tell you, Molly, I'm no saint; God forbid! Tell the
doctorman to pay him every attention, and to send his bill to me when
the child is properly recovered; mark that--properly recovered."

A noble avenue, that swept along with two or three magnificent bends,
brought them up to a fine old mansion of the castellated style, where