Hand that tumbler here, Charley,--bad as it is, there is no use, as
the proverb says, in laving one's liquor behind them. We will presently
correct it with better drink."

Charley Corbet, for such was the name of the worthy schoolmaster's
nephew, laughed heartily at the eloquence of his uncle, who, he could
perceive, had been tampering a little with something stronger than water
in the course of the evening.

"What can keep this boy." exclaimed Ginty; "he knew we were waiting for
him, and he ought to be here now."

"The youth will come," said the schoolmaster, "and a hospitable youth
he is--_me ipso teste_, as I myself can bear witness. I was in his
apartments in the _Collegium Sanctae Trinitatis_, as they say, which
means the blessed union of dulness, laziness, and wealth, for which
the same divine establishment has gained an appropriate and just
celebrity--I say I was in his apartments, where I found himself and
a few of his brother students engaged in the agreeable relaxation of
taking a hair of the same dog that bit them, after a liberal compotation
on the preceding night. Third place, as a scholar! Well! who may he
thank for that, I interrogate. Not one Denis O'Donegan!--O no; the said
Denis is an ignoramus, and knows nothing of the classics. Well, be it
so. All I say is, that I wish I had one classical lick at their provost,
I would let him know what the master of a plantation seminary (*--a
periphrasis for hedge-school) could do when brought to the larned
scratch?"

"How does Tom look, uncle." asked Corbet; "we can't say that he has
shown much affection for his friends since he went to college."