scholarship."

"Well, Mr. Ambrose," rejoined the pedagogue, who felt disposed to draw
in his horns a little, "one thing is clear, that, between us both, we
did it. What bait, what line, what calling, or profession in life, do
you propose to yourself, Mr. Ambrose? Your course in college has been
brilliant so far, thanks to--ahem--no matter--you have distinguished
yourself."

"I have carried everything before me," replied Ambrose--"but what then?
Suppose, my worthy old magister, that I miss a fellowship--why,
what remains, but to sink down into a resident mastership, and grind
blockheads for the remainder of my life? But what though I fail
in science, still, most revered and learned O'Donegan, I have
ambition--ambition--and, come how it may, I will surge up out of
obscurity, my old buck. I forgot to tell you, that I got the first
classical premium yesterday, and that I am consequently--no, I didn't
forget to tell you, because I didn't know it myself when I saw you
to-day. Hip, hip--hurra!"

His two male companions filled their glasses, and joined him heartily.
O'Donegan shook him by the hand, so did Corbet, and they now could
understand the cause of his very natural elevation of spirits.

"So you have all got legacies," proceeded Mr. Ambrose; "fifty pounds
apiece, I hear, by the death of your brother, Mr. Corbet, who was
steward to Lady Gourlay--I am delighted to hear it--hip, hip, hurra,
again."

"It's true enough," observed the prophetess, "a good, kind-hearted man