was piled up into an immense pyramid in honor of the stranger--was not
ignited until the arrival of the quality. The moment the latter made
their appearance it was set in a flame, and in a few minutes a
blaze issued up from it into the air that not only dimmed the minor
exhibitions, but cast its huge glare over the whole town, making every
house and hut as distinctly visible as if it were broad daylight. Then
commenced the huzzaing--the bells rang out with double energy--the drums
were beaten more furiously--the large bullocks' horns were sounded until
those who blew them were black in the face, and every manifestation of
joy that could be made was resorted to. Fiddles and pipes were in busy
requisition, and "The Boys of Rathfillan," the favorite local air,
resounded in every direction. And now that the master and the quality
had made their appearance, of course the drink should soon follow, and
in a short time the hints to that effect began to thicken.

"Thunder and turf, Jemmy, but this is dry work; my throat's like a
lime-burner's wig for want of a drop o' something to help me for the
cheerin'."

Hould your tongue, Paddy; do you think the masther's honor would allow
us to lose our voices in his behalf. It's himself that hasn't his heart
in a trifle, God bless him."

"Ah, thin, your honor," said another fellow, in tatters, "isn't this
dust and hate enough to choke a bishop? O Lord, am I able to spake at
all? Upon my sowl, sir, I think there's a bonfire in my throath."

Everything, however, had been prepared to meet these demands; and in
about a quarter of an hour barrels of beer and kegs of whiskey were
placed under the management of persons appointed to deal out their