ago, when he was but "a slip of a boy." The thin collar only reaches
to the upper part of his shoulder; and as he is what is called
"crane-necked," of course the distance between his hat and the collar
is incredible. The arms of the said coat are set so far in, that they
appear almost to meet behind; but, on the other hand, two naked bones,
each about six inches in length, project from the cuffs, which come not
far below his elbows. The coat itself is what is called a jerkin; and
as the buttons behind are half-way up his back, it is a matter of course
that the tail, which runs rapidly to a point, is ludicrously scanty.
Now, that youth, who is probably under no sense of gratitude to the
graces, has put his "co-medher" on the prettiest girl, with one or
two exceptions, in the whole parish. The miserable pitch-fork, the
longitudinal rake--we speak now in a hay-making sense--has contrived
to oust half a dozen of the handsomest and best-looking fellows in the
parish. How he has done this is a mystery to his acquaintances; but
it is none to us--we know him. The kraken has a tongue dripping with
honey--one that would smooth a newly-picked millstone. There they go,
each of them laughing and cheerful, except himself; yet the fellow,
though conscious of his own influence, enters the public-house as if
he were going on the forlorn hope, or trailing his straggling limbs to
confide his last wishes to the ear of the sheriff or hangman. He is,
however, an Irishman at heart, though little indeed of the national
bearing is visible in his deportment.

Here again comes a second group. Keep your eye on that good-humored,
ruddy-faced young man, compact and vigorous, who is evidently the wag of
his party. Observe his tight-titling, comfortable frize, neat brogues,
and breeches, on the knees of which are two double knots of silk ribbon.
See with what a smart, decisive air he wears his hat--"jauntily," as
Leigh Hunt would say--upon one side of his head. That fellow has a high