"You see, Hycy, the vulgarian will come out," said his mother. "I say,
Misther Burke, are you to see your son worse mounted at the Herringstown
Hunt than any other gentleman among them? Have you no pride?

"No, thank God! barin' that I'm an honest man an' no gentleman; an', as
for Hycy, Rosha--"

"Mrs. Burke, father, if you please," interposed Hycy; "remember who your
wife is at all events."

"Faith, Hycy, she'll come better off if I forget that same; but I tell
you that instead of bein' the laughin'-stock of the same Hunt, it's
betune the stilts of a plough you ought to be, or out in the fields
keepin' the men to their business."

"I paid three guineas earnest money, at all events," said the son; "but
'it matters not,' as the preacher says--

"'When I was at home I was merry and frisky,
My dad kept a pig and my mother sold whiskey'--

Beg pardon, mother, no allusion--my word and honor none--to you I mean--

"'My uncle was rich, but would never be aisy
Till I was enlisted by Corporal Casey.'

Fine times in the army, Mr. Burke, with every prospect of a speedy
promotion. Mother, my stomach craves its matutinal supply--I'm in
excellent condition for breakfast."