anything but an agreeable humor. Having dismounted, he was about to
enter the hall-door, when his attention was directed towards that of the
kitchen by a rather loud hammering, and on turning his eyes to the
spot he found two or three tinkers very busily engaged in soldering,
clasping, and otherwise repairing certain vessels belonging to that warm
and spacious establishment. The leader of these vagrants was a man named
Philip Hogan, a fellow of surprising strength and desperate character,
whose feats of hardihood and daring had given him a fearful notoriety
over a large district of the country. Hogan was a man whom almost every
one feared, being, from confidence, we presume, in his great strength,
as well as by nature, both insolent, overbearing, and ruffianly in the
extreme. His inseparable and appropriate companion was a fierce and
powerful bull-dog of the old Irish breed, which he had so admirably
trained that it was only necessary to give him a sign, and he would
seize by the throat either man or beast, merely in compliance with the
will of his master. On this occasion he was accompanied by two of his
brothers, who were, in fact, nearly as impudent and offensive ruffians
as himself. Hycy paused for a moment, seemed thoughtful, and tapped his
boot with the point of his whip as he looked at them. On entering the
parlor he found dinner over, and his father, as was usual, waiting to
get his tumbler of punch.

"Where's my mother?" he asked--"where's Mrs. Burke?"

On uttering the last words he raised his voice so as she might
distinctly hear him.

"She's above stairs gettin' the whiskey," replied his father, "and God
knows she's long enough about it."