At length those who were engaged in the labor of the field departed in
a cheerful group, and in a few minutes the noise of a horse's feet,
evidently proceeding at a rapid trot, was heard coming up the boreen or
avenue towards the house.

"Ay," exclaimed Burke, with a sigh, "there comes Hycy at a trot, an' the
wondher is it's not a gallop. That's the way he'll get through life, I
fear; an' if God doesn't change him he's more likely to gallop himself
to the Staff an' Bag (* Beggary.) than to anything else I know. I can't
nor I won't stand his extravagance--but it's his mother's fault, an'
she'll see what it'll come to in the long run."

He had scarcely concluded when his son entered the kitchen, alternately
singing and whistling the Foxhunter's jig in a manner that betokened
exuberant if not boisterous spirits. He was dressed in top boots,
a green riding-coat, yellow waistcoat, and drab cassimere small
clothes--quite in jockey trim, in fact.

Hycy rather resembled his father in the lineaments of his face, and was,
consequently, considered handsome. He was about the middle size, and
remarkably well proportioned. In fact, it would be exceedingly difficult
to find a young fellow of manlier bearing or more striking personal
attractions. His features were regular, and his complexion fresh and
youthful looking, and altogether there was in his countenance and whole
appearance a cheerful, easy, generous, unreflecting dash of character
that not only made him a favorite on first acquaintance, but won
confidence by an openness of manner that completely disarmed suspicion.
It might have been observed, however, that his laugh, like his mother's,
never, or at least seldom, came directly from the heart, and that there