about Dionnisis, it's so long and larned a word."

"It is a larned word, no doubt; but she must persevere until she's able
to masther it. I wouldn't for three tenpennies that the priest would
hear one of you call me Dinny; it would degradate me very much in his
estimation. At all events, if my mother cannot manage the orthography of
Dionysius, let it be Denis, or anything but that signature of vulgarity,
Dinny. Now, father, you won't neglect to revale what I've ordered to the
family?"

"No, indeed, I will not, avick--I mane--Dionnisis, avourneen--I'll tell
them everything as you ordhered; but as to Dionnisis, I'm cock sure that
poor Mave will never be able to get her ould tongue about so newfangled
a piece of larnin' as that is. Well, well, this knowledge bates the
world!"

When the horse was saddled, and Dionysius on his way with all due pomp
to the Station, old Denis broke the matter to his wife.

"Mave, achora," said,he, "I have sthrange news to tell you: sure
Dionnisis is goin' to make himself a gintleman."

"Sure what?"

"Dionnisis, our son Dionnisis, is goin' to make himself a gintleman;
he'll ate no longer widout a knife and fork."

"Saints about us!" exclaimed Mave, rising and looking with alarm into
her husband's face--"saints about us, Denis, what is it ails you? Sure
there would be nothin' wrong wid you about the head, Denis? or maybe