it in both hands, exclaiming:

"Here, father, here goes; to the divil once an' for ever I pitch
slavery," and as he spoke, the spade was sent as far from him as he had
strength to throw it. "To the divil I pitch slavery! An' now, father,
wid the help o' God, this is the last day's work I'll ever put my hand
to. There's no way of larnin' Latin here; but off to Munster I'll start,
an' my face you'll never see in this parish, till I come home either a
priest an a gintleman! But that's not all, father dear; I'll rise you
out of your distress, or die in the struggle. I can't bear to see your
gray hairs in sorrow and poverty."

"Well, Jimmy--well, agra--God enable you, avourneen; 'tis a good
intintion. The divil a one o' me will turn another spadeful aither, for
this day: I'm _dhrookin'_ (* dripping) wid the rain. We'll go home an'
take an air o' the fire we want it; and aftherwards we can talk about
what you're _on_ (* determined) for."

It is usual to attribute to the English and Scotch character,
exclusively, a cool and persevering energy in the pursuit of such
objects as inclination or interest may propose for attainment; whilst
Irishmen are considered too much the creatures of impulse to reach
a point that requires coolness, condensation of thought, and efforts
successively repeated. This is a mistake. It is the opinion of
Englishmen and Scotchmen who know not the Irish character thoroughly.
The fact is, that in the attainment of an object, where a sad-faced
Englishman would despair, an Irishman will, probably, laugh, drink,
weep, and fight, during his progress to accomplish it. A Scotchman will
miss it, perhaps, but, having done all that could be done, he will
try another speculation. The Irishman may miss it too; but to console