turn av his spache whin he was not takin' care to talk rough that
he was a gentleman ranker.

I do not undherstan' ut at all,' I sez; 'but I know,' sez I, 'that
the divil looks out av your eyes, an' I'll have no share wid you.
A little fun by way av amusemint where 't will do no harm, Larry,
is right and fair, but I am mistook if 'tis any amusemint to you,'
I sez.

"'You are much mistook,' he sez. 'An' I counsel you not to judge
your betters.'

"'My betthers!' I sez. 'God help you, Larry. There's no betther in
this. 'Tis all bad, as you will find for yoursilf.'

"You're not like me,' he says, tossin' his head.

"'Praise the Saints, I am not,' I sez. 'Fwhat I have done I have
done an' been crool sorry for. Fwhin your time comes,' sez I,
'ye'll remimber fwhat I say.'

"'An' whin that time comes,' sez he, 'I'll come to you for ghostly
consolation, Father Terence,' an' at that he wint off afther some
more divil's business - for to get expayrience, he tould me. He
was wicked - rank wicked - wicked as all Hell! I'm not construct
by nature to go in fear av any man, but, begad, I was afraid av
Larry. He'd come in to barricks wid his cap on three hairs, an'
lie on his cot and stare at the ceilin', and now an' again he'd
fetch a little laugh, the like av a splash in the bottom av a
well, an' by that I knew he was schamin' new wickedness, an' I'd