should pass out o' the world widout either bein' bate or marrid.
Have reason, Mr. O'Connor, an' if you can help me to the wife I
promise to take in your coat the next time for nothin'."

"Well, then," said Mr. O'Connor, "what would you think of the
butcher's daughter, Biddy Neil? You have always had a thirst for
blood, and here you may have it gratified in an innocent manner,
should you ever become sanguinary again. 'T is true, Neal, she is
twice your size and possesses three times your strength; but for
that very reason, Neal, marry her if you can. Large animals are
placid; and Heaven preserve those bachelors whom I wish well from
a small wife; 't is such who always wield the sceptre of domestic
life and rule their husbands with a rod of iron."

"Say no more, Mr. O'Connor," replied the tailor; "she's the very
girl I'm in love wid, an' never fear but I'll overcome her heart
if it can be done by man. Now, step over the way to my house, an'
we'll have a sup on the head o' it. Who's that calling?"

"Ah, Neal, I know the tones--there's a shrillness in them not to
be mistaken. Farewell! I must depart; you have heard the proverb,
'Those who are bound must obey.' Young Jack, I presume, is squalling,
and I must either nurse him, rock the cradle, or sing comic tunes
for him, though Heaven knows with what a disastrous heart I often
sing, 'Begone, dull care,' the 'Rakes of Newcastle,' or, 'Peas upon
a Trencher.' Neal, I say again, pause before you take this leap in
the dark. Pause, Neal, I entreat you. Farewell!"

Neal, however, was gifted with the heart of an Irishman, and scorned
caution as the characteristic of a coward; he had, as it appeared,