« ‹ We munseer,' says he.

"Then would you lind me the loan of a gridiron,' says I, 'if you plaze?'

"Oh, it was thin that they stared at me as if I had sivin heads; and faith myself began to feel flusthered like, and onaisy—and so says I, making a bow and scrape agin, 'I know it's a liberty I take, Sir,' says I, but it's only in the regard of bein' cast away; and if you plaze, Sir, says I, Parly voo Frongsay.'

"We munseer,' says he, mighty sharp.

"Then would you lind me the loan of a gridiron,' says I, and you'll obleege me.'

"Well, Sir, the ould chap began to munseer me, but the divil a bit of a gridiron he'd gie me; and so I began to think they were all neygars, for all their fine manners; and throth my blood began to rise, and says I, 'By my sowl, if it was you was in disthress,' says I, and if it was to ould Ireland you kem, it's not only the gridiron

VOL I.

U

they'd give you, if you ax'd it, but something to put an it too, and the dhrop o' dhrink into the bargain, and cead mile failte.'

"Well, the word cead mile faille seemed to sthreck his heart, and the ould chap cocked his ear, and so I thought I'd give him another offer, and make him sinsible at last; and so says I, wanst more, quite slow, that he might undherstand- Parly-voo-Frongsay, munseer?'

"We munseer,' says he.

"Then lind me the loan of a gridiron, says I,

' and bad scran to you.'

"Well, bad win' to the bit of it he'd gi' me, and the ould chap begins bowin' and scrapin', and said something or other about a long tongs.

66 6 Phoo!-the divil sweep yourself and your tongs,' says I, I don't want a tongs at all at all; but can't you listen to raison,' says I—' Parly voo Frongsay?'

"We munseer.

« ‹ Then lind me the loan of a gridiron,' says I,

and howld your prate.'

6

“Well, what would you think but he shook his owld noddle, as much as to say he wouldn't; and so says I, Bad cess to the likes o' that I ever seen-throth if you were in my country it's not that-a-way they'd use you; the curse o' the crows an you, you owld sinner,' says I, the divil a longer I'll darken your door.'

"So he seen I was vex'd, and I thought, as I was turnin' away, I seen him begin to relint, and that his conscience throubled him ; and says I, turnin' back, 'Well, I'll give you one chance more--you owld thief-are you a Chrishthan at all at all? are you a furriner ?' says I, ' that all the world calls so p'lite. Bad luck to you, do you undherstand your own language?-Parly voo Frongsay?' says I.—“We munseer,' says he.

« ‹ Then thundher and turf,' says I, 'will you lind me the loan of a gridiron ?'

66

Well, Sir, the divil resave the bit of it he'd

gi' me--and so with that, the curse o' the hungry an you, you owld negarly villian,' says I; 'the back o' my hand, and the sowl o' my fut to you; that you may want a gridiron yourself yet,' says I; and wherever I go, high and low, rich and poor, shall hear o' you,' says I; and with that I left them there, and kem away-and in throth its often since that I thought it was remarkable."

HEREDITARY HONOURS.

A TALE OF LOVE AND MYSTERY.

CHAP. I.-The Meeting.

THERE is a certain country not far distant from our own: in a certain small town, close to the metropolis of this country, there once lived a certain young lady of the name of Laura. She was the daughter and sole heiress of an honest gentleman, an attorney at law-and was particularly addicted to novels and falling in love. One day, she was walking in the woods, in a pensive manner, observing how affectionate the little birds