Which intention, however, was not then carried into execution, owing to the timely arrival of a red-faced, though rather handsome Irish lady of twenty-five or thirty, who, in the broadest Celtic, commanded the peace, and threatened the combatants with a hot flat-iron, which she brandished in her stalwart fist.

O’Brallaghan laid down the stick which he had seized, and ogled the lady, declaring in words that the wish of mistress O’Callighan was law to him, and that further, he had no desire to fight with the individual before him, who had been making use of abusive and threatening language, and had even drawn his skewer.

Jinks stated that he would have no more altercation with an individual of Mr. O’Brallaghan’s standing in society—­he would not demean himself—­and from that moment shook the dust of his, O’Brallaghan’s, establishment from his, Jinks’, feet.  Which declaration was accompanied with a savage kick upon the door.

O’Brallaghan congratulated himself upon the extreme good fortune for himself involved in Mr. Jinks’ decision, and hoped he would carefully observe the friendly and considerate advice he now gave him, which was, never to show his nose in the shop again during the period of his mundane existence.

Whereupon Jinks, annihilating his adversary with a terrific frown, stated his intention to implicitly observe the counsel given him, and further, to have revenge.

In which O’Brallaghan cheerfully acquiesced, observing that the importance attached by himself to the threats of Mr. Jinks was exactly commensurate with the terror which would be caused him by the kick of a flea.

And so, with mutual and terrible frowns, this alarming interview terminated:  Mr. Jinks grimacing as he departed with awful menace, and getting his grasshopper legs entangled in his sword; Mr. O’Brallaghan remaining behind, though not behind the counter, paying devoted attention to the ruddy and handsome lady with the hot flat-iron, Mistress Judith O’Callighan, who watched the retreating Jinks with tender melancholy.

CHAPTER XXX.

WHAT OCCURRED AT BOUSCH’S TAVERN.

Let us follow Mr. Jinks.

That gentleman went on his way, reflecting upon the step which he had just taken, and revolving in his mind the course which he should pursue in future.

The result of his reflections was, that a matrimonial engagement would just answer his purpose, especially with a lady possessing a “small property—­” at which words, as they left his muttering lips, Jinks frowned.

It was Miss Sallianna’s favorite phrase.

Miss Sallianna!

The tumult which arose in Jinks’ breast upon the thought of that young lady’s treachery toward himself occurred to him, may, as our brother historians are fond of saying, “be better imagined than described.”  Before, Jinks’ brows were corrugated into a frown; now, however, two mountain ridges, enclosing a deep valley, extended from the upper portion of the bridge of the Jinks nose to the middle of the Jinks forehead.