“What’s the matter?” said he, “what is it, Phil?”

“Why, d—­n my honor,” replied Phil, “but that scoundrel O’Hare, had the assurance to come to me thirty shillings short of his rent, and, what is more, only brought me a part of it in gold!”

“God help me!” exclaimed poor O’Hare, “I know not what to do—­sure I did the—­best I could.”

He then went out to the hall, and was about to leave the house, when Val rising, called him into another room, where both remained for a few minutes, after which the man went away, thanking his honor, and praying God to bless him; and Val, having; seated himself at the desk, appeared to feel rather pleased at their little interview than otherwise.

“Ah, my dear friend, M’Clutchy,” said Solomon, “you are a treasure in your way—­when you do a kind act it is always in secret, ever mindful of our spiritual obligations, my friend.”

“Why,” said Val, “a man is not always to trumpet forth any little act of kindness he may choose to render to a poor simple fellow like O’Hare.  You mustn’t mind him, Phil—­I have told him not to be in a hurry, but to take his time.”

“Very well,” said Phil, who had just knowledge enough of his father’s villany, to feel satisfied, that in whatever arrangement took place between them, O’Hare’s interest was not consulted;* “very well; d—­n my honor, I suppose it’s all right, old cock.”

     * This scene is verbatim et literatim from life.

Our readers, we presume, have already observed, that however tenderly our friend Solomon felt for the shearing habit of the poor, he was somehow rather reluctant in offering a word in season to any one else.  What his motive could be for this we are really at a loss to know, unless it proceeded from a charitable consciousness, that as there was no earthly hope of improving them by admonition, it was only deepening their responsibility to give it—­for Solomon was charitable in all things.

“Call in Tom Maguire, from Edenmore,” said Val.  “Now,” he proceeded, “this is a stiff-necked scoundrel, who refuses to vote for us; but it will go hard, or I shall work him to some purpose.  Well, Maguire,” he proceeded, after the man had entered, “I’m glad to see you—­how do you do?”

“I’m much obliged to you, sir,” replied the other—­“why just able to make both ends barely meet, and no more; but as the time goes, sure it’s well to be able to do that same, thank goodness.”

“Tom,” said Solomon, “I am pleased to hear you speak in such a spirit; that was piously expressed—­very much so indeed.”

“Well, Tom,” proceeded Val; “I suppose you are prepared?”

“Why, sir,” replied Tom, who, by the way, was a bit of a wag; “you know, or at least Mr. M’Slime does, that it’s good to be always prepared.  The rent in full is there, sir,” he added, laying it down on the table; “and I’ll thank you for the receipt.”

Val deliberately reckoned over the gold—­for in no other coin would he receive it—­and then drew a long breath, and appeared satisfied, but not altogether free from some touch of hesitation.