“And very creditable to Swiggerly,” added O’Driscol.

“Yes, father,” replied Fergus, “but I think he ought to preserve, if possible, a little more originality.  The substance of that paragraph has been regularly in his paper, in one shape or other, three or four times a year during the last couple of years.  I ought to except the introduction of the threatening notice, which certainly is a new feature, and the only new one in it.”

“Fergus,” said the father, whilst his round, red, convivial features became more inflamed, “you are super-critical this morning.”

“Not at all, sir; but you will excuse me for saying, that I think a man who is seeking to ingratiate himself with the government, what is more, to receive substantial favors from it, ought not, from principles of self-respect, to suffer these stereotyped paragraphs to appear from time to time.  Government is not so blind, sir, but they will at once see through the object of such paragraphs.”

“Staryrayotyped!  What the devil, sir, do you mane by staryrayotype?  Do you mane to make a staryrayotype of me?  That’s dutiful, Mr. Fergus—­filial duty, clane and clear—­and no doubt about it.  But I tell you, sir, that in spite of your staryrayotypes, it is such articles as the able one of my friend Swiggerly that constitutes the force of public opinion.  Government!  Why, sir, the government is undher more obligations to me than I am to them.  It was my activity and loyalty that was the manes, principally, of returnin’ the son of the gustus ratalorum of the county for the borough of Addleborough.  He was their own candidate; and if that wasn’t layin’ them undher an obligation to me, I don’t know what was.  You may say what you like, but I repate, it’s a right good, thing to have the force of public opinion in your favor.”

“Yes, of public opinion, I grant you; but surely you cannot pretend, father, that such gross and barefaced flattery as that can be termed public opinion?”

“And why not, sir?  Upon my honor and conscience, things is come to a pretty pass when a man—­a magistrate—­like me, must be lectured by his own son!  Isn’t it too bad, Catherine?”

“I am no politician, you know, but I think he doesn’t mean to lecture you, papa; perhaps you ought to say to reason or remonstrate with—­”

“Raison! remonstrate!  And what right has he aither to raison or remonstrate with a man—­or rather a magistrate—­such as I am known by the government to be.  He calls that paragraph gross and barefaced flattery, and myself a staryrayotype! but I tell him now that it is no flattery, nor anything at all but the downright naked thruth, and no man ought to know that better than I do, for this good raison, that it was myself wrote every line of it, and got Swiggerly only to correct it.”