still worse.  It is true, his wife was outrageous at the bare mention of it; but Jemmy, along with a good deal of blunt sarcasm, had a resolution of his own, and not unfrequently took a kind of good-natured and shrewd delight in opposing her wishes whenever he found them to be unreasonable.  For several months past he could not put his foot out of the door that he was not haunted by honest Gerald Cavanagh, who had only one idea constantly before him, that of raising his daughter to the rank and state in which he knew, or at least calculated that Hycy Burke would keep her.  Go where he might, honest Jemmy was attended by honest Gerald, like his fetch.  At mass, at market, in every fair throughout the country was Cavanagh sure to bring up the subject of the marriage; and what was the best of it, he and his neighbor drank each other’s healths so repeatedly on the head of it, that they often separated in a state that might be termed anything but sober.  Nay, what is more, it was a fact that they had more than once or twice absolutely arranged the whole matter, and even appointed the day for the wedding, without either of them being able to recollect the circumstances on the following morning.

Whilst at breakfast on the morning in question, Burke, after finishing his first cup of tea, addressed his worthy son as follows:—­

“Hycy, do you intend to live always this way?”

“Certainly not, Mr. Burke.  I expect to dine on something more substantial than tea.”

“You’re very stupid, Hycy, not to understand me; but, indeed, you never were overstocked wid brains, unfortunately, as I know to my cost—­but what I mane is, have you any intention of changing your condition in life?  Do you intend to marry, or to go on spendin’ money upon me at this rate!”

“The old lecture, Mrs. Burke,” said Hycy, addressing his mother.  “Father, you are sadly deficient in originality.  Of late you are perpetually repeating yourself.  Why, I suppose to-morrow or next day, you will become geometrical on our hands, or treat us to a grammatical praxis.  Don’t you think it very likely, Mrs. Burke!”

“And if he does,” replied his mother, “it’s not the first time he has been guilty of both; but of late, all the little shame he had, he has lost it.”

“Faith, and if I hadn’t got a large stock, I’d a been run out of it this many a day, in regard of what I had to lose in that way for you, Hycy.  However I’ll thank you to listen to me.  Have you any intention of marryin’ a wife?”

“Unquestionably, Mr. Burke.  Not a doubt of it.”

“Well, I am glad to hear it.  The sooner you’re married, the sooner you’ll settle down.  You’ll know, then, my lad, what life is.”

Honest Jemmy’s sarcasm was likely to carry him too far from his purpose, which was certainly not to give a malicious account of matrimony, but, on the contrary, to recommend it to his worthy son.

“Well, Mr. Burke,” said Hycy, winking at his mother, “proceed.”