“Couldn’t come any sooner, sir.”

“You couldn’t, sir—­and why, sir, couldn’t you come any sooner’, sir?”

“See, sir, what Andy Nowlan done to my copy.”—­(Buz, buz, buz.)—­

“Silence, I’ll massacree yez if yez don’t make less noise.”—­(Buz, buz, buz.)

“I was down with Mrs. Kavanagh, sir.”

“You were, Paddy—­an’ Paddy, ma bouchal, what war you doing there, Paddy?”

“Masther, sir, spake to Jem Kenny here; he made my nose bleed.”—­

“Eh, Paddy?”

“I was br ingin’ her a layin’ hen, sir, that my mother promised her at mass on Sunday last.”

“Ah, Paddy, you’re a game bird, yourself, wid your layin’ hens; you’re as full o’ mischief as an egg’s full o’ mate—­(omnes—­ha, ha, ha, ha!)—­Silence, boys—­what are you laughin’ at?—­ha, ha, ha!—­Paddy, can you spell Nebachodnazure for me?”

“No, sir.”

“No, nor a better scholar, Paddy, could not do that, ma bouchal; but I’ll spell it for you.  Silence, boys—­whist, all of yez, till I spell Nebachodnazure for Paddy Magouran.  Listen; and you yourself, Paddy, are one of the letthers: 

     A turf and a clod spells Nebachod—­
     A knife and a razure, spells Nebachodnazure—­
     Three pair of boots and five pair of shoes—­
     Spells Nebachodnazure, the king of the Jews.’

Now, Paddy, that’s spelling Nebachodnazure by the science of Ventilation; but you’ll never go that deep, Paddy.”—­

“I want to go out, if you plase, sir.”

“Is that the way you ax me, you vagabone?”

“I want to go out, sir,”—­(pulling down the fore lock.)

“Yes, that’s something dacenter; by the sowl of Newton, that invinted fluxions, if ever you forgot to make a bow again, I’ll nog the enthrils out of you—­wait till the Pass comes in.”

Then comes the spelling lesson.  “Come, boys, stand up to the spelling lesson.”

“Mickey,” says one urchin, “show me your book, till I look at my word.  I’m fifteenth.”

“Wait till I see my own.”

“Why do you crush for?”

“That’s my place.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Sir, spake to---------I’ll tell the masther.”

“What’s the matther there?”

“Sir, he won’t let me into my place.”

“I’m before you.”

“No you’re not.”

“I say, I am.”

“You lie, pug-face:  ha!  I called you pug-face, tell now if you dare.”

“Well boys, down with your pins in the book:  who’s king?”

“I am, sir.”

“Who’s queen?”

“Me, sir.”

“Who’s prince?”

“I am prince, sir.”

“Tag rag and bob-tail, fall into your places.”

“I’ve no pin, sir.”

“Well down with you to the tail——­now, boys."*