History of the Young Ascanius, a name by which the Pretender was designated, and the Renowned History of the Siege of Troy; the Forty Thieves, Robin Hood’s Garland, the Garden of Love and Royal Flower of Fidelity, Parismus and Parismenos; along with others, the names of which shall not appear on these pages.  With this specimen of education before our eyes, is it not extraordinary that the people of Ireland should be in general, so moral and civilized a people as they are?

“Thady Bradly, will you come up wid your slate, till I examine you in your figures?  Go out, sir, and blow your nose first, and don’t be after making a looking-glass out of the sleeve of your jacket.  Now that Thady’s out, I’ll hould you, boys, that none of yez knows how to expound his name—­eh? do ye?  But I needn’t ax—­well, ’tis Thaddeus; and, maybe, that’s as much as the priest that christened him knew.  Boys, you see what it is to have the larnin’—­to lade the life of a gintleman, and to be able to talk deeply wid the clargy!  Now I could run down any man in arguin’, except a priest; and if the Bishop was after consecratin’ me, I’d have as much larnin’ as some of them; but you see I’m not consecrated—­and—­well, ’tis no matther—­I only say that the more’s the pity.”

“Well, Thady, when did you go into subtraction?”

“The day beyond yesterday, sir; yarra musha, sure ’twas yourself, sir, that shet me the first sum.”

“Masther, sir, Thady Bradly stole my cutter—­that’s my cutter, Thady Bradly.”

“No it’s not” (in a low voice).

“Sir, that’s my cutter—­an’ there’s three nicks in id.”

“Thady, is that his cutter?”

“There’s your cutter for you.  Sir, I found it on the flure and didn’t know who own’d it.”

“You know’d very well who own’d it; didn’t Dick Martin see you liftin’ it off o’ my slate, when I was out?”

“Well, if Dick Martin saw him, it’s enough:  an’ ’tis Dick that’s the tindher-hearted boy, an’ would knock, you down wid a lump of a stone, if he saw you murdherin’ but a fly!”

“We’ll, Thady—­throth Thady, I fear you’ll undherstand subtraction better nor your teacher:  I doubt you’ll apply it to ‘Practice’ all your life, ma bouchal, and that you’ll be apt to find it ’the Rule of False’* at last.  Well, Thady, from one thousand pounds, no shillings, and no pince, how will you subtract one pound?  Put it down on your slate—­this way,

     The name of a ‘Rule’ in Gough’s Arithmetic.

1000 00 00

1 00 00”

“I don’t know how to shet about it, masther.”

“You don’t, an’ how dare you tell me so you shingaun you—­you Cornelius Agrippa you—­go to your sate and study it, or I’ll—­ha! be off, you.”—­

“Pierce Butler, come up wid your multiplication.  Pierce, multiply four hundred by two—­put it down—­that’s it,

400

By 2”

“Twice nought is one.” (Whack, whack.)