The progress of his prosperity, dating it from so small a beginning, was decidedly slow.  He owed it principally to the careful habits of Ellish, and his own sobriety.  He was prudent enough to avoid placing any sign in his window, by which his house could be known as a shebeen; for he was not ignorant that there is no class of men more learned in this species of hieroglyphics than excisemen.  At all events, he was prepared for them, had they come to examine his premises.  Nothing that could bring him within the law was ever kept visible.  The cask that contained the poteen was seldom a week in the same place of concealment, which was mostly, as we have said, under ground.  The tobacco was weighed and subdivided into small quantities, which, in addition to what he carried in his pocket, were distributed in various crevices and crannies of the house; sometimes under the thatch; sometimes under a dish on the dresser, but generally in a damp place.

When they had been about two or three years thus employed, Peter, at the solicitation of the wife, took a small farm.

“You’re stout an’ able,” said she; “an’ as I can manage the house widout you, wouldn’t it be a good plan to take a bit o’ ground—­nine or ten acres, suppose—­an’ thry your hand at it?  Sure you wor wanst the greatest man in the parish about a farm.  Surely that ’ud be dacenter nor to be slungein’ about, invintin’ truth and lies for other people, whin they’re at their work, to make thim laugh, an you doin’ nothin’ but standin’ over thim, wid your hands down to the bottom o’ your pockets?  Do, Pether, thry it, avick, an’ you’ll see it ’ill prosper wid us, plase God?’

“Faix I’m ladin’ an asier life, Ellish.”

“But are you ladin’ a dacenter or a more becominer life?”

“Why, I think, widout doubt, that it’s more becominer to walk about like a gintleman, nor to be workin’ like a slave.”

“Gintleman!  Musha, is it to the fair you’re bringin’ yourself?  Why, you great big bosthoon, isn’t it both a sin an’ a shame to see you sailin’ about among the neighbors, like a sthray turkey, widout a hand’s turn to do?  But, any way, take my advice, avillish,—­will you, aroon?—­an’ faix you’ll see how rich we’ll get, wid a blessin’?”

“Ellish, you’re a deludher!”

“Well, an’ what suppose?  To be sure I am.  Usen’t you be followin’ me like a calf afther the finger?—­ha, ha, ha!—­Will you do my biddin’, Pether darlin’?”

Peter gave her a shrewd, significant wink, in contradiction to what he considered the degrading comparison she had just made.

“Ellish, you’re beside the mark, you beauty; always put the saddle on the right horse, woman alive!  Didn’t you often an’ I often swear to me, upon two green ribbons, acrass one another, that you liked a red head best, an’ that the redder it was you liked it the betther?”

“An’ it was thruth, too; an’ sure, by the same a token, whore could I get one half so red as your own?  Faix, I knew what I was about!  I wouldn’t give you yet for e’er a young man in the parish, if I was a widow to-morrow.  Will you take the land?”