The boy accordingly went out—­“Why,” said Corcoran, in his absence, “if ever there was a phanix, and that boy will be the bird—­an Irish phanix he will be, a

Rara avis in terris, nigroque simillima cygno!

There’s no batin’ him at anything he undher-takes.  Why, there’s thim that are makin’ good bread by their larnin’, that couldn’t resolve that; and you all saw how he did it widout the book!  Why, if he goes on at this rate, I’m afraid he’ll soon be too many for myself—­hem!”

“Too many for yourself!  Fill the masther’s tumbler, Alley.  Too many for yourself!  No, no!  I doubt he’ll never see that day, bright as he is, an’ cute.  That’s it—­put a hape upon it.  Give me your hand, masther.  I thank you for your attention to him, an’ the boy is a credit to us.  Come over, Michael, avourneen.  Here, take what’s in this tumbler, an’ finish it.  Be a good boy and mind your lessons, an’ do everything the masther here—­the Lord bless him!—­bids you; an’ you’ll never want a frind, masther, nor a dinner, nor a bed, nor a guinea, while the Lord spares me aither the one or the other.”

“I know it, Mr. Lanigan, I know it; and I will make that boy the pride of Ireland, if I’m spared.  I’ll show him cramboes that would puzzle the great Scaliger himself; and many other difficulties I’ll let him into, that I have never let out yet, except to Tim Kearney, that bate them all at Thrinity College in Dublin up, last June.”

“Arrah, how was that, Masther?”

“Tim, you see, went in to his Entrance Examinayshuns, and one of the Fellows came to examine him, but divil a long it was till Tim sacked him.

“‘Go back agin’, says Tim, ’and sind some one that’s able to tache me, for you’re not.’

“So another greater scholar agin came to yry Tim, and did thry him, and Tim made a hare of him, before all that was in the place—­five or six thousand ladies and gintlemen, at laste!

“The great learned Fellows thin began to look odd enough; so they picked out the best scholar among them but one, and slipped him at Tim; but well becomes Tim, the never a long it was till he had him, too, as dumb as a post.  The fellow went back—­

“‘Gintlemen,’ says he to the rest, ‘we’ll be disgraced all out,’ says he, ’for except the Prowost sacks that Munsther spalpeen, he’ll bate us all, an’ we’ll never be able to hould up our heads afther.’

“Accordingly, the Prowost attacks Tim; and such a meetin’ as they had, never was seen in Thrinity College since its establishment.  At last when they had been nine hours and a half at it, the Prowost put one word to him that Tim couldn’t expound, so he lost it by one word only.  For the last two hours the Prowost carried on the examinashun in Hebrew, thinking, you see, he had Tim there; but he was mistaken, for Tim answered him in good Munsther Irish, and it so happened that they understood each other, for the two languages are first cousins, or,