When Jemmy entered, he looked first at the master for his welcome; but the master, who verified the proverb, that there are none so blind as those who will not see, took no notice whatsoever of him.  The boy then looked timidly about the school in quest of a friendly face, and indeed few faces except friendly ones were turned upon him.

Several of the scholars rose up simultaneously to speak to him; but the pedagogue angrily inquired why they had left their seats and their business.

“Why, sir,” said a young Munsterman, with a fine Milesian face—­“be gorra, sir, I believe if we don’t welcome the poor scholar, I think you won’t.  This is the boy, sir, that Mr. O’Brien came along wid yistherday, an’ spoke so well of.”

“I know that, Thady; and Misther O’Brien thinks, because he himself first passed through that overgrown hedge-school wid slates upon the roof of it, called Thrinity College, and matriculated in Maynooth afther, that he has legal authority to recommend every young vagrant to the gratuitous benefits of legitimate classicality.  An’ I suppose, that you are acting the Pathrun, too, Thady, and intind to take this young wild-goose under your protection?”

“Why, sir, isn’t he a poor scholar?  Sure he mustn’t want his bit an’ sup, nor his night’s lodgin’, anyhow.  You’re to give him his larnin’ only, sir.”

“I suppose so, Mr. Thaddeus; but this is the penalty of celebrity.  If I weren’t so celebrated a man for classics as I am, I would have none of this work.  I tell you, Thady, if I had fifty sons I wouldn’t make one o’ them celebrated.”

“Wait till you have one first, sir, and you may make him as great a numskull as you plase, Master.”

“But in the meantime, Thady, I’ll have no dictation from you, as to whether I have one or fifty; or as to whether he’ll be an ass or a Newton.  I say that a dearth of larnin’ is like a year of famine in Ireland.  When the people are hard pushed, they bleed the fattest bullocks, an’ live on their blood; an’ so it is wid us Academicians.  It’s always he that has the most larned blood in his veins, and the greatest quantity of it that such hungry leeches fasten on.”

“Thrue for you, sir,” said the youth with a smile; “but they say the bullocks always fatten the betther for it.  I hope you’ll bleed well now, sir.”

“Thady, I don’t like, the curl of your nose; an’, moreover, I have always found you prone to sedition.  You remember your conduct at the ‘Barring out.’  I tell you it’s well that your worthy father is a dacent wealthy man, or I’d be apt to give you a memoria technica on the subtratum, Thady.”

“God be praised for my father’s wealth, sir!  But I’d never wish to have a good memory in the way you mention.”

“Faith, an’ I’ll be apt to add that to your other qualities, if you don’t take care of yourself.”

“I want no such addition, Masther; if you do, you’ll be apt to subtract yourself from this neighborhood, an’, maybe, ther’e won’t be more than a cipher gone out of it, afther all.”