He then walked into the parlor; and as the prophet was beckoned as far as the hall, he had an opportunity of witnessing the interview which took place between this extraordinary pair.  Jemmy, before entering, threw aside his bundle and his hat, stripped off his coat, and in a moment presented himself in the usual striped cotton jacket, with sleeves, which he alway’s wore.  Old Dick was in the act of letting fly an oath at something, when Jemmy, walking in, just as if nothing had happened, exclaimed—­

“Why, thin, Mother o’ Moses, is it at the ould work I find you?  Troth, it’s past counsel, past grace wid you—­I’m afraid you’re too ould to mend.  In the manetime, don’t stare as if you seen a ghost—­only tell us how is that unfortunate leg of yours?”

“Why—­eh?—­ay,—­oh, ah,—­you’re back are you?—­an’ what the devil brought you here again?—­eh?”

“Come now, keep yourself quiet, you onpenitent ould sinner, or it’ll be worse for you.  How is your leg?”

“Ah, you provokin’ ould rascal—­eh?—­so you are back?”

“Don’t you see I am—­who would stick to you like myself, afther all?  Troth I missed your dirty tongue, bad as it is—­divil a thing but rank pace and quietness I was ever in since I seen you last.”

“And devil a scoundrel has had the honesty to give me a single word of abuse to my face since you left me.”

“And how often did I tell you that you couldn’t depind upon the crew that’s around you—­the truth’s not in them—­an’ that you ought to know.  However, so far as I am concerned, don’t fret—­Grod knows I forgive you all your folly and feasthalaga, (* nonsense,) in hopes always that you’ll mend your life in many respects.  You had meself before you as an example, though I say it, that ougtn’t to say it, but you know you didn’t take pattern by me as you ought.”

“Shake hands, Jemmy; I’m glad to see you again; you were put to expense since you went.”

“No, none; no, I tell you.”

“But I say you were.”

“There, keep yourself quiet now; no I wasn’t; an’ if I was, too, what is it to you?”

“Here, put that note in your pocket.”

“Sorra bit, now,” replied Jemmy, “to plaise you,” gripping it tightly at the same time as he spoke; “do you want to vex me again?”

“Put it in your pocket, sirra, unless you want me to break your head.”

“Oh, he would,” said Jemmy, looking with a knowing face of terror towards Tom Booth and the Prophet,—­“it’s the weight of his cane I’d get, sure enough—­but it’s an ould sayin’ an’ a true one, that when the generosity’s in, it must come out.  There now, I’ve put it in my pocket for you—­an’ I hope you’re satisfied.  Devil a sich a tyrant in Europe,” said he, loudly, “when he wishes—­an’ yet, after all,” he added, in a low, confidential voice, just loud enough for his master to hear,—­“where ’ud one get the like of him?  Tom Booth, desire them to fetch warm water to the study, till I dress his poor leg, and make him fit for business.”