“Ay, ay, the boy has his faults, and who has not; I’d be glad to know?  If he’s lively, it’s betther to be that, than a mosey, any day.  His brother Frank is a good boy, but sure divil a squig of spunk or spirits is in him, an’, my dear, you know the ould proverb, that a standin’ pool always stinks, while the runnin’ strame is sweet and clear to the bottom.  If he’s proud, he has a right to be proud, and why shouldn’t he, seein’ that it’s well known he could take up more larnin’ than half the school.”

“Well, but poor Frank’s a harmless boy, and never gave offence to mortual, which, by the same token, is more than can be said of Art the lad.”

“Very well, we know all that; and maybe it ’ud be betther for himself if he had a sharper spice of the dioual in him—­but sure the poor boy hasn’t the brain for it.  Offence! oh, the dickens may seize the offence poor Frank will give to man or woman, barrin’ he mends his manners, and gats a little life into him—­sure he was a year and a day in the Five Common Rules, an’ three blessed weeks gettin’ the Multiplication Table.”

Such, in general, was the estimate formed of their respective characters, by those who, of course, had an opportunity of knowing them best.  Whether the latter were right or wrong will appear in the sequel, but in the meantime we must protest, even in this early stage of our narrative, against those popular exhibitions of mistaken sympathy, which in early life—­the most dangerous period too—­are felt and expressed for those who, in association with weak points of character, give strong indications of talent.  This mistaken generosity is pernicious to the individual, inasmuch as it confirms him in the very errors which he should correct, and in the process of youthful reasoning, which is most selfish, induces him not only to doubt the whisperings of his own conscience, but to substitute in their stead the promptings of the silliest vanity.

Having thus given a rapid sketch of these two brothers in their schoolboy life, we now come to that period at which their father thought proper to apprentice them.  The choice of the trade he left to their own natural judgment, and as Frank was the eldest, he was allowed to choose first.  He immediately selected that of a carpenter, as being clean, respectable, and within-doors; and, as he added—­

“Where the wages is good—­and then I’m tould that one can work afther hours, if they wish.”

“Very well,” said the father, “now let us hear, Art; come, alanna, what are you on for?”

“I’ll not take any trade,” replied Art.

“Not take any trade, Art! why, my goodness, sure you knew all along that you war for a trade.  Don’t you know when you and Frank grow up, and, of course, must take the world on your heads, that it isn’t this strip of a farm that you can depend on.”

“That’s what I think of,” said Frank; “one’s not to begin the world wid empty pockets, or, any way, widout some ground to put one’s foot on.”