“Come, come, Judy,” the inspector said, “we have heard your complaints so often that we don’t believe them.  Let me have the thirty-four shillings without delay.”

“Who do you call Judy?  I’m Mrs. Michael O’Flaherty, and a bitter husband and one more honest don’t exist; and that’s more than I can say of some women who’s got husbands tied to ’em.  It’s little ye think I know of ye; so don’t, if ye valey yer reputations, stand there chattering, but pass on to thim that gets the money.”

“We are not afraid of our reputation, Judy,” the inspector said.  “We know that you are bad, but we don’t believe that you can corrupt the whole of the squad.”

“O, ye murdering villains, to thus slander an honest female who has only her vartue to protect her.”  Then raising her voice as though to attract the attention of some one within the house, she shouted, in satirical language, “It’s little me husband cares about me, or he’d niver stand by and see me treated thus, and I niver making the least complaint in the world.  It’s mighty fine husbands there is in the world now, and it’s little use they are to us fable females.”

As though to avenge her injuries on some one, she gave the child a rap over a certain portion of his anatomy that presented the broadest disk, and his wild howls were heard for half a mile.

“If there’s law to be had in this country I’ll have it,” Judy continued, growing more excited as she recited her wrongs.  “If ye want yer tax, why don’t ye come here after it in a dacent fashion, and not begin by insulting me and me own, and then frightening the child out of its wits.  Didn’t yer mothers larn ye manners at all, and do ye think we can stand all sorts of barbarities?”

Before the inspector could return an answer, a stout, broad-shouldered fellow sneaked to the door, and his appearance was greeted with laughter.

“We have unkennelled the fox, have we?” the sergeant of the squad said.  “Hitherto we have had to dig for him.”

“Come, Mike, where is your tax?” asked the inspector, in a mild tone.

“He’s no money, I tell ye,” screamed the woman, shaking one of her huge fists at the officer in a defiant manner, and glancing towards her lord, as though warning him of the consequences of gainsaying her word.  “I’ve told ye that he’d no money, and now be off, and the divil go wid ye.”

“Pace, Judy, dear,” remonstrated Mike, in a subdued tone; “it’s the police who always behave like rale gentlemen.”

“Hear him,” screamed the indignant woman, “turn upon his own lawful, married wife, and abuse her like a baste.  Why don’t ye bite me in two, ye little brat?”

She gave her child a shake that made him think there was an earthquake, and then supplied him with a liberal allowance of food that kind nature had wisely provided for the purpose of keeping children quiet, even for a few minutes.

“Whist, Judy; don’t be after trating the child that way,” remonstrated the father, who appeared to have some spirit when the welfare of his heir was concerned.