“Well, sir!” he exclaimed, “although this is the first day you ever set foot on the island, you have seen enough, I hope, to satisfy you that we are not quite such savages as you supposed; liberty hall, you see, is the true title of every Irish gentleman’s dining-room:  there’s no compulsion here, you must see very clearly.”  It was little that my English friend could now see very clearly of anything; but the above premature announcement of victory brought back all the stranger’s suspicions.  Fired with this idea, he started on his feet, and eyeing the door for a long time before he ventured on the voyage, with a bold determination, and taking a good departure from his chair, he gained his port.  He had undoubtedly expected to be lugged back again; for he whisked the tails of his coat out of reach, while, with his other hand on the lock of the door, and swaying himself about from side to side, like a ship in a calm, he stood the very image of tottering equilibrium, as the mathematicians call it.  Our adroit landlord, who was not a man to shrink from difficulties, mustered to his aid all the resources of a long well-practised hospitality, and gallantly met this great occasion.  His devices were, probably, exhausted; so he took another line, and called out, “Oh, you’re off, are you?  Very well—­you’ll find the ladies in the drawing-room.  I think I hear the tinkle of the piano:  I prefer the tinkle of the glass.  Pray tell the damsels we are coming by-and-bye:  mind you say ‘by-and-bye.’  I don’t like to be too particular, for fear of seeming rude:  don’t you see?”

This speech was wound up by a telegraphic flourish of the hand towards Tim, who stood near, with a bottle between his feet, the screw buried in the cork, and his body bent to the effort, which he only delayed to exercise till ordered by his master to pull.  “Out with him, man! out with the cork!” cried the host.  The loud report which succeeded rang over the apartment like the sweetest music to the souls of the ever thirsty company.  Tim’s thunder was echoed back by a truly bacchanalian shout, such as nothing on earth can give proper emphasis to, except a double allowance of claret.  The Englishman, fairly subdued by the sound, glided again to the table; then seizing his brimming glass in one hand, and grasping the fist of his merry host in the other, he roared out,—­

“You really are an uncommon good fellow; and hang me if ever I distrust an Irishman again as long as I live!”

But within three minutes afterwards this promise was broken; for as soon as we had discussed the bottle which the incomparable Tim had so opportunely introduced, the master of the house, seeing us at length quite at his mercy, and eager to go on, rose, and said, to our great amaze,—­

“Come! we’ve had wine enough; let’s join the ladies in the next room.”

The disappointed company stared at one another, and loudly proclaimed that it was not fair to limit them in this way.  The Englishman, in particular, wished to remain; but our host was inexorable.  Meanwhile, Timothy grinned from ear to ear; familiar with his master’s tricks upon travellers; and the landlord deliberately opening the door, marched off the field of battle with flying colours.