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shister both at once. "How better?" says she; "why, what signifies it to be my lady Rackrent, and no castle? sure what good is the car, and no horse to draw it?" "And where will ye get the horse, Judy?" says I. "Never mind that," says she, may be it is your own son Jason might find that." "Jason!" says I; "don't be trusting to him, Judy. Sir Condy, as I have good reason to know, spoke well of you, when Jason spoke very indifferently of you, Judy." "No matter," says Judy, "it's often men speak the contrary just to what they think of us. " And the same way you of them, no doubt," answers I. 66 Nay, don't be denying it, Judy, for I think the better of ye for it, and shouldn't be proud to call ye the daughter of a shister's son of mine, if I was to hear ye talk ungrateful, and any way dis→ respectful of his honour." "What disrespect," says she, "to say I'd rather, if it was my luck, be the wife of another man?" "You'll have no luck, mind my words, Judy," says I; and all I remembered about my poor master's goodness in tossing up for her afore he married at all came across me, and I had a choking in my throat that hindered me to say more. "Better luck, any how, Thady," says she," than to be like some folk, following the fortunes of them that have none left." “Oh! King of Glory!" says I, "hear the pride and ungratitude of her, and he giving his last guineas but a minute ago to her childer, and she with the fine shawl on her he made her a present of but yesterday!" "Oh, troth, Judy, you're wrong now," says my shister, looking

at the shawl.

"And was not he wrong yesterday, then," says she, "to be telling me I was greatly altered, to affront me?" "But, Judy," says I, "what is it brings you here then at all in the mind you are in; is it to make Jason think the better of you? "I'll tell you no more of my secrets, Thady," says she, "nor would have told you this much, had I taken you for such an unnatural fader as I find are, not to wish your own son prefarred to another."

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Oh, troth, you are wrong now, Thady," says my shister. Well, I was never so put to it in my life: between these womens, and my son and my master, and all I felt and thought just now, I could not, upon my conscience, tell which was the wrong from the right. So I said not a word more, but was only glad his honour had not the luck to hear all Judy had been saying of him, for I reckoned it would have gone nigh to break his heart; not that I was of opinion he cared for her as much as she and my shister fancied, but the ungratitude of the whole from Judy might not plase him; and he could never stand the notion of not being well spoken of or beloved like behind his back. Fortunately for all parties concerned, he was so much elevated at this time, there was no danger of his understanding any thing, even if it had reached his ears. There was a great horn at the Lodge, ever since my master and captain Moneygawl was in together, that used to belong originally to the celebrated sir Patrick, his ancestor ; and his honour was fond often of telling the story that he learned from me when a child, how sir

Patrick drank the full of this horn without stopping, and this was what no other man afore or since could without drawing breath. Now sir Condy challenged the gauger, who seemed to think little of the horn, to swallow the contents, and had it filled to the brim with punch; and the gauger said it was what he could not do for nothing, but he'd hold sir Condy a hundred guineas he'd do it." Done," says my master; "I'll lay you a hundred golden guineas to a tester* you don't." "Done," says the gauger; and done and done's enough between two gentlemen. The gauger was cast, and my master won the bet, and thought he'd won a hundred guineas, but by the wording it was adjudged to be only a tester that was his due by the exciseman. It was all one to him; he was as well pleased, and I was glad to see him in such spirits again.

again I'll

The gauger, bad luck to him! was the man that next proposed to my master to try himself could he take at a draught the contents of the great horn. "Sir Patrick's horn!" said his honour; "hand it to me: I'll hold you your own bet over swallow it." "Done," says the gauger; any thing at all you do no such thing." "A hundred guineas to sixpence I do," says he: "bring me the handkerchief." I was loth, knowing he meant the handkerchief with the gold in it, to bring it out in

"I'll lay ye

* Tester-sixpence; from the French word tête, a head: a piece of silver stamped with a head, which in old French was called "un testion," and which was about the value of an old English sixpence. Tester is used in Shakspeare.

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such company, and his honour not very able to reckon it. Bring me the handkerchief, then, Thady," says he, and stamps with his foot; so with that I pulls it out of my great coat pocket, where I had put it for safety. Oh, how it grieved me to see the guineas counting upon the table, and they the last my master had! Says sir Condy to me, "Your hand is steadier than mine to-night, old Thady, and that's a wonder; fill you the horn for me." And so, wishing his honour success, I did; but I filled it, little thinking of what would befall him. lows it down, and drops like one shot. up, and he was speechless, and quite face. We put him to bed, and in a short time he wakened, raving with a fever on his brain. He was shocking either to see or hear. "Judy! Judy! have you no touch of feeling? won't you stay to help us nurse him?" says I to her, and she putting on her shawl to go out of the house. "I'm frightened to see him," says she, "and wouldn't nor couldn't stay in it; and what use? he can't last till the morning." With that she ran off. There was none but my shister and myself left near him of all the many friends he had. The fever came and went, and came and went, and lasted five days, and the sixth he was sensible for a few minutes, and said to me, knowing me very well, "I'm in burning pain all withinside of me, Thady." I could not speak, but my shister asked him would he have this thing or t'other to do him good? No," says he, thing will do me good no more," and he gave a

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terrible screech with the torture he was in-then

again a minute's ease-" brought to this by drink,” says he; "where are all the friends?-where's Judy?-Gone, hey? Ay, sir Condy has been a fool all his days," said he; and there was the last word he spoke, and died. He had but a very poor funeral, after all.

If you want to know any more, I'm not very well able to tell you; but my lady Rackrent did not die, as was expected of her, but was only disfigured in the face ever after by the fall and bruises she got; and she and Jason, immediately after my poor mas ter's death, set about going to law about that jointure; the memorandum not being on stamped paper, some say it is worth nothing, others again it may do; others say, Jason won't have the lands at any rate. Many wishes it so: for my part, I'm tired wishing for any thing in this world, after all I've seen in it— but I'll say nothing; it would be a folly to be getting myself ill-will in my old Jason did not marry,

age.

nor think of marrying Judy, as I prophesied, and I am not sorry for it; who is? As for all I have here set down from memory and hearsay of the family, there's nothing but truth in it from beginning to end: that you may depend upon; for where's the use of telling lies about the things which every body knows as well as I do?

The Editor could have readily made the catastrophe of sir Condy's history more dramatic and more pathetic, if he thought it allowable to varnish

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