O'Grady rubbed his hands with the impatience of a true lover of the crustaceous delicacy, and Scatterbrain, eager to help him, flourished his oyster-knife; but before he had time to commence operations the olfactory nerves of the company gave evidence that the oysters were rather suspicious; every one began sniffing, and a universal "Oh dear!" ran round the table.

"Don't you smell it, Furlong?" said Scatterbrain, who was so lost in looking at Augusta's mustachios that he did not mind anything else.

"Isn't it horrid?" said O'Grady, with a look of disgust.

Furlong thought he alluded to the mustachio, and replied with an a.s.surance that he "liked it of all things."

"Like it?" said O'Grady; "you've a queer taste. What do _you_ think of it, miss?" added he to Augusta, "it's just under your nose." Furlong thought this rather personal, even from a father.

"I'll try my knife on one," said Scatterbrain, with a flourish of the oyster-knife, which Furlong thought resembled the preliminary trial of a barber's razor.

Furlong thought this worse than O'Grady; but he hesitated to reply to his chief, and an _honourable_ into the bargain.

In the meantime, Scatterbrain opened an oyster, which Furlong, in his embarra.s.sment and annoyance, did not perceive.

"Cut off the beard," said O'Grady, "I don't like it."

This nearly made Furlong speak, but, considering O'Grady's temper and ill-health, he hesitated, till he saw Augusta rubbing her eye, in consequence of a small splinter of the oyster-sh.e.l.l having struck it from Scatterbrain's mismanagement of his knife; but Furlong thought she was crying, and then he could be silent no longer; he went over to where she sat, and with a very affectionate demonstration in his action, said, "Never mind them, dear Gussy--never mind--don't cwy--I love her dear little moustachios, I do." He gave a gentle pat on the back of the neck as he spoke, and it was returned by an uncommonly smart box on the ear from the young lady, and the whole party looked thunderstruck. "Dear Gussy"

cried for spite, and stamped her way out of the room, followed by Furlong.

"Let them go," said O'Grady; "they'll make it up outside."

"These oysters are all bad," said Scatterbrain.

O'Grady began to swear at his disappointment--he had set his heart on oysters. Mrs. O'Grady rang the bell--Andy appeared.

"How dare you bring up such oysters as these?" roared O'Grady.

"The misthris ordhered them, sir."

"I told you never to bring up bad oysters," said she.

"Them's not bad, ma'am," said Andy,

"Have you a nose?" says O'Grady.

"Yes, sir."

"And can't you smell them, then?"

"Faix, I smelt them for the last three days, sir."

"And how could you say they were good, then?" asked his mistress.

"Sure you tould me, ma'am, that if they didn't open their mouths they were good, and I'll be on my book oath them oysters never opened their mouths since I had them, for I laid them on a coolflag in the kitchen and put the jack-weight over them."

Notwithstanding O'Grady's rage, Scatterbrain could not help roaring with laughter at Andy's novel contrivance for keeping oysters fresh. Andy was desired to take the "ancient and fish-like smell" out of the room, amidst jeers and abuse; and, as he fumbled his way to the kitchen in the dark, lamenting the hard fate of servants, who can never give satisfaction, though they do everything they are bid, he went head over heels down-stairs, which event was reported to the whole house as soon as it happened, by the enormous clatter of the broken dish, the oysters, and Andy, as they all rolled one over the other to the bottom.

O'Grady, having missed the cool supper he intended, and had longed for, was put into a rage by the disappointment; and as hunger with O'Grady was only to be appeased by broiled bones, accordingly, against all the endeavours of everybody, the bells rang violently through the house, and the ogre-like cry of "broiled bones!" resounded high and low.

The reader is sufficiently well acquainted with O'Grady by this time to know, that of course, when once he had determined to have his broiled bone, nothing on the face of the earth could prevent it but the want of anything to broil, or the immediate want of his teeth; and as his masticators were in order, and something in the house which could carry mustard and pepper, the invalid primed and loaded himself with as much combustible matter as exploded in a fever the next day.

The supper-party, however, in the hope of getting him to bed, separated soon; and as Scatterbrain and Furlong were to start early in the morning for Dublin, the necessity of their retiring to rest was pleaded. The honourable member had not been long in his room when he heard a tap at his door, and his order to "come in" was followed by the appearance of Handy Andy.

"I found somethin' on the road nigh the town to-day, sir, and I thought it might be yours, maybe," said Andy, producing a small pocket-book.

The honourable member disavowed the ownership.

"Well, there's something else I want to speak to your honour about."

"What is it, Handy?"

"I want your honour to see the account of the money your honour gave me that I spint at the _shebeen_ [Footnote: Low publick house.] upon the 'lecthors that couldn't be accommodated at Mrs. Fay's."

"Oh! never mind it, Andy; if there's anything over, keep it yourself."

"Thank your honour, but I must make the account all the same, if you plaze, for I'm going to Father Blake, to my duty, [Footnote: Confession.]

soon, and I must have my conscience as clear as I can, and I wouldn't like to be keeping money back."

"But if I give you the money, what matter?"

"I'd rather you'd just look over this little bit of a count, if you plaze," said Andy, producing a dirty piece of paper, with some nearly inscrutable hieroglyphics upon it. Scatterbrain commenced an examination of this literary phenomenon from sheer curiosity, asking Andy at the same time if _he_ wrote it.

"Yis, sir," said Andy; "but you see the man couldn't keep the count of the piper's dhrink at all, it was so confusin', and so I was obliged to pay him for that every time the piper dhrunk, and keep it separate, and the 'lecthors that got their dinner afther the bill was made out I put down myself too, and that's it you see, sir, both ating and dhrinkin'."

To Dhrinkin A blind piper everry day wan and in Pens six dais 0 16 6 To atein four Tin Illikthurs And Thare 1 8 8 horses on Chewsdai 0 14 0 --------- Toe til 2 19 4 Lan lord Bil For All Be four 7 17 8-1/2 --------- 10 18 12-1/2

"Then I owe you money, instead of your having a balance in hand, Andy,"

said the member.

"Oh, no matter, your honour; it's not for that I showed you the account."

"It's very like it, though," said Scatterbrain, laughing; "here, Andy, here are a couple of pounds for you, take them, Andy--take it and be off; your bill is worth the money," and Scatterbrain closed the door on the great accountant.

Andy next went to Furlong's room, to know if the pocket-book belonged to him; it did not, but Furlong, though he disclaimed the ownership, had that small curiosity which prompts little minds to pry into what does not belong to them, and taking the pocket-book into his hands, he opened it, and fumbled over its leaves; in the doing of which a small piece of folded paper fell from one of the pockets unnoticed by the impertinent inquisitor or Andy, to whom he returned the book when he had gratified his senseless curiosity. Andy withdrew, Furlong retired to rest; and as it was in the grey of an autumnal morning he dressed himself, the paper still remained un.o.bserved: so that the housemaid, on setting the room to rights, found it, and fancying Miss Augusta was the proper person to confide Mr.

Furlong's stray papers to, she handed that young lady the ma.n.u.script which bore the following copy of verses:--

I CAN NE'ER FORGET THEE

I

It is the chime, the hour draws near When you and I must sever; Alas, it must be many a year, And it _may_ be for ever!

How long till we shall meet again!

How short since first I met thee!

How brief the bliss--how long the pain-- For I can ne'er forget thee.

II