CHAPTER IV.

Milord Always.

WHEN our adventurer judged that the accident of the ball dress (as related in the last chapter) had sufficiently faded from the recollection of his mistress, he took an opportunity of requesting leave of absence, in order to put in force a certain project he had long entertained, and which had for its object the providing for his brother Patrick. He remembered the injunctions of his father on this head; and though Barney might justly be styled a lad of "easy principles," yet he certainly had at heart the fancied "honour of the family." He had heard that a place in the Excise was in the gift of Lord Cork. Of course to be had for the asking. Those who are acquainted with the awe in which an Irish peasant holds an exciseman, will understand the extent of Barney's ambition, when he determined to apply for the place in question. Requesting an audience of Mrs. Stapleton, he began

"If you plase, ma'am, I'd be glad I could be spared an hour or two dis mornin', if you plase?"

"What do you want to do, Barney?"

""Tis to go see Lord Cork, ma'am, I'm wantin'."

"To see Lord Cork, Barney? What can you possibly have to do with Lord Cork? Do you know his lordship?"

"I do nat, ma'am; but he's a townsman o' mine, an' its in regard of a small fever I tought to ask, for a strip of a b'y, a brother o' me own, an' its in his power to do it; so, in coorse, its askin' nothin' out o' de way, at all at all."

"Rather a hasty conclusion that, Barney. However, go, if you consider your claims on his lordship's time give you a chance of being admitted," said Mrs. Stapleton.

"Oh! no fear in life. Wonst I get to de spache of him; an' why wouldn't I, bein' his townsman an' all?"

Away went Barney Mahoney, nothing daunted, on a mission that, to an English lad of his standing, would have appeared an undertaking replete with difficulties. And back he returned, with a smiling countenance.

"Well, Barney!" said his mistress, "how have you succeeded? Did you find the house?"

"Oh, I did, ma'am; an iligant house it is, shoorely, all out; an' I raps at de doore, single, as you bid me when I'm be meself; an' a great big man, wid a red face an' a green baizy apron on him, opens it, wid a broom in his hand, for 'twas sweepin' out de hall he was; an' thinks I to meself, yees makes an iligant housemaid, any way; but they've sthrange ways here in England, thinks I. So I ses nothin', bud scraped me shoes at de iron strap like, be de doore, an', 'Is Lord Cork widin?' ses I.

66 6

'Widdin,' ses he, (mimickin', de way de English does, bud its natʼral to 'em I s'pose.) 'You don't suppose, Misther Free an' asy,' ses he, that a nobleman 'ud be widout, at this time o' de mornin',' he ses.

""Tis all right, thin,' ses I, 'for I wants to see his lordship.'

"You do?' ses he, an' he puts down his broom, an' goes an' sits himself down in a leather closet like, fixed in de middle of de hall, an' • Pray, me fine fella,' ses he, 'how long may you have bin cot? I mane, how long have you been in Hingland?'

"Not long enough to wear out me manners,'

ses 1; 'so, if its any way consarnin' you to know, its five months since I left de bewtiful city of Cork.""

"And what may have brought you to London?' ses he.

"Me bis'ness,' ses I.

"Then yer bis'ness may take you back there,' ses he, mockin' again; 'for its nayther yer Hirish brogue,' he ses, 'nor yer impudence, 'll carry you through to to me lord.' His lord! de vagabone, sweepin' blagguard! takin' de bread out o' some poor girl of a housemaid's mout', that's wantin' it may be. So just thin there comes trow de hall, a woman I knoed very well in Cork, by rason her mother's cousin's sisther was a kind of relation to me uncle at Cove's first wife, an' its cook in de family she is; an' 'Barney Mahoney!' ses she, is that you at all at all?'

"Shoore, 'tis meself, an' none else,' ses I; 'why wouldn't it? an' I've bis'ness wid Lord Cork, an' this housemaid in breeches,' I ses, 'won't let me to de spache of him, so he won't.'

"Come wid me,' she ses. 'I don't wish to bring nobody into trouble, Mr. Porter,' she ses to him in de green apron, so I'll take me counthreeman down de airy steps, for I'd soonder

get meself disgrace, nor see a townsman turned from de doore.'

"Take him where you like,' grumbled de porter, but through my premises he don't pass; a himpident, Hirish jackanapes! I can't think why me lord don't have Hinglish servants about him, not I.'

"Well! down some steps we went, an' trou' long dark passages, an' at last we stopped at a doore, an' Mrs. Garatty (that's me mother's cousin's sisther's relation) she tapped at de doore, an' Come in,' ses a voice; an' we went into a nice parlour, all carpetted over, an' a lady ('seemin❜ly') sittin' at a table full of crocks of jams an' jellies, an' she a paperin' 'em up; an' 'Mrs. Uniacke,' ses Mrs. Garatty, 'here's a counthreeman o' yours an' mine, wantin' to see me lord; if you'd help him to a retinue,' or some word like that, she sed, we'd both feel obleeged.' So wi' that I up an' tould 'em what it was I was seekin'; an' afther waitin' sum time, Mrs. Uniacke consitherin', she tould me, if I'd behave genteel, an' say 'My Lord Always,' she'd take me up her ownself to his lordship.

"Its a quare name, (ses I to meself,) but prap's 'tis his Christian name it is. So when