"Down we sate; my friend had an excellent appetite, and finished a duck to his own share. We drank a bottle of sherry in double-quick, got the cards again, and called for tumblers and hot water. "Judy brought in the materials, and Mr. Magan began to quiz her. "'Arrah! Miss Mac Keal,' says he, 'will ye come and keep house for me, and I'll double your wages?' "'And where do ye live?' replied she. "'Down in the North,' returned Magan; 'and I have as nate a place, ay, and as warm a house, as ever you laid a foot in!' "'Have done with your joking,' says Judy, 'and go home to your own dacent wife.' "'I have her yet to look for,' replied he. "'Devil have the liars,' says Judy. "'Ah then, amen!' said Magan. "'I wouldn't believe ye,' continued she, 'if you kissed the vestment on it.' "'_Liggum lathé_,'[65] says he. "'Why, what good Irish you have for a Northman!' replied Judy. "'My mother was a Munster woman,' says Mr. Magan. "'Is she alive?' inquired she. "'Dead as Cleopatra,' he said, with a laugh; and Judy afterwards remarked, 'she knew he was a rascal, or he would have added, 'God rest her soul!' "When the housekeeper disappeared, the stranger filled a bumper. 'Egad!' thought I, 'I'll try him now, whether he be radical or true-blue; and, lifting up the tumbler, I proposed, 'The glorious, pious, and immortal memory--' "'Of the great and good King William,' says he, taking the word out of my mouth. "'Who freed us from Pope and popery, knavery, slavery--' "'Brass money, and wooden shs,' returned the Northman. "'May he who would not, on bare and bended knee, drink this toast, be rammed, crammed--' "'And damned!' roared Magan, as if the sentiment came from his very heart. 'Here's the Pope in the pillory, and the Devil pelting priests at him!' cried the Northman; and, with a laugh, off went the bumpers, and we commenced the cards anew. "Well, sir, that night I had the luck of thousands. The black bank-notes came over the table-cloth by the dozen; and, as the Northman lost his money, his temper went along with it. He cursed the cards, and their maker; swore he would book himself[66] against bones and paper for a twelvemonth; made tumbler after tumbler; and, as he drank them boiling from the kettle, I wondered how he could swallow poteen-punch hot enough to scald a pig. "'Come,' says he, in a rage, 'I see how the thing will end; and the sooner I am cleaned out, the better. Instead of a beggarly flimsey, fork out a five-pound note.' "'With all my heart,' replied I. "'Curse of Cromwell attend upon all shmakers!' ejaculated Mr. Magan, with a grin. "'Arrah! what's vexing ye now?' says I, pulling the third five-pounder across the cloth. "'Every thing!' returned he, 'I have the worst of luck, a tight boot, and a bad corn.' "'I'll get ye slippers in a shake.' "'Mind your cards,' says he, rather cross; 'there's nobody here but ourselves, and I'll pull off my boot quietly under the table!'