"I want a letther, sir, if you plaze." "And who do you want it for?" repeated the postmaster. "What's that to you?" said Andy. The postmaster, laughing at his simplicity, told him he could not tell what letter to give him unless he told him the direction. "The directions I got was to get a letther here--that's the directions." "Who gave you those directions?" "The master." "And who's your master?" "What consarn is that of yours?" "Why, you stupid rascal, if you don't tell me his name, how can I give you a letter?" "You could give it if you liked; but you're fond of axin' impident questions, bekase you think I'm simple." "Go along out o' this! Your master must be as great a goose as yourself, to send such a messenger." "Bad luck to your impidence!" said Andy. "Is it Squire Egan you dare to say goose to?" "Oh, Squire Egan's your master, then?" "Yes. Have you anything to say agin it?" "Only that I never saw you before." "Faith, then, you'll never see me agin if I have my own consint." "I won't give you any letter for the squire unless I know you're his servant. Is there any one in the town knows you?" "Plenty," said Andy. "It's not every one is as ignorant as you." WHY ANDY WOULD NOT PAY ELEVEN PENCE FOR A LETTER Just at this moment a person to whom Andy was known entered the house, who vouched to the postmaster that he might give Andy the squire's letter. "Have you one for me?" "Yes, sir," said the postmaster, producing one. "Fourpence." The gentleman paid the fourpence postage (the story, it must be remembered, belongs to the earlier half of the last century, before the days of the penny post), and left the shop with his letter. "Here's a letter for the squire," said the postmaster. "You've to pay me elevenpence postage." "What 'ud I pay elevenpence for?" "For postage." "Get out wid you! Didn't I see you give Mr. Durfy a letther for fourpence this minit, and a bigger letther than this? And now you want me to pay elevenpence for this scrap of a thing? Do you think I'm a fool?" "No; but I'm sure of it," said the postmaster. "Well, you're welkum, to be sure; but don't be delayin' me now. Here's fourpence for you, and gi' me the letther." "Go along, you stupid thief!" (the word "thief" was often used in Ireland in the humorous way we sometimes use the word "rascal") said the postmaster, taking up the letter, and going to serve a customer with a mouse-trap. WHY ANDY WENT BACK TO THE SQUIRE WITHOUT HIS LETTER While this person and many others were served, Andy lounged up and down the shop, every now and then putting in his head in the middle of the customers and saying: "Will you gi' me the letther?"