He had only to egg him on to further drinking, and the respectable gentleman would become stupid, noisy, soft, and affectionate. But then, when in that state, he would blab terribly. It was much with the view of keeping him from that state, that under the present circumstances the son remained with the father. To do the father justice, it may be asserted that he knew his own weakness, and that, knowing it, he had abstained from heavy drinking since he had taken in hand this great piece of diplomacy. "But you must be hungry, governor; won't you take a bit of something?" "Shall we get you a steek, Mr. Mollett?" asked Miss O'Dwyer, hospitably, "or just a bit of bacon with a couple of eggs or so? It wouldn't be a minute, you know?" "Your eggs are all addled and bad," said Mr. Mollett; "and as for a beef-steak, it's my belief there isn't such a thing in all Ireland." After which civil speech, Miss O'Dwyer winked at Aby, as much as to say, "You see what a state he's in." "Have a bit of buttered toast and a cup of tea, governor," suggested the son. "I'm d---- if I do," replied the father. "You're become uncommon fond of tea of late--that is, for other people. I don't see you take much of it yourself." "A cup of tay is the thing to warm one afther such a journey as you've had; that's certain, Mr. Mollett," said Fanny. "Them's your ideas about warming, are they, my dear?" said the elderly gentleman. "Do you come and sit down on my knee here for a few minutes or so, and that'd warm me better than all the 'tay' in the world." Aby showed by his face that he was immeasurably disgusted by the iniquitous coarseness of this overture. Miss O'Dwyer, however, looking at the gentleman's age, and his state as regarded liquor, passed it over as of no moment whatsoever. So that when, in the later part of the evening, Aby expressed to that young lady his deep disgust, she merely said, "Oh, bother; what matters an old man like that?" And then, when they were at this pass, Mr. O'Dwyer came in. He did not interfere much with his daughter in the bar room, but he would occasionally take a dandy of punch there, and ask how things were going on in doors. He was a fat, thickset man, with a good-humoured face, a flattened nose, and a great aptitude for stable occupations. He was part owner of the Kanturk car, as has been before said, and was the proprietor of sundry other cars, open cars and covered cars, plying for hire in the streets of Cork. "I hope the mare took your honour well down to Kanturk and back again," said he, addressing his elder customer with a chuck of his head intended for a bow. "I don't know what you call well," said Mr. Mollett. "She hadn't a leg to stand upon for the last three hours." "Not a leg to stand upon! Faix, then, and it's she'd have the four good legs if she travelled every inch of the way from Donagh-a-Dee to Ti-vora," to which distance Mr. O'Dwyer specially referred as being supposed to be the longest known in Ireland.