The gentlemen, much alarmed, went out to inquire "what was the matter?" and beheld two men, sawing across the wood-work of the upper part of the gateway belonging to the inn yard, which was too low to admit Mrs. O'Sullivan's carriages. As usual, when any thing is done out of doors in Ireland, every person within _ken_ had repaired to the scene of action. Two out of three were giving contradictory directions, whilst the operators were swearing tremendously at the crowd, bidding them "go along about their business." "Hard for us to do that same!" answered one, in the name of the rest, "when sarra hand's turn of business we're got to our kin or kin kind, till shearing time comes, barring sitting in the chimney corner doing nothing." Messieurs Webberly and Donolan took this inauspicious moment to rate at the men who were sawing the gateway, expressing, in no very gentle terms, their dissatisfaction with the inn, and all its appurtenances. The men suspended their operations; and one of them, crossing his arms, his head on one side, and his chin stuck out with a gesture of contempt, said, in a drawling tone, as he looked down on them, from the top of the gateway, "Och! then, and it's grander quality than ever ye were have been here, and never gave me no bother at all at all! Upon my sowl, myself is cruel misgiving ye are but half sirs, both of ye'z. It's long before you'd see the Curnel, that's the real sort, (long life to his honour,) take on him so! If ye don't like the place, in the name of the Lord, make aff wid ye'z: if ye can't be agreeable, by the powers, we'd rather have your room nor your company."--"But where would ye see the likes of the Curnel any how?" rejoined a female orator of the assembly. "Sarra man, within twenty miles of himself, that's the fellow of his brother, for standing a poor man's friend on a pinch! It's the family that have been good to me and mine, these hundred year before I was born, and will be after I'm dead, if I've any luck." The greater part of these harangues was unintelligible to Mr. Webberly, but the _dilettante_ understanding the dialect of the country, though he often pretended he did not, as in the present instance, took his companion's arm, and, without proffering another syllable, walked into the house.