Such was the aspect of things on the quays. The same look pervaded the Exchange, and the same air of little to do, and of deeming it a joke while doing it, abounded in the law courts, where the bench exchanged witty passages with the bar; and the prisoners, the witnesses, and the jury fired smart things at each other with a seeming geniality and enjoyment that were very remarkable. I was so much amused by all I saw, that I would willingly have delayed some days in the capital; but my uncle had charged me to present myself at the vicarage without any unnecessary delay; so I determined to set out at once. I was not, I shame to own, much better up in the geography of Ireland than in that of Central Africa, and had but a very vague idea whither I was going. “Do you know Donegal?” asked I of the waiter, giving to my pronunciation of the word a long second and a short third syllable. “No, your honor, never heard of him,” was the answer. “But it's a place I'm asking for,--a county,” said I, with some impatience. “Faix, maybe it is,” said he; “but it's new to me, all the same.” “He means Donegal,” said a red-whiskered man with a bronzed weather-beaten face, and a stern defiant air, that invited no acquaintanceship. “Oh, Donegal,” chimed in the waiter. “Begorra! it would n't be easy to know it by the name your honor gav' it.” “Are you looking for any particular place in that county?” asked the stranger in a tone sharp and imperious as his former speech. “Yes,” said I, assuming a degree of courtesy that I thought would be the best rebuke to his bluntness; “but I 'll scarcely trust myself with the pronunciation after my late failure. This is the place I want;” and I drew forth my uncle's letter and showed the address. “Oh, that's it, is it?” cried he, reading aloud. “'The Reverend Daniel Dudgeon, Killyrotherum, Donegal.' And are you going there? Oh, I see you are,” said he, turning his eyes to the foot of the address. '“Favored by Paul Gosslett, Esq.' and you are Paul Gosslett.” “Yes, sir, with your kind permission, I am Paul Gosslett,” said I, with what I hoped was a chilling dignity of manner. “If it's only my permission you want, you may be anything you please,” said he, turning his insolent stare full on me. I endeavored not to show any sensitiveness to this impertinence, and went on with my dinner, the stranger's table being quite close to mine. “It's your first appearance in Ireland, I suspect,” said he, scanning me as he picked his teeth, and sat carelessly with one leg crossed over the other. I bowed a silent acquiescence, and he went on. “I declare that I believe a Cockney, though he has n't a word of French, is more at home on the Continent than in Ireland.” He paused for some expression of opinion on my part, but I gave none. I filled my glass, and affected to admire the color of the wine, and sipped it slowly, like one thoroughly engaged in his own enjoyments. “Don't you agree with me?” asked he, fiercely.