Produced by Syamanta Saikia, Jon Ingram, Barbara Tozier and the PG Online Distributed Proofreading Team PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. VOL. 1. FOR THE WEEK ENDING AUGUST 7, 1841. * * * * * THE WIFE-CATCHERS. A LEGEND OF MY UNCLE'S BOOTS. _In Four Chapters._ "His name 'tis proper you should hear, 'Twas Timothy Thady Mulligin: And whenever he finish'd his tumbler of punch, He always wished it full agin." CHAPTER II. [Illustration: Y]"You can have no idea, Jack, how deeply the loss of those venerated family retainers affected me." My uncle paused. I perceived that his eyes were full, and his tumbler empty; I therefore thought it advisable to divert his sorrow, by reminding him of our national proverb, "_Iss farr doch na skeal_[1]." [1] A drink is better than a story. The old man's eyes glistened with pleasure, as he grasped my hand, saying, "I see, Jack, you are worthy of your name. I was afraid that school-learning and college would have spoiled your taste for honest drinking; but the right drop is in you still, my boy. I mentioned," continued he, resuming the thread of his story, "that my grandfather died, leaving to his heirs the topped boots, spurs, buckskin-breeches, and red waistcoat; but it is about the first-mentioned articles I mean especially to speak, as it was mainly through their respectable appearance that so many excellent matches and successful negotiations have been concluded by our family. If one of our cousins was about to wait on his landlord or his sweetheart, if he meditated taking a farm or a wife, 'the tops' were instantly brushed up, and put into requisition. Indeed, so fortunate had they been in all the matrimonial embassies to which they had been attached, that they acquired the name of 'the wife-catchers,' amongst the young fellows of our family. Something of the favour they enjoyed in the eyes of the fair sex should, perhaps, be attributed to the fact, that all the Duffys were fine strapping fellows, with legs that seemed made for setting off topped boots to the best advantage.