“And does the land in the neighbourhood belong to this Lord Clonbrony?” “It does, sir; he’s a great proprietor, but knows nothing of his property, nor of us. Never set foot among us, to my knowledge, since I was as high as the table. He might as well be a West India planter, and we negroes, for any thing he knows to the contrary--has no more care, nor thought about us, than if he were in Jamaica, or the other world. Shame for him! But there’s too many to keep him in countenance.” Lord Colambre asked him what wine he could have; and then inquired who managed the estate for this absentee. “Mr. Burke, sir. And I don’t know why God was so kind to give so good an agent to an absentee like Lord Clonbrony, except it was for the sake of us, who is under him, and knows the blessing, and is thankful for the same.” “Very good cutlets,” said Lord Colambre. “I am happy to hear it, sir. They have a right to be good, for Mrs. Burke sent her own cook to teach my wife to dress cutlets.” “So the agent is a good agent, is he?” “He is, thanks be to Heaven! And that’s what few can boast, especially when the landlord’s living over the seas: we have the luck to have got a good agent over us, in Mr. Burke, who is a right bred gentleman; a snug little property of his own, honestly made; with the good-will, and good wishes, and respect of all.” “Does he live in the neighbourhood?” “Just _convanient_.[5] At the end of the town; in the house on the hill as you passed, sir; to the left, with the trees about it, all of his own planting, grown too; for there’s a blessing on all he does, and he has done a deal.--There’s salad, sir, if you are _partial_ to it. Very fine lettuce. Mrs. Burke sent us the plants herself.” “Excellent salad! So this Mr. Burke has done a great deal, has he? In what way?” “In every way, sir,--sure was not it he that had improved, and fostered, and _made_ the town of Colambre?--no thanks to the proprietor, nor to the young man whose name it bears, neither!” “Have you any porter, pray, sir?” “We have, sir, as good, I hope, as you’d drink in London, for it’s the same you get there, I understand, from Cork. And I have some of my own brewing, which, they say, you could not tell the difference between it and Cork quality--if you’d be pleased to try.--Harry, the corkscrew.” The porter of his own brewing was pronounced to be extremely good; and the landlord observed it was Mr. Burke encouraged him to learn to brew, and lent him his own brewer for a time to teach him. “Your Mr. Burke, I find, is _apropos_ to porter, _apropos_ to salad, _apropos_ to cutlets, _apropos_ to every thing,” said Lord Colambre, smiling: “he seems to be a very uncommon agent I suppose you are a great favourite of his, and you do what you please with him.” “Oh, no, sir, I could not say that; Mr. Burke does not have favourites any way; but, according to my deserts, I trust I stand well enough with him; for, in truth, he is a right good agent.”