_Mr. Carv._ For what reason, I don’t pretend to say; but the fact ostensibly is, that the few persons I direct with my advice are unquestionably apt to prosper in this world. _O’Bla._ Mighty apt! for which rason I would wish to trouble you for your unprecedently good advice on another pint, if it, would not be too great a liberty. _Mr. Carv._ No liberty at all, my good Gerald--I am always ready to advise--only to-day--certainly, the fair day of Ballynavogue, there are so many calls upon me, both in a public and private capacity, so much business of vital importance! _O’Bla._ (_aside_) Vital importance!--that is his word on all occasions. (_Aloud_) May be then, (oh! where was my head?) may be you would not have breakfasted all this time? and we’ve the kittle down always in this house, (_rising_) Pat!--Jack!--Mick!--Jenny! put the kittle down. _Mr. Carv._ Sit down, sit still, my worthy fellow. Breakfasted at Bob’s Fort, as I always do. _O’Bla._ But a bit of cake--a glass of wine, to refrish and replinish nature. _Mr. Carv._ Too early--spoil my dinner. But what was I going to say? _O’Bla._ (_aside_) Burn me, if I know; and I pray all the saints you may never recollect. _Mr. Carv._ I recollect. How many times do you think I was stopped on horseback coming up the street of Ballynavogue?--Five times by weights and measures imperiously calling for reformation, sir. Thirteen times, upon my veracity, by booths, apple-stalls, nuisances, vagabonds, and drunken women. Pigs without end, sir--wanting ringing, and all squealing in my ears, while I was settling sixteen disputes about tolls and customs. Add to this, my regular battle every fair-day with the crane, which ought to be any where but where it is; and my perputual discoveries of fraudulent kegs, and stones in the butter! Now, sir, I only ask, can you wonder that I wipe my forehead? (_wiping his forehead_). _O’Bla._ In troth, Mr. Carver, I cannot! But these are the pains and penalties of being such a man of consequence as you evidently are;--and I that am now going to add to your troubles too by consulting you about my little pint! _Mr. Carv._ A point of law, I dare to say; for people somehow or other have got such a prodigious opinion of my law. (_Takes snuff._) _O’Bla._ (_aside_) No coming to the pint till he has finished his own panygeric. _Mr. Carv._ And I own I cannot absolutely turn my back on people. Yet as to _poor_ people, I always settle them by telling them, it is my principle that law is too expensive for the poor: I tell them, the poor have nothing to do with the laws. _O’Bla._ Except the penal. _Mr. Carv._ True, the civil is for us, men of property; and no man should think of going to law, without he’s qualified. There should be licenses. _O’Bla._ No doubt. Pinalties there are in plinty; still those who can afford should indulge. In Ireland it would as ill become a gentleman to be any way shy of a law-shute, as of a duel.