_Gilb._ Yes, sir, they have a parlour as they may call it, if they think proper, sir. But then again, an honest English farmer would be _afeard on_ his life to stay in it, on account of the ceiling just a coming down a’ top of his head. And if he should go up stairs, sir, why that’s as bad again, and worse; for the half of them there stairs is rotten, and ever so many pulled down and burnt. _Sir W._ Burnt!--the stairs? _Gilb._ Burnt, sir, as sure as I’m standing here!--burnt, sir, for fuel one _scarce year_, as they says, sir. Moreover, when a man does get up the stairs, sir, why he is as bad off again, and worse; for the floor of the place they calls the bedchamber, shakes at every step, as if it was a coming down with one; and the walls has all cracks, from top to toe--and there’s rat-holes, or holes o’ some sort or t’other, all in the floor: so that if a man don’t pick his steps curiously, his leg must go down through the ceiling below. And moreover, there’s holes over head through the roof, sir; so that if it rains, it can’t but pour on the bed. They tell me, they used for to shift the bed from one place to another, to find, as they say, the dry corner; but now the floor is grown so crazy, they dare not stir the bed for their lives. _Sir W._ Worse and worse! _Gilb._ And moreover, they have it now in the worst place in the whole room, sir. Close at the head of the bed, there is a window with every pane broke, and some out entirely, and the women’s petticoats and the men’s hats just stuck in to _stop all for the night_, as they say, sir. [_GILBERT tries to stifle his laughter._ _Sir W._ Laugh out, honest Gilbert. In spite of your gravity and your civility, laugh. There is no harm, but sometimes a great deal of good done by laughing, especially in Ireland. Laughing has mended, or caused to be mended, many things that never would have been mended otherwise. _Gilb._ (_recovering his gravity_) That’s true, I dare to say, sir. _Sir W._ Now, Gilbert, if you were to keep an inn, it would be a very different sort of inn from what you have been describing--would not it? _Gilb._ I hope so, sir. _Sir W._ I remember when we were talking of establishing you in England, that your father told me you would like to set up an inn. _Gilb._ (_his face brightening_) For sartin, sir, ‘tis the thing in the whole world I should like the best, and be the proudest on, if so be it was in my power, and if so be, sir, you could spare me. (_Holding his master’s coat for him to put on._) _Sir W._ _Could._ spare you, Gilbert!--I _will_ spare you, whether I can conveniently or not. If I had an opportunity of establishing advantageously a man who has served me faithfully for ten years, do you think I would not put myself to a little inconvenience to do it?--Gilbert, you do not know Sir William Hamden.