_Gilb._ Thank you, sir, but I do--and I should be main sorry to leave you, that’s sartin, if it was even to be landlord of the best inn in all England--I know I should. _Sir W._ I believe it.--But, stay--let us understand one another--I am not talking of England, and perhaps you are not thinking of Ireland. _Gilb._ Yes, sir, but I am. _Sir W._ You are! I am heartily glad to hear it, for then I can serve you directly. This young heiress, my niece, to whom this town belongs, has a new inn ready built. _Gilb._ I know, sir. _Sir W._ Then, Gilbert, write a proposal for this inn, if you wish for it, and I will speak to my niece. _Gilb._ (_bowing_) I thank you, sir--only I hope I shall not stand in any honest man’s light. As to a dishonest man, I can’t say I value standing in his light, being that he has no right to have any, as I can see. _Sir W._ So, Gilbert, you will settle in Ireland at last? I am heartily glad to see you have overcome your prejudices against this country. How has this been brought about? _Gilb._ Why, sir, the thing was, I didn’t know nothing about it, and there was a many lies told backwards and forwards of Ireland, by a many that ought to have known better. _Sir W._ And now that you have seen with your own eyes, you are happily convinced that in Ireland the men are not all savages. _Gilb._ No, sir, no ways savage, except in the article of some of them going bare-footed; but the men is good men, most of them. _Sir W._ And the women? You find that they have not wings on their shoulders. _Gilb._ No, sir. (_Smiling_) And I’m glad they have not got wings, else they might fly away from us, which I’d be sorry for--some of them. [_After making this speech, GILBERT steps back, and brushes his master’s hat diligently._ _Sir W._ (_aside_) Ha! is that the case? Now I understand it all. ‘Tis fair, that Cupid, who blinds so many, should open the eyes of some of his votaries. (_Aloud._) When you set up as landlord in your new inn, Gilbert, (_Gilbert comes forward_) you will want a landlady, shall not you? _Gilb._ (_falls back, and answers_) I shall, sir, I suppose. _Sir W._ Miss--what’s her name? the daughter of the landlord of the present inn. Miss--what’s her name? _Gilb._ (_answers without coming forward_) Miss Gallagher, sir. _Sir W._ Miss Gallagher?--A very ugly name!--I think it would be charity to change it, Gilbert. _Gilb._ (_bashfully_) It would, no doubt, sir. _Sir W._ She is a very pretty girl. _Gilb._ She is, sir, no doubt. [_Cleaning the brush with his hand, bows, and is retiring._ _Sir W._ Gilbert, stay, (_GILBERT returns._) I say, Gilbert, I took particular notice of this Miss Gallagher, as she was speaking to you last Sunday. I thought she seemed to smile upon you, Gilbert. _Gilb._ (_very bashfully_) I can’t say, indeed, sir.