“And if he does,” replied his mother, “it's not the first time he has been guilty of both; but of late, all the little shame he had, he has lost it.” “Faith, and if I hadn't got a large stock, I'd a been run out of it this many a day, in regard of what I had to lose in that way for you, Hycy. However I'll thank you to listen to me. Have you any intention of marryin' a wife?” “Unquestionably, Mr. Burke. Not a doubt of it.” “Well, I am glad to hear it. The sooner you're married, the sooner you'll settle down. You'll know, then, my lad, what life is.” Honest Jemmy's sarcasm was likely to carry him too far from his purpose, which was certainly not to give a malicious account of matrimony, but, on the contrary, to recommend it to his worthy son. “Well, Mr. Burke,” said Hycy, winking at his mother, “proceed.” “The truth is, Hycy,” he added, “I have a wife in my eye for you.” “I thought as much,” replied the other. “I did imagine it was there you had her; name--Mr. Burke--name?” “Troth, I'm ashamed, Hycy, to name her and yourself on the same day.” “Well, can't you name her to-day, and postpone me until to-morrow?” “It would be almost a pity to have her thrown away upon you. A good and virtuous wife, however, may do a great deal to reclaim a bad husband, and, indeed, you wouldn't be the first profligate that was reformed in the same way.” “Many thanks, Mr. Burke; you are quite geological this morning; isn't he, ma'am?” “When was he ever anything else? God pardon him! However, I know what he's exterminatin' for; he wants you to marry Kathleen Cavanagh.” “Ay do I, Rosha; and she might make him a respectable man yet,--that is, if any woman could.” “Geological again, mother; well, really now, Katsey Cavanagh is a splendid girl, a fine animal, no doubt of it; all her points are good, but, at the same time, Mr. Burke, a trifle too plebeian for Hycy the accomplished.” “I tell you she's a devilish sight too good for you; and if you don't marry her, you'll never get such a wife.” “Troth,” answered Mrs. Burke, “I think myself there's something over you, or you wouldn't spake as you do--a wife for Hycy--one of Gerald Cavanagh's daughters make a wife for him!--not while I'm alive at any rate, plaise God.” “While you're alive; well, may be not:--but sure if it plases God to bring it about, on your own plan, I must endaivor to be contented, Rosha; ay, an' how do you know but I'd dance at their weddin' too! ha! ha! ha!” “Oh, then, it's you that's the bitther pill, Jemmy Burke! but, thank God, I disregard you at all events. It's little respect you pay to my feelings, or ever did.”