Kate also observed, with displeasure, that among all those who joined in the outcry against Bryan M'Mahon, none made his conduct, such as it was conceived to have been, a subject of more brutal and bitter triumph than the Hogans. The only circumstance connected with him which grieved them to the heart, was the fact that the distillation plot had not ruined him as they expected it would have done. His disgrace, however, and unjust ejectment from Ahadarra filled them with that low, ruffianly sense of exultation, than which, coming from such scoundrels, there is scarcely anything more detestable in human nature. One evening about this time they were sitting about the fire, the three brothers, Kate, and the young unlicked savages of the family, when Philip, after helping himself to a glass of quints, said,-- “At any rate, there'll be no match between Miss Kathleen and that vagabond, Bryan M'Mahon. I think we helped to put a nail in his coffin there, by gob.” “Ay,” said Kate, “an' you may boast of it, you unmanly vagabone; an' yet you purtind to have a regard for the poor girl, an' a purty way you tuck to show it--to have her as she is, goin' about wid a pale face an' a broken heart. Don't you see it's her more than him you're punishin', you savage of hell?” “You had betther keep your tongue off o' me,” he replied; “I won't get into grips wid you any more, you barge o' blazes; but, if you provoke me wid bad language, I'll give you a clink wid one o' these sotherin'-irons that'll put a clasp on your tongue.” “Never attempt that,” she replied fiercely, “for, as sure as you do, I'll have this knife,” showing him a large, sharp-pointed one, which, in accordance with the customs of her class, hung by a black belt of strong leather from her side--“I'll have this customer here greased in your puddins, my buck, and, when the win's out o' you, see what you'll be worth--fit for Captain James's hounds; although I dunno but the very dogs themselves is too clane to ait you.” “Come,” said Bat, “we'll have no more o' this; do you, Philip, keep quiet wid your sotherin'-iron, and, as for you, Kate, don't dhraw me upon you; _na ha nan shin_--it isn't Philip you have. I say I'm right well plaised that we helped to knock up the match.” “Don't be too sure,” replied Kate, “that it is knocked up; don't now, mind my words; an' take care that, instead of knockin' it up, you haven't knocked yourselves down. Chew your cud upon that now.” “What does she mane?” asked Ned, looking on her with a baleful glance, in which might be read equal ferocity and alarm. “Why, traichery, of coorse,” replied Philip, in his deep, glowing voice. “Kate,” said her husband, starting into something' like an incipient fit of fury, but suddenly checking himself--“Kate, my honey, what do you mane by them words?”