“Sit ye, merry jinteels!” said Finigan, as he entered; “I hope I see you all in good health and spirits; I hope I do; although I am afraid if what fame--an' by the way, Mrs. Cavanagh, my classicality tells me, that the poet Maro blundered like a Hibernian, when he made the same fame a trumpeter, in which, wid the exception of one point, he was completely out of keeping. There's not in all litherature another instance of a female trumpeter; and for sound raisons--if the fair sex were to get possession of the tuba, God help the world, for it would soon be a noisy one. However, let me recollect myself--where was I? Oh! ay--I am afraid that if what fame says--an' by the way, her trumpet must have been a speaking one--be true, that there's a fair individual here whose spirits are not of the most exalted character; and indeed, and as I am the noblest work of God--an honest man--I feel sorry to hear the fact.” The first portion of this address, we need scarcely say, was the only part of it which was properly understood, if we except a word or two at the close. “God save you, Misther Finigan.” “O'Finigan, if you plase, Mrs. Cavanagh.” “Well, well,” she replied, “O'Finigan, since it must be so; but in troth I can!t always remember it, Misther Finigan, in regard that you didn't always stand out for it yourself. Is there any news stirrin', you that's abroad?” “Not exactly news, ma'am; but current reports that are now no novelty. The M'Mahon's--” “Oh, never mind them,” exclaimed Mrs. Cavanagh, glancing at her daughter, “if you have any 'other news let us hear it--pass over the M'Mahons--they're not worth our talk, at least some o' them.” “Pardon me, Mrs. Cavanagh;--if Achilles at the head of his myrmidons was to inform me to that effect, I'd tell him he had mistaken his customer. My principle, ma'am--and 'tis one I glory in--is to defend the absent in gineral, for it is both charitable and ginerous to do so--in gineral, I say; but when I know that they are unjustly aspersed, I contemplate it as' an act of duty on my part to vindicate them.” “Well,” replied Mrs. Cavanagh, “that's all very right an' thrue, Mr. Finigan.” “It is, Mr. Finig--O'Finigan,” observed James Cavanagh, who was present, “and your words are a credit and an honor to you.” “Thanks, James, for the compliment; for it is but truth. The scandal I say (he proceeded without once regarding the hint: thrown out by Mrs. Cavanagh) which has! been so studiously disseminated against Bryan M'Mahon--spare your nods and winks, Mrs. Cavanagh, for if you winked at me with as many eyes as Argus had, and nodded at me wid as many heads as Hydra, or that baste in the Revelaytions, I'd not suppress a syllable of truth;--no, ma'am, the _suppressio veri's_ no habit of mine; and I say and assert--ay, and asseverate--that that honest and high-spirited young man, named Bryan or Bernard M'Mahon, is the victim of villany and falsehood--ay, of devilish hatred and ingenious but cowardly vituperation.”