“Well, sir, I know that; but, Misther Doorish, you ought to know bow to meek both a bow and a curchy. Whin you marry a wife, Misther Doorish, it mightn’t come wrong for you to know how to taich her a curchy. Have you the _gad_ and _suggaun_ wid you?” “Yes, sir.” “Very well, on wid them; the suggaun on the right foot, or what ought to be the right foot, an’ the gad upon what ought to be the left. Are you ready?” “Yes, sir.” “Come, thin, do as I bid you--Rise upon suggaun an’ sink upon gad; rise upon suggaun an’ sink upon gad; rise upon---- Hould, sir; you’re sinkin’ upon suggaun an’ risin’ upon gad, the very thing you ought _not_ to do. But, God help you! sure you’re left-legged! Ah, Misther Doorish, it ’ud be long time before you’d be able to dance Jig Polthogue or the College Hornpipe upon a drum-head, as I often did. However, don’t despeer, Misther Doorish--if I could only get you to know your right leg--but, God help you! sure you hav’nt sich a thing--from your left, I’d make something of you yet, Dick.” The Irish dancing-masters were eternally at daggers-drawn among themselves; but as they seldom met, they were forced to abuse each other at a distance, which they did with a virulence and scurrility proportioned to the space between them. Buckram-Back had a rival of this description, who was a sore thorn in his side. His name was Paddy Fitzpatrick, and from having been a horse-jockey, he gave up the turf, and took to the calling of a dancing-master. Buckram-Back sent a message to him to the effect that “if he could not dance Jig Polthogue on the drum-head, he had better hould his tongue for ever.” To this Paddy replied, by asking if he was the man to dance the Connaught Jockey upon the saddle of a blood-horse, and the animal at a three-quarter gallop. At length the friends on each side, from a natural love of fun, prevailed upon them to decide their claims as follows:--Each master, with twelve of his pupils, was to dance against his rival with twelve of his; the match to come off on the top of Mallybeny Hill, which commanded a view of the whole parish. I have already mentioned that in Buckram-Back’s school there stood near the middle of the floor a post, which according to some new manœuvre of his own was very convenient as a guide to the dancers when going through the figure. Now, at the spot where this post stood it was necessary to make a curve, in order to form part of the figure of eight, which they were to follow; but as many of them were rather impenetrable to a due conception of the line of beauty, he forced them to turn round the post rather than make an acute angle of it, which several of them did. Having premised thus much, we proceed with our narrative.