At length they met, and it would have been a matter of much difficulty to determine their relative merits, each was such an admirable match for the other. When Buckram-Back’s pupils, however, came to perform, they found that the absence of the post was their ruin. To the post they had been trained--accustomed;--with _it_ they could dance; but wanting that, they were like so many ships at sea without rudders or compasses. Of course a scene of ludicrous confusion ensued, which turned the laugh against poor Buckram-Back, who stood likely to explode with shame and venom. In fact he was in an agony. “Gintlemen, turn the post!” he shouted, stamping upon the ground, and clenching his little hands with fury; “leedies, remimber the post! Oh, for the honour of Kilnahushogue don’t be bate. The post! gintlemen; leedies, the post if you love me! Murdher alive, the post!” “Be gorra, masther, the jockey will distance us,” replied Bob Magawly; “it’s likely to be the _winnin’-post_ to him anyhow.” “Any money,” shouted the little fellow, “any money for long Sam Sallaghan; he’d do the post to the life. Mind it, boys dear, mind it or we’re lost. Divil a bit they heed me; it’s a flock o’ bees or sheep they’re like. Sam Sallaghan, where are you? The post, you blackguards!” “Oh, masther dear, if we had even a fishin’-rod, or a crow-bar, or a poker, we might do yet. But, anyhow, we had better give in, for it’s only worse we’re gettin’.” At this stage of the proceedings Paddy came over to him, and making a low bow, asked him, “Arra, how do you feel, Misther Dogherty?” for such was Buckram-Back’s name. “Sir,” replied Buckram-Back, bowing low, however, in return, “I’ll take the shine out o’ you yet. Can you shiloote a leedy wid me?--that’s the chat! Come, gintlemen, show them what’s betther than fifty posts--shiloote your partners like Irishmen. Kilnahushogue for ever!” The scene that ensued baffles all description. The fact is, the little fellow had them trained as it were to kiss in platoons, and the spectators were literally convulsed with laughter at this most novel and ludicrous character which Buckram-Back gave to his defeat, and the ceremony which he introduced. The truth is, he turned the laugh completely against his rival, and swaggered off the ground in high spirits, exclaiming, “He know how to shiloote a leedy! Why, the poor spalpeen never kissed any woman but his mother, an’ her only when she was dyin’. Hurra for Kilnahushogue!” Such, reader, is a slight and very imperfect sketch of an Irish dancing-master, which if it possesses any merit at all, is to be ascribed to the circumstance that it is drawn from life, and combines, however faintly, most of the points essential to our conception of the character.