“Well, the devil couldn’t bandy compliments with you, Mr K----; so I think, brother Bill, you had better push about the jorum. The priest has too much tongue for me to-night, and there’s no moving his temper. But wait a bit: if I don’t gage him to his heart’s content, the first public place I meet him in, my name’s not Snap Rivers.” The party separated good friends, and the priest paid no attention to the threat. A month had elapsed, and Mr K---- having business in the nearest town, found himself on the market-day perusing a placard, announcing the exhibition of a large beautiful milk-white bullock, said to be a ton weight. In the midst of his reading the priest was surprised to hear himself called by name. “Ho! ho! Mr K----, come hither!” His eye followed in the direction of the sounds, and at about a perch distant he beheld Rivers, dressed as usual in his long blue cloak, gun-mouthed breeches, blue rib-and-fur stockings, his red nightcap and fire-shovel hat--as ludicrous a figure, “take him for all and all,” as ever stood in a market. “Ho! ho! Mr K----, come hither,” and the priest, not unwillingly, obeyed the summons. The meeting occurred just in the market-place. The little square was thronged to excess. The anxiety of business sat upon every countenance, and hundreds, passing hither and thither in the ardent pursuit of their own affairs, might have passed their most intimate friend without recognition; so true it is that the contemplative man is never more in solitude than in the midst of a crowd. But the first salutations over, Rivers entered eagerly into conversation with the priest, on topics of mutual interest; with not unwarrantable familiarity he laid his hand on his shoulder, continued to talk earnestly, insinuated his finger into a button-hole, without, apparent motive caught him by the collar, then grasped it firmly; and that done, to his victim’s consternation he pulled off his fire-shovel hat, left the red nightcap uncovered, and with much vigour brandishing the _chapeau_, began to call an auction. The market-people deemed him mad. The priest felt no desire to be disposed of by public sale, but Snap laboured most earnestly in his new vocation. “Ho, ho! oh yes! oh yes! hear ye! hear ye!”