“Nothing, sir, at all. I passed the down mail at Seery's Mill, and when the coachman heard the step of the horses, he laid on the wheelers wid all his might, and sat down on the footboard, and the two outside passengers lay flat as a pancake on the top when I passed. I could n't help giving a screech out of me for fun, and the old guard let fly, and sent a ball through my 'caubeen;'” and as he said these words he exhibited his ragged felt hat, which, in addition to its other injuries, now displayed a round bullet-hole through either side. “Serve you right,” said Freney, harshly; “I wish he'd levelled three inches lower. That young rascal, sir, keeps the whole road in a state of alarm that stops all business on it.” Then he added, in a whisper, “but he never failed me in his life. I 've only to say when and where I want the horses, and I 'd lay my neck on it he's there.” Daly, who had been for some minutes examining the two horses by the lantern with all the skill of an adept, now turned the light full upon the figure of the boy whose encomium was thus pronounced. The urchin, as if conscious that he was passing an inspection, set his tattered hat jauntily on one side, and with one arm a-kimbo, and a leg advanced, stood the very perfection of ragged, self-sufficient rascality. Though at most not above fourteen years of age, and short in size even for that, his features had the shrewd intelligence of manhood; a round, wide head, covered with dark red hair, projected over two eyes set wide apart, whose bad expression was ingeniously improved by a habit of squinting at pleasure,--a practice with which he now amused himself, as Mr. Daly continued to stare at him. His nose, which a wound had partly separated from the forehead, was short and wide, leaving an unnatural length to the lower part of the face, where an enormous mouth, garnished with large and regular teeth, was seen,--a feature that actually gave a look of ferocity even to a face so young. “It's plain to see what destiny awaits that young scoundrel,” said Daly, as he gazed almost sadly at the assemblage of bad passions so palpably displayed in his countenance. “I 'd wager the young devil knows it himself, and can see the gallows even now before him.” A wild burst of frantic laughter broke from the urchin as, in the exuberance of his merriment, he capered round Daly with gambols the most strange and uncouth, and then, mimicking an air of self-admiration, he strutted past, while he broke into one of the slang ditties of the day:-- “With beauty and manners to plaze, I 'll seek a rich wife, and I 'll find her, And live like a Lord all my days, And sing, Tally-high-ho the Grinder!” Freney actually screamed with laughter as he watched the mingled astonishment and horror depicted in Daly's face.