Just now the farmer's family began to assemble round the spacious hearth; the young lads, whose instruction the worthy teacher claimed as his own peculiar task, came timidly forward, together with two or three pretty bashful girls with sweet flashing eyes, and countenances full of feeling and intelligence. Behind on the settles, half-a-dozen servants of both sexes sat in pairs--each boy placing himself beside his favorite girl. These appeared to be as strongly interested in the learned conversation which the master held, as if they were masters and mistresses of Munster Latin and Doric Greek themselves; but an occasional thump cautiously bestowed by no slender female hand upon the sturdy shoulder of her companion, or a dry cough from one of the young men, fabricated to drown the coming blow, gave slight indications that they contrived to have a little amusement among themselves, altogether independent of Mr. Corcoran's erudition. When the latter came in, Jemmy was taking the tumbler of punch which the farmer's wife had mixed for him; on this he fixed an expressive glance, which instantly reverted to the _vanithee_, and from her to the large bottle which stood in a window to the right of the fire. It is a quick eye, however, that can anticipate Irish hospitality. “Alley,” said the farmer, ere the wife had time to comply with the hint conveyed by the black, twinkling eye of the schoolmaster; “why, Alley”-- “Sure, I am,” she replied, “an' will have it for you in less than no time.” She accordingly addressed herself to the bottle, and in a few minutes handed a reeking jug of punch to the _Farithee_, or good man. “Come, Masther, by the hand o' my body, I don't like dhry talk so long as I can get anything to moisten the discoorse. Here's your health, Masther,” continued the farmer, winking at the rest, “and a speedy conclusion to what you know! In throth, she's the pick of a good girl--not to mintion what she has for her portion. I'm a friend to the same family, an' will put a spoke in your wheel, Masther, that'll sarve you.” “Oh, Mr. Lanigan, very well, sir--very well--you're becoming quite facetious upon me,” said the little man, rather confused; “but upon my credit and reputation, except the amorous inclination and regard to me is on her side,” and he looked sheepishly at his hands, “I can't say that the arrows of Cupid have as yet pinethrated the sintimintal side of my heart. It is not with me as it was wid Dido--hem-- Non 'haeret lateri lethalis arundo,' as Virgil says. Yet I can't say, but if a friend were to become spokesman for me, and insinuate in my behalf a small taste of amorous sintimintality, why--hem, hem, hem! The company's health! Lad, James M'Evoy, your health, and success to you, my good boy!--hem, hem!” “Here's wishin' him the same!” said the farmer.