* The devil;--a familiar name for him when mentioned in connection with a villain. “They say,” another would reply, “that the Colonel is a good gintleman for all that, an' that if he could once know the truth, he'd pitch the 'yallow boy' to the 'ould boy.'” No sooner was it known by his tenantry that the head landlord was disposed to redress their grievances, and hear their complaints, than the smothered attachment, which long neglect had nearly extinguished, now burst forth with uncommon power. “Augh! by this an' by that the throe blood's in him still. The rale gintleman to dale wid, for ever! We knew he only wanted to come at the thruth, an' thin he'd back us agin the villain that harrished us! To the divil wid skamin' upstarts, that hasn't the ould blood 'in thim! What are they but sconces an' chates, every one o' thim, barrin' an odd one, for a wondher!” The Colonel's estate now presented a scene of gladness and bustle. Every person who felt in the slightest degree aggrieved, got his petition drawn up; and, but that we fear our sketch is already too long, we could gratify the reader's curiosity by submitting a few of them. It is sufficient to say, that they came to him in every shape--in all the variety of diction that the poor English language admits of--in the schoolmaster's best copy-hand, and choicest sesquipedalianism of pedantry--in the severer, but more Scriptural terms of the parish clerk--in the engrossing hand and legal phrase of the attorney--in the military form, evidently redolent of the shrewd old pensioner--and in the classical style of the young priest:--for each and all of the foregoing were enlisted in the cause of those who had petitions to send in “to the Colonel himself, God bless him!” Early in the morning of the day on which the Colonel had resolved to compare the complaints of his tenantry with the character which his agent gave him of the complainants, he sent for the former, and the following dialogue took place between them. “Good morning, Mr. Carson! Excuse me for requesting your presence to-day earlier than usual. I have taken it into my head to know something of my own tenantry, and as they have pestered me with petitions, and letters, and complaints, I am anxious to have your opinion, as you know them better than I do.” “Before we enter on business, Colonel, allow me to inquire if you feel relieved of that bilious attack you complained of the day before yesterday? I'm of a bilious habit myself, and know something about the management of digestion!” “A good digestion is an excellent thing, Carson; as for me, I drank too much claret with my friend B----y; and there's the secret. I don't like cold wines, they never agree with me.” “Nor do I; they are not constitutional. Your father was celebrated for his wines, Colonel: I remember an anecdote told me by Captain Ferguson--by the by, do you know where Ferguson could be found, now, sir?” “Not I. What wines do you drink, Carson?”