“Some time after this marriage, and towards the period to which we before referred, when the Goban Saer and his son were setting off, at the invitation of the British prince, to erect his superb palace, this young woman exhibited considerable abilities, and the keenness of her expressions, and the brilliancy of her wit, far outdid, on many occasions, the acumen of the Goban Saer himself; she now cautioned him, when his old father, who did not, like modern architects, Bianconi it along macadamised roads, got tired from the length of the journey, _to shorten the road_; and, secondly, not to sleep a third night in any house without securing the interest of _a domestic female friend_. The travellers pursued their way, and after some weary walking over flinty roads, and through intricate passages, the strength of the elder Goban yielded to the fatigue of the journey. The dutiful son would gladly _shorten the road_ for the wayworn senior, but felt himself unequal to the task. On acquainting his father with the conjugal precept, the old man unravelled the mystery by bidding him commence some strange legend of romance, whose delightful periods would beguile fatigue and pain into charmed attention. Irishmen, I believe, are the cleverest in Europe at ‘_throwing it over_’ females in foreign places, and it is pretty likely that the younger Goban did not disobey the second precept of his beloved wife. On the second night of their arrival at the king’s court, he found in the person of a female of very high rank (some say she was the king’s daughter), a friend who gave her confiding heart to all the dear delights that love and this Irish experimentalist could bestow. As the building proceeded under the skilful superintendence of the elder Goban, the son acquaints him with the progress of his love, and the ardent attachment of the lady. The cautious old man bade him beware of one capable of such violent passion, and take care lest her jealousy or caprice might not be equally ungovernable, and display more fearful effects. To discover her temper, the father ordered him to sprinkle her face with water as he washed himself in the morning--that if she received the aspersion with a smile, her love was disinterested, and her temper mild; but if she frowned darkly, her love was lust, and her anger formidable. The young man playfully sprinkled the crystal drops on the face of his lover--she smiled gently--and the young Goban rested calmly on that tender bosom, where true love and pitying mildness bore equal sway.