-----“Says he, 'Hut tut, Branagan,' says I--'you're drunk.' 'That's the thing, sir' says Branagan, 'and I want to explain it all to your Reverence.' 'Well,' said I, 'go on---” “_Gallus Gallinaceus_, a dunghill cock----” ----“Says he,----Let your Gallus Gallinaceus go to roost for this night, Con,” said Father Philemy, who did not relish the interruption of his story; “I say, Phaddhy, send the boy to bed, and bring him down in your hand to my house on Saturday morning, and we will both examine him, but this is no time for it, and me engaged in conversation with Captain Wilson.--So, Captain ____'Well, sir,' says Branagan, and he staggering,--'I took an oath against liquor, and I want your Reverence to break it,' says he. 'What do you mean?' I inquired. 'Why, please your Reverence,' said he, 'I took an oath against liquor, as I told you, not to drink more nor a pint of whiskey in one day, and I want your Reverence to break it for me, and make it only half a pint; for I find that a pint is too much for me; by the same token, that when I get that far, your Reverence, I disremember the oath entirely.” The influence of the bottle now began to be felt, and the conversation absolutely blew a gale, wherein hearty laughter, good strong singing, loud argument, and general good humor blended into one uproarious peal of hilarity, accompanied by some smart flashes of wit and humor which would not disgrace a prouder banquet. Phaddhy, in particular, melted into a spirit of the most unbounded benevolence--a spirit that would (if by any possible means he could effect it) embrace the whole human race; that is to say, he would raise them, man, woman, and child, to the same elevated state of happiness which he enjoyed himself. That, indeed, was happiness in perfection, as pure and unadulterated as the poteen which created it. How could he be otherwise than happy?--he had succeeded to a good property, and a stocking of hard guineas, without the hard labor of acquiring them; he had the “clargy” under his roof at last, partaking of a hospitality which he felt himself well able to afford them; he had settled with his Reverence for five years' arrears of sin, all of which had been wiped out of his conscience by the blessed absolving hand of the priest; he was training up Briney for the Mission, and though last, not least, he was--far gone in his seventh tumbler! “Come, jinteels,” said he, “spare nothing here--there's lashings of every thing; thrate yourselves dacent, and don't be saying tomorrow or next day, that ever my father's son was nagerly. Death alive, Father Con, what are you doin'? Why, then, bad manners to me if that'll sarve, any how.” “Phaddhy,” replied Father Con, “I assure you I have done my duty.”