At length, as Purcel and his family approached, the conversation was transferred from the political to the personal, and he, his wife, and his children, received at the hands of the people that satirical abuse, equally unjust and ungenerous, which an industrious family, who have raised themselves from poverty to independence, are in general certain to receive from all those who are deficient in the virtues by which the others rose. “Ay, there he comes now, ridin' on his jauntin' car, an' does he think that we all forget the time when he went wid his basket undher his arm, wid his half-a-crown's worth of beggarly hardware in it. He begun it as a brat of a boy, an' was called nothin' then but _Mahon na gair_ (that is 'Mat of the-grin'); but, by-and-by, when he came to have a pack over the shoulder, and to carry a yard wan' he began to turn Bodagh on our hands. Felix, it's himself that soon thought to set up for the style an' state.” “At any rate,” said the friendly voice aforesaid, “no one can deny but he's a good employer--if he'd give better wages.” “A good employer!” said Hourigan; “we all know he must get his work done--small thanks to him for that, an' a small price he-pays for it.” “We all know the ould proverb,” said another individual; “set a beggar on horseback, an' he'll ride to the devil. Whist! here they come.” As the last person concluded, Purcel and the female portion of his family drew up under the shadow of the tree already alluded to, which here overhung the road, so that he came right in contact with the crowd. “Ah, boys,” said he, with his characteristic good-humor, “how are you all? Darby Hourigan, how are your family? Isn't this glorious weather, boys?” “Blessed weather, sir,” replied Hourigan, who became in some degree spokesman. “I hope your honor an' the mistress, sir, an' the young ladies is all well.” “My honor, as you are pleased to call me, was never better in my life; as for the mistress and the young ladies there they are, so judge for yourself, Darby: but Darby my good friend, you have a d--d sneaking, slavish way with you. Why do you call me 'your honor' when you know--for I've often told you--that wouldn't bear it? Am I not one of yourselves? and don't most of you know that I began the world upon half-a-crown, and once carried a hardware basket on my arm?--d--n it, then, speak like a man to a man, and not like a slave, as I'm half inclined to think you are.” “Throth, sir,” replied Hourigan, with an indescribable laugh, “an' for all that you say, there's many that gets the title of 'your honor,' that doesn't desarve it _as well_.” “Ah well, man! Why, there's many a man gets it that doesn't desarve it _at all_, which is saying more than you said--ha! ha! ha!”