“I did,” says Corney, with his mouth at the bull's-horn, “and how he advertised the fine fortune he'd give his lame daughter; and how, while he was making a great match for her, one Purcell, a bit of a tailor, away there at Dungarvan, ran off with her. Sure I've a story as long as from here till to-morrow, and two or three songs about them. Didn't ould Hogan make it up with Purcell, and lave him all he had? And didn't the tailor turn upstart when he'd got the money,--and wouldn't look on his own relations, but cocked his nose at them, and every body that used to know him, as though they were dirt?” “Well then, Corney,” says Luke; “and if you never saw him before, you can get a look at him now, for this is himself.” “Oh! pullaloo! murther and horse-beans!” shouted Corney; “and is it with Purcell I've been riding?--No offence, sir,--and I beg pardon for being bould in the bog there;--but are you now, without a word of a lie,--are you the Mushroom?” “I hope I'm not brought here to be insulted,” says the gentleman. “Well I but are you Mr. Purcell--or are you not? Is it you that's own cousin to that Thady Purcell, whose widow is married to Jack Forrester--ould Timberleg Toe-trap's club-footed son? Are you the Dungarvan tailor that snapped up Andie Hogan's lame daughter, or is Luke a liar?--Answer me that now, and there'll be an end of our talk.” “I shall not remain here another minute,” says Purcell; for it was indeed himself--and Luke Fogarty had seen him at The Beg, dunning young Veogh, for money Pierce owed him, long before:--“I shall try if I can't get civility, at least, under another roof;” says he. “Sure, I'm not uncivil,” says Corney; “or, if I was, I didn't intind it.” “Then have done, fellow!” “Is it 'fellow?--Well! calling me names don't break my bones, or I'd give you a poke with my toe, so I would; and there's not much harm in 'fellow--I've been called more than that, without taking the trouble to put myself in a passion,--and why should I with you? Any how, I'll make up my mind to this:--you're one o' the wonders, ar'n't you?--I'm sure of it:--for you wouldn't so quietly hear yourself accused of being Andie Hogan's son-in-law, if it wasn't a true bill. Well, to be sure, I've had grate luck, one way and another:--I saw Lord Nelson, and the Giant's Causeway, and the Saltees, and Kilkenny coal, and the horse with two heads, and Mick Maguire's relation, that swore against the priest, and now I see the Mushroom!--what more could I wish?”