“The boys,” said Darby, thereby meaning his own party, “does be always sly and careful, and begin by asking, maybe, for 'Do you incline?' or 'Crows in the barley,' or the like. Then they 'll say, 'Have you anything new, Mister M'Keown, from up the country?' 'Something sweet, is it?' says I. 'Ay, or sour, av ye have it,' they 'll 'say. 'Maybe ye'd like “Vinegar-hill,” then,' says I. Arrah, you'd see their faces redden up with delight; and how they 'll beat time to every stroke of the tune, it 's a pleasure to play for them. But the yeos (meaning the yeomen) will call out mightily,--'Piper! halloo there! piper, I say, rise The Boyne water, or Croppies lie down.'” “And of course you refuse, Darby?” “Refuse! Refuse, is it? and get a bayonet in me? Devil a bit, my dear. I 'll play it up with all the spirit I can; and nod my head to the tune, and beat the time with my heel and toe; and maybe, if I see need of it, I fasten this to the end of the chanter, and that does the business entirely.” Here Darby took from the lining of his hat a bunch of orange ribbon, whose faded glories showed it had done long and active service in the cause of loyalty. I confess Darby's influence over me did not gain any accession of power by this honest avowal of his political expediency; and the bold assertion of a nation's wrongs, by which at first he won over my enthusiasm, seemed sadly at variance with this truckling policy. He was quicksighted enough to perceive what was passing in my mind, and at once remarked,-- “'Tis a hard part we're obliged to play, Master Tom; but one comfort we have,--it 's only a short time we 'll need it. You know the song? “Here he broke into the popular tune of the day:-- “'And the French will come again, Says the Shan van vaugh; And they 'll bring ten thousand men. Says the Shan van vaugh; And with powder and with ball, For our rights we 'll loudly call: Don't you think they 'll hear us then! Says the Shan van vaugh.' Ye must larn that air, Master Tom. And see, now, the yeos is as fond of it as the boys; only remember to put their own words to it,--and devil a harm in that same when one 's not in earnest. See, now, I believe it 's a natural pleasure for an Irishman to be humbugging somebody; and faix, when there 's nobody by he 'd rather be taking a rise out of himself than doing nothing. It 's the way that 's in us, God help us! Sure it 's that same makes us sich favorites with the ladies, and gives us a kind of native janius for coortin': “''T is the look of his eye, And a way he can sigh, Makes Paddy a darlin' wherever he goes; With a sugary brogue. Ye 'd hear the rogue Cheat the girls before their nose.' And why not? Don't they like to be chated, when they 're sure to win after all,--to win a warm heart and a stout arm to fight for them?”