"
"God bless you, gintlemen!" said M'Evoy--"God bless your honors, for
your kind Words! I'm sure for my own part, I hope though but a poor man
now, God help me!"
"Pray, who occupies the farm at present, Mr. Carson?"
"The man I mentioned to you this morning, sir. His name is Jackson."
"And pray, Mr. Carson, who is his wife?"
"Oh, by the by, Colonel, that's a little too close! I see the gentlemen
smile; but they know I must beg to decline answering that question---not
that it matters much. We have all sown our wild oats in our time--myself
as well as another--ha, ha, ha!"
"The fact, under other circumstances," observed the Colonel, "could
never draw an inquiry from me; but as it is connected with, or probably
has occasioned, a gross, unfeeling, and an unjust act of oppression
towards an honest man, I therefore alluded to it, as exhibiting the
motives from which you acted. She is your illegitimate daughter, sir!"
"She's one o' the baker's dozen o' them, plase your honor," observed a
humorous little Presbyterian, with a sarcastic face, and sharp northern
accent--"for feth, sir, for my part, A thenk he lies one on every hill
head. All count, your honor, on my fingers a roun' half-dozen, all on
your estate, sir, featherin' their nests as fast as they can."
"Is this Jackson a good tenant, Mr. Carson?"
"I gave you his character this morning, Colonel B."
"Hout, Colonel!" said the Presbyterian, "deil a penny rent the man pays,
at all, at all.
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