bekase a goat has horns.  Horns, horns, horse horns!’—­he ups with them again, but the boys and girls ought not, bekase a horse has not horns; however any one that raises them then, gets a slake.  So that it all comes to this:—­Any one, you see that lifts his fingers when an animal is named that has no horns—­or any one that does not raise them when a baste is mintioned that has horns, will get a mark.  It’s a purty game, and requires a keen eye and a quick hand; and, maybe, there’s not fun in straiking the soot over the purty, warm, rosy cheeks of the colleens, while their eyes are dancing with delight in their heads, and their sweet breath comes over so pleasant about one’s face, the darlings!—­Och! och!

“There’s another game they call the Silly ould Man, that’s played this way:—­A ring of the boys and girls is made on the flure—­boy and girl about—­holding one another by the hands; well and good—­a young fellow gets into the middle of the ring, as ‘the silly ould Man.’  There he stands looking at all the girls to choose a wife, and, in the mane time, the youngsters of the ring sing out—­

     Here’s a silly ould Man that lies all alone,
     That lies all alone,
     That lies all alone;
     Here’s a silly ould man that lies all alone,
     He wants a wife and he can get none.

“When the’ boys and girls sing this, the silly ould man must choose a wife from some of the colleens belonging to the ring.  Having made choice of her, she goes into the ring along with him, and they all sing out—­

     Now, young couple, you’re married together,
     You’re married together,
     You’re married together,
     You must obey your father and mother,
     And love one another like sister and brother—­
     I pray, young couple, you’ll kiss together!

“And you may be sure this part of the marriage is not missed, any way.”

“I doubt,” said Andy Morrow, “that good can’t come of so much kissing, marrying, and coorting.”

The narrator twisted his mouth knowingly, and gave a significant groan.

“Be dhe husth,* hould your tongue, Misther Morrow,” said he; “Biddy avour-neen,” he continued, addressing Biddy and Bessy, “and Bessy, alannah, just take a friend’s advice, and never mind going to wakes; to be sure there’s plenty of fun and divarsion at sich places, but—­healths apiece!” putting the pint to his lips—­“and that’s all I say about it.”

“Right enough, Tom,” observed Shane Fadh—­“sure most of the matches are planned at them, and, I may say, most of the runaways, too—­poor, young, foolish crathurs, going off, and getting themselves married; then bringing small, helpless families upon their hands, without money or manes to begin the world with, and afterwards likely to eat one another out of the face for their folly; however, there’s no putting ould heads upon young shoulders, and I doubt, except the wakes are stopped altogether, that it’ll be the ould case still.”