thrason for a subject to have as many windies in his house as the king. (* Such is the popular opinion.) However, Jack, at any rate, had enough of them; and he that couldn’t be happy with three hundred and sixty-four, wouldn’t desarve to have three hundred and sixty-five.  Along with all this, he bought coaches and carriages, and didn’t get proud like many another beggarly upstart, but took especial good care of his mother, whom he dressed in silks and satins, and gave her nice nourishing food, that was fit for an ould woman in her condition.  He also got great tachers, men of great larning, from Dublin, acquainted with all subjects; and as his own abilities were bright, he soon became a very great scholar, entirely, and was able, in the long run, to outdo all his tutherers.

“In this way he lived for some years—­was now a man of great larning himself—­could spake the seven langidges, and it would delight your ears to hear how high-flown and Englified he could talk.  All the world wondered where he got his wealth; but as he was kind and charitable to every one that stood in need of assistance, the people said that wherever he got it it couldn’t be in better hands.  At last he began to look about him for a wife, and the only one in that part of the country that would be at all fit for him, was the Honorable Miss Bandbox, the daughter of a nobleman in the neighborhood.  She indeed flogged all the world for beauty; but it was said that she was proud and fond of wealth, though, God he knows, she had enough of that any how.  Jack, however, saw none of this; for she was cunning enough to smile, and simper, and look pleasant, whenever he’d come to her father’s.  Well, begad, from one thing, and one word, to another, Jack thought it was best to make up to her at wanst, and try if she’d accept of him for a husband; accordingly he put the word to her like a man, and she, making as if she was blushing, put her fan before her face and made no answer.  Jack, however, wasn’t to be daunted; for he knew two things worth knowing, when a man goes to look for a wife:  the first is—­that ’faint heart never won fair lady,’ and the second—­that ‘silence gives consint;’ he, therefore, spoke up to her in fine English, for it’s he that knew how to speak now, and after a little more fanning and blushing, by jingo, she consinted.  Jack then broke the matter to her father, who was as fond of money as the daughter, and only wanted to grab at him for the wealth.

“When the match was a making, says ould Bandbox to Jack, ‘Mr. Magennis,’ says he, (for nobody called him Jack now but his mother)—­’these two things you must comply with, if you marry my daughter, Miss Gripsy:—­you must send away your mother from about you, and pull down the cabin in which you and she used to live; Gripsy says that they would jog her memory consarning your low birth and former poverty; she’s nervous and high-spirited, Mr. Magennis, and declares upon her honor that she couldn’t bear the thoughts of having the delicacy of her feeling offinded by these things.’