“And you’ve seen a goodish bit in your time?” said another of the guests.
“Bin all over the world—no, I don’t quite mane that, but I’ve bin everywhere in the United Kingdom. But people seem to have lost heart.”
“That’s true enough—we all find that out,” cried Peace; “at least I find it so in my line.”
“An’ what might that be, if it’s a fair question?” said the sedate little man.
“An’ sure it’s in the hawkin’ line that our frind is,” returned Macarty.
As the steaming glasses of whiskey and water went round, the company became loquacious and assumed a festive character.
Mr. Macarty was full of anecdote. He had stories to tell which elicited roars of laughter, and was voted a most genial companion, which, to say the truth, he most unquestionably was.
After treating them with several amusing anecdotes, he all at once came to a halt, and said sharply—
“Och, sure now, did I ever tell ye about the biggest man in all Ireland?”
“No, never!” cried several.