“‘Come in,’ said I.
“The waiter opened gently, and held out his hand with a large roll of paper tied round with a piece of red tape.
“‘Counsellor,’ said he, ‘handsel.’
“‘What do you mean?’ said I, jumping out of bed. ‘What is it, you villain?’
“‘A brief.’
“‘A brief. So I see; but it’s for Counsellor Kinshella, below stairs.’ That was the first name written on it.
“‘Bethershin,’ said he, ‘Mr. M’Grath bid me give it to you carefully.’
“By this time I had opened the envelope and read my own name at full length as junior counsel in the important case of Monaghan v. M’Shean, to be tried in the Record Court at Ballinasloe. ‘That will do,’ said I, flinging it on the bed with a careless air, as if it were a very every-day matter with me.
“‘But Counsellor, darlin’, give us a thrifle to dhrink your health with your first cause, and the Lord send you plenty of them!’
“‘My first,’ said I, with a smile of most ineffable compassion at his simplicity; ‘I’m worn out with them. Do you know, Peter, I was thinking seriously of leaving the bar, when you came into the room? Upon my conscience, it’s in earnest I am.’