This gentleman's character at once pointed him out as the fitting agent of vengeance on my father, and by an hour after daybreak did I present myself before him in all the consciousness of my injured state.
Mr. Morissy's reception of me was not over gracious.
“Well, ye spawn of the devil,” said he, as he turned about from a small fragment of looking-glass, before which he was shaving, “what brings ye here? Bad luck to ye; the sight of ye's made me cut myself.”
“I'm come, sir, for a bit of advice, sir,” said I, putting my hand to my hat in salutation.
“Assault and battery!” said he, with a grin on the side of his mouth where the soap had been shaved away.
“Yes, sir; an aggravated case,” said I, using the phrase of the Sessions.
“Why don't ye apply to yer father? He's Crown lawyer and Attorney-General; faith, he 's more besides,—he 's judge and jury too.”
“And more than that in the present suit, sir,” says I, following up his illustration; “he's the defendant here.”
“What! is that his doing?”
“Yes, sir; his own hand and mark,” said I, laughing.