When Father Tom first spoke of his 'dennet,' I innocently pictured to myself something resembling the indigenous productions of Loughrea. 'A little heavy or so,' thought I; 'strong for country roads; mayhap somewhat clumsy in the springs, and not over-refined about the shafts.' Heaven help my ignorance! I never fancied a vehicle whose component parts were two stout poles, surmounting a pair of low wheels, high above which was suspended, on two lofty C springs, the body of an ancient buggy—the lining of a bright scarlet, a little faded and dimmed by time, bordered by a lace of the most gaudy pattern; a flaming coat-of-arms, with splendid blazonry and magnificent quarterings, ornamented each panel of this strange-looking tub, into which, for default of steps, you mounted by a ladder.

'Eh, father,' said I, 'what have we here? This is surely not the——'

'Ay, Captain,' said the good priest, as a smile of proud satisfaction curled his lip, 'that's “the convaniency”; and a pleasanter and an easier never did man sit in. A little heavy, to be sure; but then one can always walk up the hills; and if they're very stiff ones entirely, why it's only throwing out the ballast.'

'The ballast! What do you mean?'

'Just them,' said he, pointing with his whip to some three or four huge pieces of limestone rock that lay in the bottom of the gig; 'there's seven, maybe eight, stone weight, every pound of it.'

'And for heaven's sake,' said I, 'why do you carry that mass of rubbish along with you?'

'I'll just tell you then. The road has holes in it you could bury your father in; and when the convaniency gets into one of them, she has a way of springing up into the air, that, if you 're not watching, is sure to pitch you out—maybe into the bog at the side, maybe on the beast's back. I was once actually thrown into a public-house window, where there was a great deal of fun going on, and the bishop came by before I extricated myself. I assure you I had hard work to explain it to his satisfaction.' There was a lurking drollery in his eye, as he said these last few words, that left me to the full as much puzzled about the accident as his worthy diocesan. 'But look at the springs,' he continued; 'there's metal for you! And do you mind the shape of the body? It's for all the world like the ancient curriculus. And look at Bathershin himself—the ould varmint! Sure, he's classical too! Hasn't he a Roman nose; and ain't I a Roman myself? So get up, Captain—ascendite ad currum; get into the shay. And now for the doch-aiv-dhurrss—the stirrup-cup, Mrs. Doolan: that's the darlin'. Ah, there's nothing like it!

“Sit mihi lagena, Ad summum plena.”

Here, Captain, take a pull—beautiful milk-punch!'

Draining the goblet to the bottom, which I confess was no unpleasant task, I pledged my kind hostess, who, curtsying deeply refilled the vessel for Father Tom.