"Me dine wid you, is it? bedad, an' that's a good joke," said Dan, with another explosion of laughter. "Ho, ho! my fine fella, av jokes was only nourishin', what a fine feed of fun you might have, to be sure."
"Oh, then, by the king of Agypt's baker, that was hanged for makin' his majesty's loaf short weight—the divil's cure to him—it's starved I'd be that way too, for the fun's pinched right out o' me," replied the Squire, in a melancholy tone.
"Why, you don't mane to be tellin' me that you're unhappy in yer present lot?" Dan asked, in the hope of coming to the point at once.
"Where would be the use in sayin' I'm not?" replied the other, cautiously.
"Only just for the pleasure of gettin' at the thruth."
"Bedad, he'd be a wise man that could crack that egg. If it comes to that, how do you like them legs o' yours? It isn't much dancin' you do now, I'm thinkin'."
"Well, not a great dale, seein' that it's a foolish sort of exercise for a man of my consequence," said Dan, shaking the guineas about in his pockets with increased vigor.
"An' how do you find the Misthress's timper now, might I ax?" inquired Bulworthy, with a meaning look.
"Aisy as an ould glove, I'm obliged to you," Dan replied, with wondrous placidity of countenance.
"Peg, my Peg's a real blessin' in a house; an' as for that jewel of a babby"——