"In heaven's name," cried the pale, trembling girl, "what do you mean—kissed who?"
"No who at all," said Ned, laughingly, "but it, I've kissed it."
"Kissed what?"
"Why, the Blarney Stone, to be sure," screamed out Ned, flinging his hat at pussy, and executing an extremely complicated double-shuffle in the delight of the moment; indeed, conducting himself altogether in a manner which would have jeopardized the sanity of any one but a love-stricken Irishman.
"Sure it was all for you, Nelly, mavourneen, that I did it; it has loosened the strings of my tongue, and now I can tell you how deeply your image is burnin' within my very heart of hearts, you bright-eyed, beautiful darling!"
What more he said or did, it will be unnecessary for me to relate; suffice it to say that the world-renowned talisman lost none of its efficacy on this particular occasion. One observation of pretty Nell's, I think is worthy of record. At the close of a most uninteresting conversation, to anybody but themselves, the affectionate girl whispered to him:
"Dear Ned, you needn't have gone so far!"
The course of true love sometimes does run smooth, a great authority to the contrary, nevertheless, for in about three weeks' time, the chapel bells rang merrily for the wedding of Edward and Nelly. Aye, and what's more, neither of them had ever cause to regret Ned's visit to The Blarney Stone.