O’Bla. Now, Mr. Carver of Bob’s Fort, you’ve been over fartiguing yourself—
Mr. Carv. For the public good. I can’t help it, really.
O’Bla. Oh! but, upon my word and honour, it’s too much: there’s rason in all things. A man of Mr. Carver’s fortin to be slaving! If you were a man in business, like me, it would be another thing. I must slave at the desk to keep all round. See, Mr. Carver, see!—ever since the day you advised me to be as particular as yourself in keeping accounts to a farthing, I do, to a fraction, even like state accounts, see!
Mr. Carv. And I trust you find your advantage in it, sir. Pray, how does the distillery business go on?
O’Bla. Swimmingly! ever since that time, Mr. Carver, your interest at the castle helped me at the dead lift, and got that fine took off. ‘Tis to your purtiction, encouragement, and advice entirely, I owe my present unexampled prosperity, which you prophesied; and Mr. Carver’s prophecies seldom, I may say never, fail to be accomplished.
Mr. Carv. I own there is some truth in your observation. I confess I have seldom been mistaken or deceived in my judgment of man, woman, or child.
O’Bla. Who can say so much?
Mr. Carv. For what reason, I don’t pretend to say; but the fact ostensibly is, that the few persons I direct with my advice are unquestionably apt to prosper in this world.
O’Bla. Mighty apt! for which rason I would wish to trouble you for your unprecedently good advice on another pint, if it, would not be too great a liberty.
Mr. Carv. No liberty at all, my good Gerald—I am always ready to advise—only to-day—certainly, the fair day of Ballynavogue, there are so many calls upon me, both in a public and private capacity, so much business of vital importance!