"Oh dear, no!" said the Squire; "the boy takes any letters that may be for the post the following morning, as he goes to the town to look for letters."
"But you lose a post by that," said Furlong.
"And what matter?" said the Squire.
The official's notions of regularity were somewhat startled by the Squire's answer; so he pushed him with a few more questions. In reply to one of the last, the Squire represented that the post-boy was saved going twice a day by the present arrangement.
"Ay, but you lose a post, my dear sir," said Furlong, who still clung with pertinacity to the fitness of saving a post. "Don't you see that you might weceive your letter at half-past ten; well, then you'll have a full hour to wite you' answer; that's quite enough time, I should think, for you wetu'ning an answer."
"But, my dear sir," said Murtough Murphy, "our grand object in Ireland is not to answer letters."
"Oh!—ah!—hum!—indeed!—well, that's odd; how vewy odd you Iwish are!"
"Sure, that's what makes us such pleasant fellows," said Murtough. "If we were like the rest of the world, there would be nothing remarkable about us; and who'd care for us?"
"Well, Mr. Muffy, you say such queer things—weally."
"Ay, and I do queer things sometimes—don't I, Squire?"