“'Faith! it was coals to Newcastle with a vengeance, in the present case, for the girl would have nothing to say to him, and Tom had great delight whenever he could annoy this poor fool in his love-making plots. So, when he came to Tom to ask for the loan of his horse, Tom said he should have him if he could make the smallest use of him—'but I don't think you can,' said Tom. 'Leave that to me,' said the youth. 'I don't think you could make him go,' said Tom. 'I'll buy a new pair of spurs,' said the puppy. 'Let them be handsome ones,' said Tom. 'I was looking at a very handsome pair at Lamprey's, yesterday,' said the young gentleman. 'Then you can buy them on your way to my stables,' said Tom; and sure enough, sir, the youth laid out his money on a very costly pair of persuaders, and then proceeded homewards with Tom. 'Now, with all your spurs,' said Tom, 'I don't think you'll be able to make him go.' 'Is he so very vicious, then?' inquired the youth, who began to think of his neck. 'On the contrary,' said Tom, 'he's perfectly quiet, but won't go for you, I'll bet a pound.' 'Done!' said the youth. 'Well, try him,' said Tom, as he threw open the stable door. 'He's lazy, I see,' said the youth; 'for he's lying down.' 'Faith, he is,' said Tom, 'and hasn't got up these two days!' 'Get up, you brute!' said the innocent youth, giving a smart cut of his whip on the horse's flank; but the horse did not budge. 'Why, he's dead!' says he. 'Yes,' says Tom, 'since Monday last. So I don't think you can make him go, and you've lost your bet!'”
“That was hardly a fair joke,” said the Squire.
“Tom never stops to think of that,” returned the doctor; “he's the oddest fellow I ever knew. The last time I was in Dublin, I called on Tom and found him one bitter cold and stormy morning standing at an open window, nearly quite undressed. On asking him what he was about, he said he was getting up a bass voice; that Mrs. Somebody, who gave good dinners and bad concerts, was disappointed of her bass singer, 'and I think,' said Tom, 'I'll be hoarse enough in the evening to take double B flat. Systems are the fashion now,' said he; 'there is the Logierian system and other systems, and mine is the Cold-air-ian system, and the best in the world for getting up a bass voice.'”
“That was very original certainly,” said the Squire.
“But did you ever hear of his adventure with the Duke of Wellington?” said the doctor.
“The Duke!” they all exclaimed.
“Yes—that is, when he was only Sir Arthur Wellesley. Well, I'll tell you.”
“Stop,” said the Squire, “a fresh story requires a fresh bottle. Let me ring for some claret.”