There was one old man of the party whose furrowed forehead, compressed eyebrows, piqued nose, and mouth depressed at the corners, at once indicated to a physiognomist a querulous temper. He was one of your doubters upon all occasions, one of the unfailing elements of an argument;—as he said himself, he was "dubersome" about everything, and he had hence earned the name of Daddy Dubersome amongst his neighbours. Well, Daddy began to doubt the probability that any such boon as the extinction of tithes was to take place, and said, he was "sartin sure 'twas too good news to be thrue."
"Tare anounty," said another, who was the very antithesis of Daddy in his credulous nature, "sure, didn't I see it myself in prent."
"I was towld often that things was in prent," returned Daddy, drily, "that come out lies afther, to my own knowledge."
"But sure," added a third, "sure, didn't the Prime Ear himself lay it all out before the Parley mint?"
"What Prime Ear are you talking about, man dear?" said Daddy, rather testily.
"Why, the Prime Ear of his Majesty, and no less. Is that satisfaction for you, eh?"
"Well, and who is the Prime Ear?"
"Why, the Prime Ear of his Majesty, I towld you before. You see, he is the one that hears of everything that is to be done for the whole impire in particular; and bekase he hears of everything, that's the rayson he is called the Prime Ear—and a good rayson it is."
"Well, but what has that to do with the tithes? I ask you again," said Daddy with his usual pertinacity.
Here he was about to be answered by the former speaker, whose definition of "The Premier," had won him golden opinions amongst the by-standers,—when he was prevented by a fourth orator, who rushed into the debate with this very elegant opening—