“I beg your pardon, Squire, I can take freedoms with you; but perhaps the concomitant gentleman, your friend here, would be pleased to take my stool. Indeed, I always use a chair, but the back of it, if I may, be permitted the use of a small portion of jocularity, was as frail as the fair sect: it went home yisterday to be mended. Do, sir, condescind to be sated. Upon my reputation, Squire, I'm sorry that I have not accommodation for you, too, sir; except one of these hassocks, which, in joint considheration with the length of your honor's legs, would be, I anticipate, rather low; but you, sir, will honor me by taking the stool.”
By considerable importunity he forced the gentleman to comply with his courtesy; but no sooner had he fixed himself upon the seat than it overturned, and stretched him, black coat and all, across a wide concavity in the floor nearly filled up with white ashes produced from mountain turf. In a moment he was completely white on one side, and exhibited a most laughable appearance; his hat, too, was scorched and nearly burned on the turf coals. Squire Johnston laughed heartily, so did the other schoolmaster, whilst the Englishman completely lost his temper—swearing that such another uncivilized establishment was not between the poles.
“I solemnly supplicate upwards of fifty pardons,” said Mat; “bad manners to it for a stool! but, your honor, it was my own detect of speculation, bekase, you see, it's minus a leg—a circumstance of which you waren't wi a proper capacity to take cognation, its not being personally acquainted with it. I humbly supplicate upwards of fifty pardons.”
The Englishman was now nettled, and determined to wreak his ill-temper on Mat, by turning him and his establishment into ridicule.
“Isn't this, Mister ——— I forget your name, sir.”
“Mat Kavanagh, at your sarvice.”
“Very well, my learned friend, Mr. Mat Kevanagh, isn't this precisely what is called a hedge-school?”
“A hedge-school!” replied Mat, highly offended; “my seminary a hedge-school! No, sir; I scorn the cognomen in toto. This, sir, is a Classical and Mathematical Seminary, under the personal superintendence of your humble servant.”
“Sir,” replied the other master, who till then was silent, wishing, perhaps, to sack Mat in presence of the gentlemen, “it is a hedge-school; and he is no scholar, but an ignoramus, whom I'd sack in three minutes, that would be ashamed of a hedge-school.”
“Ay,” says Mat, changing his tone, and taking the cue from his friend, whose learning he dreaded, “it's just for argument's sake, a hedge-school; and, what is more, I scorn to be ashamed of it.”