“'Certainly, of course,' said M'Clutchy.
“'But, father,' said Phil, 'couldn't we admit him after the business of the lodge is concluded.'
“'It is not often done,' replied the father; 'but it sometimes is—however, we shall have the pleasure, Mr. Easel—(I forgot to say that I had sent in my card, so that he knew my name),—we shall have the pleasure of a better acquaintance, I trust.'
“'I tell you what,' said Phil, leaping off his chair, 'd—-n my honor, but I was wrong to let young Hartley go without a thrashing. The cowardly scoundrel was exceedingly insulting.'
“'No, no, Phil,' said the father; 'you acted with admirable coolness and prudence.'
“'I tell you I ought to have kicked the rascal out,' said Phil, getting into a passion; 'I'll follow him and teach the impudent vagabond a lesson he wants.'
“He seized his hat, and buttoned up his coat, as if for combat, whilst he spoke.
“'Phil, be quiet,' said his father, rising up and putting his arms about him; 'be quiet now. There will be no taming him down, if his spirit gets up,' said Val, addressing me; 'for all our sakes, Phil, keep quiet and sit down. Good heaven! the strength of him! Phil, keep quiet, I say, you shan't go after him.'
“'Let me go,' shouted the other; 'let me go, I say. I will smash him to atoms. Upon my honor and reputation, he shall not escape me this way—I'll send him home a hoop—a triangle—a zoologist. I'll beat him into mustard, the cowardly scoundrel! And only you were a magistrate, father, I would have done it before you. Let me go, I say—the M'Clutchy blood is up in me! Father, you're a scoundrel if you hold me! You know what a lion I am—what a raging lion, when roused. Hands off, M'Clutchy, I say, when you know I'm a thunderbolt.'
“The tugging and pulling that took place here between the father and son were extraordinary, and I could not in common decency decline assisting the latter to hold him in. I consequently lent him my aid seriously; but this only made things worse:—the more he was held, the more violent and outrageous he became. He foamed at the mouth—stormed—swore—and tore about with such vehemence, that I really began to think the fellow was a dull flint, which produced, fire slowly, but that there was fire in him. The struggle still proceeded, and we pulled and dragged each other through every part of the house:—chairs, and tables, and office-stools were all overturned—and Phil's cry was still for war.