Only an Irish Boy | Page 3

Burke was not the boy to run away from an opponent of his own
size and age. Neither did he propose to submit quietly to the thrashing

which Godfrey designed to give him. He dropped his stick and bundle,
and squared off scientifically at his aristocratic foe.
Godfrey paused an instant before him.
"I'm going to give you a thrashing," he said; "the worst thrashing you
ever had."
"Are you, now?" asked Andy, undismayed. "Come on, thin; I'm ready
for you."
"You're an impudent young ruffian."
"So are you."
Godfrey's aristocratic blood boiled at this retort, and he struck out at
Andy, but the latter knew what was coming, and, swift as a flash,
warded it off, and fetched Godfrey a blow full upon his nose, which
started the blood. Now, the pain and the sight of the blood combined
filled him with added fury, and he attempted to seize Andy around the
waist and throw him. But here again he was foiled. The young Irish boy
evaded his grasp, and, seizing him in turn, by an adroit movement of
the foot, tripped him up. Godfrey fell heavily on his back.
Andy withdrew a little, and did not offer to hold him down, as Godfrey
would have been sure to do under similar circumstances. "Have you got
enough?" he asked.
"That wasn't fair," exclaimed Godfrey, jumping up hastily, deeply
mortified because he had been worsted in the presence of John, who,
sooth to say, rather enjoyed his young master's overthrow.
He rushed impetuously at Andy, but he was blinded by his own
impetuosity, and his adversary, who kept cool and self-possessed, had,
of course, the advantage. So the engagement terminated as
before--Godfrey was stretched once more on the sidewalk. He was
about to renew the assault, however, when there was an interruption.
This interruption came in the form of Colonel Preston himself, who

was returning from a business meeting of citizens interested in
establishing a savings bank in the village.
"What's all this, Godfrey?" he called out, in a commanding tone.
Godfrey knew that when his father spoke he must obey, and he
therefore desisted from the contemplated attack. He looked up at his
father and said, sulkily:
"I was punishing this Irish boy for his impertinence."
John grinned a little at this way of putting it, and his father said:
"It looked very much as if he were punishing you."
"I didn't get fair hold," said Godfrey, sulkily.
"So he was impertinent, was he? What did he say?"
"He said I was no gentleman."
Andy Burke listened attentively to what was said, but didn't attempt to
justify himself as yet.
"I have sometimes had suspicions of that myself," said his father,
quietly.
Though Godfrey was an only son, his father was sensible enough to be
fully aware of his faults. If he was indulged, it was his mother, not his
father, that was in fault. Colonel Preston was a fair and just man, and
had sensible views about home discipline; but he was overruled by his
wife, whose character may be judged from the fact that her son closely
resembled her. She was vain, haughty, and proud of putting on airs. She
considered herself quite the finest lady in the village, but condescended
to associate with the wives of the minister, the doctor, and a few of the
richer inhabitants, but even with them she took care to show that she
regarded herself superior to them all. She was, therefore, unpopular, as
was her son among his companions. However, these two stood by each
other, and Mrs. Preston was sure to defend Godfrey in all he did, and

complained because his father did not do the same.
"I didn't think you'd turn against me, and let a low boy insult me,"
complained Godfrey.
"Why do you call him low?"
"Because he's only an Irish boy."
"Some of our most distinguished men have been Irish boys or of Irish
descent. I don't think you have proved your point."
"He's a beggar."
"I'm not a beggar," exclaimed Andy, speaking for the first time. "I
never begged a penny in all my life."
"Look at his rags," said Godfrey, scornfully.
"You would be in rags, too, if you had to buy your own clothes. I think
I should respect you very much more under the circumstances,"
returned his father.
"The colonel's a-givin' it to him," thought John, with a grin. "'Twon't do
the young master any harm."
"What is your name?" inquired Colonel Preston, turning now to our
hero, as his son seemed to have no more to say.
"Andy Burke."
"Do you live here?"
"I've just come to town, sir. My mother lives here."
"Where does she live?"
"I don't know, sir, just. He knows," pointing out John.

"I calcerlate his mother lives in old