Stories of Comedy | Page 3

there can a'most live under
wather; and goes down looking for diamonds, and has a sledge-hammer
in their hand, brakin' the diamonds when they're too big to take them up
whole, all as one as men brakin' stones an the road."
"Well, I don't want to go beyant that; but the way the lord's ingineer
goes down is, he has a little bell wid him, and while he has that little
bell to ring, hurt nor harm can't come to him."
"Arrah be aisy."
"Divil a lie in it."
"Maybe it's a blissed bell," said O'Reirdon, crossing himself.
"No, it is not a blissed bell."
"Why thin now do you think me sich a born nathral as to give in to that?
as if the ringin' iv the bell, barrin' it was a blissed bell, could do the like.
I tell you it's unpossible."
"Ah, nothin' 's unpossible to God."
"Sure I wasn't denyin' that; but I say the bell is unpossible."
"Why," said O'Sullivan, "you see he's not altogether complete in the
demonstheration o' the mashine; it is not by the ringin' o' the bell it is
done, but--"
"But what?" broke in O'Reirdon impatiently. "Do you mane for to say
there is a bell in it at all at all?"

"Yis, I do," said O'Sullivan.
"I towld you so," said the promulgator of the story.
"Aye," said O'Sullivan, "but it is not by the ringin' iv the bell it is
done."
"Well, how is it done then?" said the other, with a half-offended,
half-supercilious air.
"It is done," said O'Sullivan, as he returned the look with interest,--"it is
done entirely by jommethry."
"Oh! I understan' it now," said O'Reirdon, with an inimitable
affectation of comprehension in the Oh!--"but to talk of the ringin' iv a
bell doin' the like is beyant the beyants intirely, barrin', as I said before,
it was a blissed bell, glory be to God!"
"And so you tell me, sir, it is jommethry," said the twice-discomfited
man of science.
"Yis, sir," said O'Sullivan with an air of triumph, which rose in
proportion as he carried the listeners along with him,--"jommethry."
"Well, have it your own way. There's them that won't hear rayson
sometimes, nor have belief in larnin'; and you may say it's jommethry if
you plaze; but I heerd them that knows betther than iver you knew
say--"
"Whisht, whisht! and bad cess to you both," said O'Reirdon, "what the
dickens are yiz goin' to fight about now, and sich good liquor before yiz?
Hillo! there, Mrs. Quigley, bring uz another quart i' you plaze; aye,
that's the chat, another quart. Augh! yiz may talk till yo're black in the
face about your invintions, and your staymers, and bell ringin' and gash,
and railroads; but here's long life and success to the man that invinted
the impairil (imperial) quart; that was the rail beautiful invintion." And
he took a long pull at the replenished vessel, which strongly indicated
that the increase of its dimensions was a very agreeable measure to

such as Barny.
After the introduction of this and other quarts, it would not be an easy
matter to pursue the conversation that followed. Let us, therefore,
transfer our story to the succeeding morning, when Barny O'Reirdon
strolled forth from his cottage, rather later than usual, with his eyes
bearing eye witness to the carouse of the preceding night. He had not a
headache, however; whether it was that Barny was too experienced a
campaigner under the banners of Bacchus, or that Mrs. Quigley's boast
was a just one, namely, "that of all the drink in her house, there wasn't a
headache in a hogshead of it," is hard to determine, but I rather incline
to the strength of Barny's head.
Barny sauntered about in the sun, at which he often looked up, under
the shelter of compressed bushy brows and long-lashed eyelids, and a
shadowing hand across his forehead, to see "what o' day" it was; and,
from the frequency of this action, it was evident the day was hanging
heavily with Barny. He retired at last to a sunny nook in a neighboring
field, and stretching himself at full length, basked in the sun, and began
"to chew the cud of sweet and bitter thought." He first reflected on his
own undoubted weight in his little community, but still he could not get
over the annoyance of the preceding night, arising from his being
silenced by O'Sullivan; "a chap," as he said himself, "that lift the place
four years agon a brat iv a boy, and to think iv his comin' back and
outdoin' his elders, that saw him runnin' about the place, a gassoon, that
one could tache a few months before"; 'twas too bad. Barny saw his
reputation was in a