Woodward, perceiving Barney's anxiety to deliver himself of his narrative, made him take an additional draught by way of encouragement to proceed, which, having very willingly finished the bumper offered him, he did as follows: "Well, Masther Harry, in the first place, do you believe in the Bible ?" "In the Bible!--ahem--why--yes--certainly, Barney; do you suppose I'm not a Christian ?" "God forbid," replied Barney; "well, the Bible itself isn't thruer than what I'm goin' to tell you--sure all the world for ten miles round knows it." "Well, but, Barney, I would rather you would let me know it in the first place." "So I will, sir.

Well, then, there was a witch-woman, by name one Bet Harramount, and on the surface of God's earth, blessed be his name! there was nothin' undher a bonnet and petticoats so ugly.

She was pitted wid the small-pox to that degree that you might hide half a peck of marrowfat paise (peas) in her face widout their being noticed; then the sanies (seams) that ran across it were five-foot raspers, every one of them.

She had one of the purtiest gooseberry eyes in Europe; and only for the squint in the other, it would have been the ornament of her comely face entirely; but as it was, no human bein' was ever able to decide between them.

She had two buck teeth in the front of her mouth that nobody could help admirin'; and, indeed, altogether I don't wondher that the devil fell in consate wid her, for, by all accounts, they say he carries a sweet tooth himself for comely ould women like Bet Harramount.