Well, I'm forgettin' my story in the mane time.

At that time, a party of about sixty of us made up our minds to pay Callaghan a nightly visit.

The man, you see, made no distinction betune the rich and poor, or rather he made every distinction, for he was all bows and scrapes to the rich, and all whip and fagot to the poor.

Ah, he was a sore blisther to that part of the counthry he lived in, and many a widow's an' orphan's curse he had.

At any rate, to make a long story short, we went a set of us, a few nights afore we called upon him--that is, in a friendly way, for we had no intention of takin' his life, but merely to tickle him into good humor a bit, and to make him have a little feelin' for the poor, that he many a time tickled an' got tickled by the sogar's bagnet to some purpose; we went, I say, to a lonely place, and we dug sich a grave as we thought might fit him, and havin' buttoned and lined it well with thorns, we then left it covered over with scraws for fraid anybody might find it out.