Come now, you jumpin' jewel you, that was born wid a honey-comb somewhere between, that purty chin and beautiful nose of yours--throth it must have a taste, for who the dickens could, refuse the _Cannie Soogah_, and before Lilly, who, by the way, was nothing, loath, could put herself in an attitude of defense, he had inflicted several smacks upon as pretty a pair of lips as ever were pressed.
"Upon my word; now, Mr.Magrath, you're very impudent," she replied, "I wonder you're not ashamed, you great strong man you, to be kissing girls in this manner, whether they will or not.

Look at the state you have my hair in; you're very rude, Mr.Magrath, and I'm really angry with you; you've broken one of my side-combs, too; you're a great rude man, so you are." "Broke your side-comb, did I?
Well, then, you couldn't be in better hands, darlin', here's a pair I make you a present of, and maybe they won't set you all off to pieces; here, darlin', wear these for my sake." "But are you making me a present of these beauties, Cannie ?" "Troth an' I am, Lilly darlin', and wish they were betther for your sake--what's that I said?
a present! oh the sorrow bit, I must have my payment--aisy now, darlin', my own sweet Lilly; there now, we're clear." "Upon my word, Mr.Magrath, I don't know what to say to you, but you're such a great strong fellow, that a poor weak girl like me is but a child in your arms; are these real tortoise-shell though ?" "You may swear it; do you think I'd offer you anything else?
But now listen, my darlin' girl, take this shawl, it's 'worth five-and-twenty guineas at least, troth, poor thing! it wasn't since their marriage it was bought; take it, I say, and go up widout sayin' a word, and lay it just where it was before, and if she seems surprised on findin' it there, tell her you suppose I forgot it, or if she won't believe you, and that all fails you, say that the _Cannie Soogah_, although she knows nothing about him, is a man that's undher great obligations to her family, and that he only tuck that method of payin' back a debt to her that he honestly owed to them, for, afther all, isn't she one of them ?" Lilly shook her head, and her eyes filled with tears, at the manly and modest generosity of the pedlar.
"Little you know then, Mr.Magrath, the load you have taken off my dear mistress's heart, and the delight you have brought upon the whole family." "Well, Lilly dear, sure if I did, amn't I well paid, for it?
thanks to your two sweet lips for that.

Sure, bad cess to me, but it was on your account I did it." A vile grin, or rather an awkward blank smile, forced by an affectation of gallantry, accompanied the lie which he uttered.
"Oh, yes, indeed," replied Lilly, "on my 'account, don't think to pass that upon me; however, I can forgive you a great many things in consequence of your behavior--just now." "And yet you abused me for it," he replied, laughing, "but sure I knew that a purty girl always likes to be kissed; bad cess to me, but the same behavior comes naturally to me." "Go now," said Lilly, with a comic and peremptory manner; "go your rounds, I say; you know very well that I mane your behavior about the shawl, and not your great strong impudence." The pedlar, after winking and nodding meanings into her words that she had never thought of, slung his pack over his shoulder as usual, and proceeded on his rounds.
We have always been of opinion that there is scarcely anything more mysterious than the speed with which popular report travels apparently with very inadequate machinery throughout a large district of country.
Before the day was more than half-advanced, fame had succeeded in circulating a report that Matthew Purcel and Dr.Turbot had been both shot dead in the garden of the rectory.

This report spread rapidly, and it is with equal pain and shame we are obliged to confess that in general it was received with evident and undisguised satisfaction.

John and Alick Purcel, on their way home, were accosted at a place called "Murderer's Corner," by two of the men who had attended at their father's office that morning, and informed that he and Dr.Turbot had been murdered in the course of the day, a piece of information which was conveyed by them with a sneer of cowardly triumph that was perfectly diabolical.
"God save ye, gintlemen!" said one of them, with a peculiar emphasis on the last word; "did ye here the news ?" "No, Jemmy, what is it ?" asked John.
"Why, that Darby Hourigan is very ill," he replied, with mock gravity.
"No thanks for your information, Jemmy," replied the other; "if you told us something of more interest we might thank you." "Never mind him, gintlemen," replied his companion, "there's nothing wrong wid Darby Horaigan, barrin' that he occasionally rubs himself where he's not itching, but there's worse news than that before you." "What is it, then ?" asked Alick; "if you know it, let us hear it, and don't stand humming and hawing as if you were afraid to speak." "Faith, an' it's no wondher I would, sir, when it's to tell you that you'll find your father a murdhered corpse at home before you." "Great God! what do you mean, sir?
asked John.
"Why, gintlemen, it seems that himself an' Parson Turbot wor both shot in the parsonage garden to-day.