In this district, then, and in such a period of calamity, and misery, and utter famine, did the movement called the New Reformation originate.
"Sure, blood alive," thought Darby, "now that every one's turnin', there's no harm to have a thrial at it myself; I can become as good a Prodestan as most o' them in four and twenty hours, and stand a chance of the Jaolership for my pains.

I'll go to Mr.Lucre, who is a gentleman at any rate, and allow him to think he has the convartin' o' me.

Well," he proceeded, with a chuckle, "it's one comfort, divil a much religion I have to lose; and another, that the divil a much I have to gain in exchange; and now," he went on, "there's little Solomon thinks I did'nt see him burnin' the wrong letther; but faith, Solomon, my lad, there must be something in it that would do neither you nor M'Clutchy much good, if it was known, or you wouldn't thry that trick--but, in the mean time, I've secured them both." Now, the reader must know, that Darby's return in such a truly charitable spirit to ask Solomon for the virtue of his prayers in behalf of M'Clutchy, was as knavish a ruse as ever was put in practice.

Solomon had placed M'Clutchy's letter secretly under a brief, as we have said, and Darby, who knew the identical spot and position in which M'Slime was in the habit of praying, knew also that he would kneel with his back to the desk on which the brief lay.

It all happened precisely as he wished, and, accordingly, while Solomon was doing the hypocrite, Darby did the thief, and having let in those who were approaching, he came away, as we said.
He lost not a moment after he had got to a lonely part of the road, in putting them between two flat stones--we mean M'Clutchy's letter to Solomon, with that gentleman's answer.