I have scarcely any one to abuse me, or to abuse, either, now that the ould masther is so feeble." Jemmy extended his hand as he spoke, and gave the pedlar a squeeze, the cordiality of which was strongly at variance with the abuse he had given him.
"God bless you!" said the pedlar, returning the pressure; "your bark is worse than your bite.

I'm off now, to mention the reception they gave me and the answers I got, to a man that will, maybe, bring themselves to their marrow-bones afore long." "Ay, but don't abuse them, for all that," replied Jemmy, "for I won't bear it." "Throth," returned the other, "you're a quare Jemmy--an' so God bless you!" Having uttered these words, in an amicable and grateful spirit, our friend the pedlar bent his steps to the head inn of the next town--being that of the assizes, where Mr.Travers, the agent, kept his office..