He observed that the interest was created by an advertisement of several farms on the Clonbrony estate, to be set by Nicholas Garraghty, Esq.

He could not help smiling at his being witness incognito to various schemes for outwitting the agents and defrauding the landlord; but, on a sudden, the scene was changed; a boy ran in, crying out, that 'St.Dennis was riding down the hill into the town; and, if you would not have the license,' said the boy, 'take care of yourself.' 'IF YOU WOULDN'T HAVE THE LICENCE,' Lord Colambre perceived, by what followed, meant, 'IF YOU HAVE NOT A LICENCE.' Brannagan immediately snatched an untasted glass of whisky from a customer's lips (who cried, Murder!) gave it and the bottle he held in his hand to his wife, who swallowed the spirits, and ran away with the bottle and glass into some back hole; whilst the bystanders laughed, saying, 'Well thought of, Peggy!' 'Clear out all of you at the back door, for the love of heaven, if you wouldn't be the ruin of me,' said the man of the house, setting a ladder to a corner of the shop.

'Phil, hoist me up the keg to the loft,' added he, running up the ladder; 'and one of YEES step up street, and give Rose M'Givney notice, for she's selling too.' The keg was hoisted up; the ladder removed; the shop cleared of all the customers; the shutters shut; the door barred; the counter cleaned.
'Lift your stones, sir, if you plase,' said the wife, as she rubbed the counter, 'and say nothing of what you SEEN at all; but that you're a stranger and a traveller seeking a lodging, if you're questioned, or waiting to see Mr.Dennis.

There's no smell of whisky in it now, is there, sir ?' Lord Colambre could not flatter her so far as to say this--he could only hope no one would perceive it.
'Oh, and if he would, the smell of whisky was nothing,' as the wife affirmed, 'for it was everywhere in nature, and no proof again' any one, good or bad.' 'Now St.Dennis may come when he will, or old Nick himself!' So she tied up a blue handkerchief over her head, and had the toothache, 'very bad.' Lord Colambre turned to look for the man of the house.
'He's safe in bed,' said the wife.
'In bed! When ?' 'Whilst you turned your head, while I was tying the handkerchief over my face.

Within the room, look, he is snug.' And there he was in bed certainly, and his clothes on the chest.
A knock, a loud knock at the door.
'St.Dennis himself!--Stay, till I unbar the door,' said the woman; and, making a great difficulty, she let him in, groaning, and saying-- 'We was all done up for the night, PLASE your honour, and myself with the toothache, very bad--And the lodger, that's going to take an egg only, before he'd go into his bed.