there have druv me away, bad luck to them,
like a thief or a beggar; and now I'll be clane
ruined, your ladyship, I will, and all along of
the hard-hearted bailiff, and the fine gintlemen
here, that won't let me spake to the Duke's
highness, your ladyship. Och hone! Och
hone!"

"Who art thou, friend, if thou art not a
beggar?" asked Mrs. Arrowman, in great
amazement.

"A beggar is it ye take me for, your ladyship?
Och! by all the blessed powers, an'
'tis nobody else but Dennis Macarthy, an ould
tenant of the Duke's highness, come all the
way from Ireland, to tell him his wrongs."

"Tenant!" said Mrs. Arrowman, "what
sort of a tenant mayst thou be, friend?"

"A farmer, an' it plase yer ladyship,—a
farmer, from the county o' Waterford, where
my father, and father's father, before me, were
tenants on the Duke's lands."

Mrs. Arrowman's astonishment was greater
than ever. At this declaration and spectacle,
all her ideas of farmers received a strange
shock. Mrs. Arrowman, however, with the
self-possession and prudence of her sect,
suppressed her own emotions, and carefully
listened to the man's story, which was of a kind
which, when concluded, induced her to tell
the man to resume his seat on the stone, and
await her return, without approaching nearer
to the house.

The Irishman, overwhelming her with bows
and blessings, promised to obey; but still kept
on his feet, and continued his benedictions
and his bows, so long as she was in sight. By
the time that she lost sight of him, she was
again on the open space before the palace, and
advancing at an active pace towards it, having
ordered her man to remain with the Irishman
till her return. On ringing at the gate, she
was once more admitted, and soon after, a
gay, powdered valet, was seen hastily crossing
the lawn, who in a few minutes returned,
followed by the wild Irishman, who was
uttering blessings and praises on the head of the
servant, who stalked forward, little attending
to them. However, the Irishman was soon
within the desired precincts of the ducal
dwelling; and in the presence of the Duke
himself, with Mrs. Arrowman.

It appeared, from Dennis's story, that
the Duke's steward in that part of Ireland
had given Dennis notice to quit at the
ensuing Michaelmas. Dennis had, in vain,
exerted all his eloquence to prevail upon the
steward to allow him to remain. He had
reminded him that the family had, for
generations, lived on the land; which was but
some thirty acres Irish, and that he was
only a year and a half in arrears, which his
sanguine temperament made him believe he
could soon muster, if God Almighty sent
good harvests. The steward was inexorable;
and poor Dennis soon found that he had
promised his farm to a friend of his own.
He represented the steward as having done
numerous acts of the like arbitrary nature,
and implored the Duke to send over some one
to see how matters really stood.

The Duke smiled as he represented to
Dennis Macarthy that, by his own account,
he was a year and a half behind in his rent;
and, turning to Mrs. Arrowman, observed
that a year and a half was a long arrear.

"Yes, Duke of Anyshire," said Mrs.
Arrowman, "it would be thought so in this
country."

"And, by God's mercy, your ladyship says
thruth," interposed Dennis eagerly; "in this
country it would be thought, may be, a length
o' time—in this country, where all are so rich,
and farmers are like dukes and squires
themselves; but, in poor ould Ireland, his Grace's
highness knows well enough it is different.
And, what is a year and a half; and my
father, and his father, and all our fathers
before us, been on the farm? And, if the
taties only are good, and the parson is not
too severe with the tithes, and the Lord keeps
the sickness away from the cabin—och! why
it's nothing at all, at all, and I'll pay it all off
in two years, and know nothing about it,
entirely."

"It is much easier for an Irish tenant to
promise than to pay," said the Duke.

"By the powers, and your Grace's highness
spakes the thruth, too," exclaimed
Dennis; "but if all is not paid clane off in the
two years, why, then I'll make no complaints
if your highness turns me off."

"What do you think, Mrs. Arrowman?"
asked the Duke, "would you try him?"

"O! and if it be her ladyship," said
Dennis, "that's to decide, then I'm sure she
will say, 'Try him, by all manes;' God bless
her ladyship's goodness. Hoo!" and here
the Irishman, giving a wild sort of whoop,
and leaping and twirling his stick, forgetful
of the presence in which he was, began to
bless and praise both the Duke and Mrs.
Arrowman, in a torrent of spluttering exultation.

"Stop, friend!" said Mrs. Arrowman,
quietly. "I have not yet said anything in thy
favour. To look at thee, I fear thy poverty
is much greater than thy prudence; and I
would not have the Duke decide on my
recommendation, in what concerns his own
interests."

The Irishman's countenance fell; and the
Duke said, "Then, Mrs. Arrowman, you would
not have me try him ?"

"Nay, I don't say that," replied Mrs.
Arrowman; "but, Duke, I would not have
thee trust too much to the man's promises,
because he seems so very vehement in his
feelings, and his poverty may cloud his
judgment; but, if thou art inclined to try him,
out of kindness, I should be glad; for I think
he must be very much in earnest, or he would
not have come all this way for the purpose
of asking it. And, besides, it may be desirable
to know what sort of a man the steward, of