"
Hycy took his seat in the parlor, and began to give a stave of the "Bay
of Biscay:"--
"'Loud roar'd the dreadful thunder,
The rain a deluge pours;
The clouds were rent asunder
By light'ning's vivid--'
By the way, mother, what are those robbing ruffians, the Hogans, doing
at the kitchen door there?"
"Troth, whatever they like," she replied. "I tould that vagabond,
Philip, that I had nothing for them to do, an' says he, 'I'm the best
judge of that, Rosha Burke.' An, with that he walks into the kitchen,
an' takes everything that he seen a flaw in, an' there he and them sat
a mendin' an' sotherin' an' hammerin' away at them, without ever sayin'
'by your lave.'"
"It's perfectly well known that they're robbers," said Hycy, "and the
general opinion is that they're in connection with a Dublin gang, who
are in this part of the country at present. However, I'll speak to the
ruffians about such conduct."
He then left the parlor, and proceeding to the farmyard, made a signal
to one of the Hogans, who went down hammer in hand to where he stood.
During a period of ten minutes, he and Hycy remained in conversation,
but of what character it was, whether friendly or otherwise, the
distance at which they stood rendered it impossible for any one to
ascertain. Hycy then returned to dinner, whilst his father in the
meantime sat smoking his pipe, and sipping from time to time at his
tumbler of punch.
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