Mrs. Burke, herself, occupied an arm-chair to the
left of the fire, engaged at a stocking which was one of a pair that she
contrived to knit for her husband during every twelve months; and on
the score of which she pleaded strong claims to a character of most
exemplary and indefatigable industry.
"Any news from the market, Hycy?" said his father.
"Yes," replied Hycy, in that dry ironical tone which he always used to
his parents--"rather interesting--Ballymacan is in the old place."
"Bekaise," replied his father, with more quickness than might be
expected, as he whiffed away the smoke with a face of very sarcastic
humor; "I hard it had gone up a bit towards the mountains--but I knew
you wor the boy could tell me whether it had or not--ha!--ha!--ha!"
This rejoinder, in addition to the intelligence Hycy had just received
from his mother, was not calculated to improve his temper. "You may
laugh," he replied; "but if your respectable father had treated you in a
spirit so stingy and beggarly as that which I experience at your hands,
I don't know how you might have borne it."
"My father!" replied Burke; "take your time, Hycy--my hand to you, he
had a different son to manage from what I have."
"God sees that's truth," exclaimed his wife, turning the expression to
her son's account.
"I was no gentleman, Hycy," Burke proceeded.
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