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him bank notes for one hundred pounds, which were to be paid as a fine.
Having taken up his quarters at an inn, he requested the landlord to take care of his money for him, as he wished to go and look about the city, and to treat himself to the theatre that evening. Mine host readily undertook the precious charge; but when, next morning, the farmer had spruced himself up to attend the landlord's levee, what was his astonishment, on asking for his money, to hear the villainous landlord deny any knowledge of him, or his hundred pounds!
"By the holy!" said he, "you gave me no money; and, by the powers! no money shall you have back."
Sure, and it's not in arnest ye are, masthur!" said the countryman, turning pale at the prospect of losing his treasure; then recovering himself, he continued, with a smile, expressive of fear and doubt, "Bad luck to your jokes at this present writing-make haste, man, and give me the notes, else I'll be late, and I won't have my lase signed at all."
"I know nothing of you or your lase," replied
Oh, murdher!" exclaimed the farmer, "does my eyesight desaive me, to hear the swindling tief going for to deny that I gave him the money, and that, too, unknownst to any one, for the entire safety?"
"It's yourself that's the swindler, to come for to ax me for money that I never seen," retorted mine host." But Dublin's not the plaice for ye to come and play yer thricks in; and ye'll find we're not to be caught so aisy: so take yourself off, ye robber, or, by the holy! I'll send for the police this blessed minute, and swear a highwayrobbery against ye, and have ye put into Newgate, and hanged for that same."
The poor countryman, transfixed with astonishment and horror, was for some time unable to reply, but continued to regard his plunderer with a vacant stare, and open-mouth :- -at length he found words, and exclaimed, “The holy Jasus keep me from all mortal sin! Ounly hear to the false tory robber. But I'll have justice of ye, ye murdering tief of the world, if there's law, or
justice, or judge, or jury, to be had in Dublin cety."
Having uttered this threat, he pressed his hat down violently over his forehead, and, clenching his hands in agony, rushed out into the street, the very picture of despair. After walking on for some time, the poor fellow bethought him of making his complaint to one of the judges at the Four Courts, the magnificent structure of which he had admired during his peregrination the day before, and where he had learned that the sages of the law sat daily, for the administration of justice.
Although his topographical knowledge of the city was very slender, he soon recognized the famous spot, and boldly entered the hall, where he soon mixed with the throng of attornies, clients, witnesses, and barristers, that paraded up and down; but, seeing no one who was likely to give him either advice or assistance, he was about entering one of the Courts, which was also greatly crowded, when an officer told him, in an authoritative tone, to stand back. The farmer expostulated, but in vain ; for the man in office, learning that he had no business with the cause which was
pending, peremptorily refused to let him pass:seeing an unusual eagerness and anxiety, however, in the countryman's countenance, he inquired the nature of his business; to which the latter replied, "I wish, Sur, to spake to the judge about a murdering robbery that "
"Pooh! pooh!" replied the officer, "you must not come here about murders and robberies,why don't you go to a magistrate?"
The countryman responded, with a deep sigh, "Sure, it's myself that's a stranger in Dublin, and I don't know the ways of it.-Oh, what will I do this blessed day!-I won't get my lase signed at all; and I must not show my face at Callagher without it. I'll be turned out of house and home" (here the poor fellow shed tears); " and poor Norah, and the dear childer, will be obliged to take bag, and go out. The holy vargin, and the blessed saints, give them their protection!But," clenching his hands, "it's no use bodhering about judges or magistrates:-I'll go back this instant, and tear the Orange tief's heart out of his body; it's no more nor he desarves; and, if
I'm hanged for the murder, sure it's better than to be robbed entirely."
The officer's curiosity was excited by the violence of the poor man's emotions; and he inquired who it was that had robbed him.
The farmer replied, “Him, sure, as keeps the carman's inn, down there, in the place they calls Stoneybatter."
Officer. inns: what is his name?"
Farmer." His name, Sur, is Rooney:-I don't know his Christhun name;-but that's what's painted on the sign of the house."
Officer." What, Nick Rooney, that keeps the King William o' Horseback!' - By jakers! my good fellow, you are fallen into d-d bad hands. Only come across Old Nick, and he'll play the divil with ye. Nick Rooney is the worst villain, and the biggest blackguard, in all Dublin city; and that's saying a great dale any how. What has he robbed you of?"
Farmer." One hundred pound;-bad luck to the villain!"
But there are several carmen's