anxious to hear all I can of the mountain, for it has taken my fancy strangely."
The old man took the glass of punch, which Mrs. Kelligan handed him as the necessary condition antecedent to a story, and began:—
"Oh, sorra one of me knows anythin' except what I've heerd from me father. But I oft heerd him say that he was tould, that it was said, that in the Frinch invasion that didn't come off undher Gineral Humbert, whin the attimpt was over an' all hope was gone, the English sodgers made sure of great prize-money whin they should git hould of the threasure chist. For it was known that there was much money goin' an' that they had brought a lot more than iver they wanted for pay and expinses in ordher to help to bribe some of the people that was houldin' off to be bought by wan side or the other—if they couldn't manage to git bought be both. But sure enough they wor all sould, bad cess to thim! and the divil a bit of money could they lay their hands on at all."
Here the old man took a pull at his jug of punch, with so transparent a wish to be further interrogated that a smile flashed round the company. One of the old crones remarked, in an audible sotto voce:—
"Musha! But Bat is the cute story-teller intirely. Ye have to dhrag it out iv him! Go on, Bat! Go on! Tell us what become iv the money."
"Oh, what become iv the money? So ye would like to hear! Well, I'll tell ye.—Just one more fill of the
