57 lines 9 and 10, for into, read to, and for to read into.

91 line 11, for hustling, read bustling.

120 16, for whom read when.

225 lines 19 and 20, supply a comma after extinguished, and dele the

period after out, and supply a comma.

232 line 9, for then read them.

THE CROPPY;

A TALE OF 1798.

CHAPTER I.

IN the confidential apartment of the rustic tavern, the Quaker, his broad-brimmed hat doffed, was already seated at a deal-table. All our purposes are served by remarking, that five out of the six seemed of the class of Irish gentlemen farmers; were respectably attired in topboots, and in cloth of good texture, soberly varied in hue, according to the taste of each wearer; and had impressed upon them the look and air of good living, of easy circumstances, and of long intercourse in a rank of life aptly termed decent, and sometimes genteel, according to the relative rank of the individuals who make the comment.

These five conspirators are doomed to pass away from our view as soon as the chapter closes; but with the sixth, exclusive of the Quaker, we shall have some continued encounters; and he is, therefore, entitled to more particular notice.

Indeed, even his remarkable contrast with his companions might of itself require our description. He was a very little man, not more than four feet six inches in height; with, upon his head, a curious species of full-bottomed wig, deriving its name from a great truss of goat'shair, frizzed out, with much care and labour, into a round, hard mass, that rested upon the coat-collar; and, in turn, allowed to rest upon it, at four inches from its under-edge, the hat of its wearer. His coat was good broad-cloth, of that colour termed "pepper-and salt,” singlebreasted, with a gradually-sloping cut backwards from the breast, and terminating in long, heavy skirts, showing mitred pocket-flaps, that reached (nor difficultly, had they been shorter) to the middle of his legs; and this coat was emblazoned with real silver-buttons, each the size of half-a-crown, having engraved upon them the initials "P. R." for Peter Rooney; and for the last thirty years they had adorned in succession

all his Sunday coats. His waistcoat was red, curiously wrought with elaborate silk flourishes along the front-edges, and around the pockets, and the borders of the ample flaps. A thickset small-clothes, so made as (pretty well) to keep its place without the new-fangled aid of braces, had mother-of-pearl buttons at the knees, was tightly-clasped round his hams with silverbuckles, and showed to perfection, through his blay-thread hose, a well turned though tiny leg; yet retaining, after fifty years' service, its muscular plumpness.

Peter Rooney, naturally grave, had a sagacious and self-respecting look; not that owlish cast of countenance that, as Bacon says, would

6

seem wise,' but one that, although sedate, and often proud, bespoke reflection and intelligence, creditable to his state in life and opportunities for acquirement.

The person who had parted from Sir Thomas Hartley entered: all stood up; and their salutes and manner evidently acknowledged a superior; yet he shook hands all round, carelessly or naturally, it might be deemed by a looker-on; but under the accost of good-fellowship was secretly interchanged with each, the same signal of intelligence, and of political recognition, which

Rattling Bill, had proffered to the seeming Quaker; and it was that individual who, having laid aside his green patch, first addressed the meeting; upon which occasion, both his eyes appeared equally keen and speculative, and his accent, too, sounded more distinctly northern. than when he had modified it by the over-done smoothness of the Quaker's phrase and intonation "This, my good friends! is the gentleman without a name; to meet whom I empowered Peter Rooney to summon you together."

:

"And I come amongst you, gentlemen, dispatched by those higher in trust than I am,—of whose names I know and ask to know as little as you do of mine,-to ascertain, from respectable and sensible persons, the progress the cause has made since the last hints, or orders, in your neighbourhood. All of you, gentlemen, have been sworn in, in Dublin ?"

"All, Sir, at different times," answered one of the gentlemen-farmers, "by the Committee at 72, Stephen's-Green, of whom Mr. Mac Nevitt was one, when business took us up to town."

The ex-Quaker nodded assent.

"We understand each other then," resumed