Good morning to ye.' So the Scotch giant ran out of the
house, and never stopped to eat or drink until he got back to his own
hills, foreby he was nearly drowned in having mistaken his passage
across the Channel in his great hurry. Then Fingal got up and laughed,
as well he might, at his own 'cuteness; and so ends my story about
Fingal. And now I'll begin about myself. As I said before, I am
descended from the great O'Brien, who was a king in his time, but that
time's past. I suppose, as the world turns round, my children's
children's posterity may be kings again, although there seems but little
chance of it just now; but there's ups and downs on a grand scale, as
well as in a man's own history, and the wheel of fortune keeps turning
for the comfort of those who are at the lowest spoke, as I may be just
now. To cut the story a little shorter, I skip down to my
great-grandfather, who lived like a real gentleman, as he was, upon his
ten thousand a year. At last he died, and eight thousand of the ten was
buried with him. My grandfather followed his father all in good course
of time, and only left my father about one hundred acres of bog, to keep
up the dignity of the family. I am the youngest of ten, and devil a
copper have I but my pay, or am I likely to have. You may talk about
_descent_, but a more _descending_ family than mine was never in
existence, for here am I with twenty-five pounds a-year, and a half-pay
of 'nothing a day, and find myself,' when my great ancestor did just
what he pleased with all Ireland, and everybody in it.
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