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You have wealth
yourselves, and you can make Brine and her comfortable if you wish.
She is your only child"--("Blessed Father, think of him knowin'
this!")--"and as you are well to do in the world, it's both a sin and a
scandal for you to urge a pretty young girl of nineteen to marry an
old miserly runt of fifty. You know now how to lay the ghost, Mrs.
Houlaghan--and that is what I can do for you; but if you do not marry
her to Brine Oge, as I said, another ghost will certainly contrive to
haunt you. You may now withdraw."
A farmer, with a very shrewd and comic expression of countenance, next
made his appearance, and taking his hat off and laying it on the floor
with his staff across it, took his seat, as he had been motioned to do,
upon the chair which Mrs. Houlaghan had just vacated.
"Well, my friend," said the conjurer, "what's troubling you?"
"A crock o' butther, your honor."
"How is that? explain yourself."
"Why, sir, a crock o' butther that was stolen from me; and I'm tould for
a sartinty that you can discover the thief o' the world that stole it.


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