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While he was thus engaged Red Rooney did not speak, but sat looking at his new friend with profound interest.

It helped me much a few years ago when I visited many Southern battle-fields that I could tell old Confederates "Rooney" Lee and I had in our youth been college mates. My classmate J.B. Clark of Mississippi was a graceful magnetic fellow who had small basis of scholarship, perhaps, but a marked power for effective utterance.

He had to do it all by feelin', nevertheless, they say, he made a splendid job of it, the bed of clay and puddle, at the bottom, bein' smoothed as flat a'most as a billiard table, besides fixin' sixteen iron-plates for the gas-holder to rest on. "Ah, he's a cute feller is David," observed Rooney, reflectively, as he watched a ring of smoke that rose from his pipe towards the ceiling.

He was consequently a favorite not only with the master, but with all the sober, well-behaved boys of the school, and many a time has Teague Rooney, with whom he was educated, exclaimed, as he addressed him: "Go to your sate, Frank abouchal; faith, although there are boys endowed wid more brilliancy of intellect than has fallen to your lot, yet you are the very youth who understands what is due to legitimate authority, at any rate, an' that's no small gift in itself; go to your sate, sorrow taw will go to your substratum this bout, for not having your lesson; for well I know it wasn't idleness that prevented you, but the natural sobriety and slowness of intellect you are gifted wid.

Sobs of pent feeling and sighs of relief were heard as the bridal party moved away, and when the newmade wife and husband reached the portal the bell was silent and the sun was shining. In the days when most of New York stood below Grand Street, a roistering fellow used to make the rounds of the taverns nightly, accompanied by a friend named Rooney.

"Aye, aye, cap'en, I remember your saying so quite well." Mr Mackay couldn't stand this, and he walked down the poop ladder to conceal his amusement; and I followed him when I found him bent on consulting Tim Rooney as to what was to be done, the captain being hopeless at present. "Be jabers, we're in a pritty kittle av fish an' no mistake!" said Tim when asked his opinion about the situation.

When the Widow Rooney was forcibly ejected from the house of Mrs. James Casey, and found that Andy was not the possessor of that lady's charms, she posted off to Neck-or-Nothing Hall, to hear the full and true account of the transaction from Andy himself.

In this dilemma he remained for a short time, occasionally managing to clear himself partially, and at other times becoming more and more involved. At last Rooney Machowl, who was attending to the lines above, bethought him that he had not received any signals for some time or observed any of those motions which usually indicate that a diver is busy below. He therefore gave a pull to the lifeline.

"Arrah! there's a crowd of them coming after," panted Rooney. "Ave Mary! I've heard that if you die with witch broth being thrown over you, you're done for in the next world, as well as this. Let us get to Father Donagan's. Wow!"

"All right, sorr, I'm agreeayble, as the man aid whin he wor agoin' to be hung," said Tim Rooney grinning, never taking anything serious for very long; "faix I'll go up mesilf if I can't get none av the hands to volunteer. I couldn't order 'em yet, sorr, for it's more'n a man's loife is worth to get on a yard with this wind." "Very good, Rooney, do your best," replied Mr Mackay.