That, said Professor Denis Donoghue, is what in Ireland is called 'cleverality.' We had been talking of a contemporary American poet whom I admired for ironic and dazzling wit.

With a beller of wrath, I jerked my arm away from him and hung a clout on his proboscis that knocked him headfirst through the ropes.

Look, Jim, how my fingers fidget, he continued, in the pleading tone. I can't keep e'm still, not I.

After the holy-stone, comes the squill-gee; a wooden instrument like a hoe, but with a face, broad and flat, and lined with leather: the decks are partly dried with it; and the operation is completed by the swabs, articles formed by tying a number of loose yarns together, now dashed, by their handles, with violence about the deck.