1829-3 I rink Priests in Particular. 511 



sitting at his door, all alone, drinking a tumbler of the best Innishowen. 

 — ' Many happy days to your honour !' says the humble hod-man ; ' and 

 I'm glad to see your reverence looking so well this blessed evening.' — ' I 

 think I know you, Pat,' says St. Peter ; ' you're the humble Catholic 

 hod-man.' — ' Divil a word of lie in it !' says the humble hod-man. — ' It's 

 yourself that's welcome,' says St. Peter ; and with that he shook hands 

 with him, and was as glad to see him as if he was his own brother. — 

 ' It's a good step from your place to this, Paddy,' says St. Peter ; ' and 

 as you're tired a bit, just sit down and take a snifter with me before you 

 go in.' — ' It's a kind word you say to me,' says the other ; and he sat 

 down, and they both drank all the Innishowen that was in the bottle. — 

 ' There's more where that comes from, Paddy,' says St. Peter. — ' It's 

 too many your honour is for me,' says the humble hpd-man ; ' I'm 

 afeard it '11 get into my head, as I'm not to say very strong yet, and I 

 wouldn't like to have the sign of liquor upon me whon I go into the 

 new place ; so, if your reverence pleases, I'd like just to go in and rest 

 myself.' Upon the word, the gates opened like a clap of thunder ; and 

 the humble Catholic hod-man walked in, St. Peter bowing and houlding 

 a light to him all the time. — Now, boys, which is the true church ?" 



F. H. 



MAAMSELLE ST. MAUR ! 



" Pray, my dear," to my partner, at Margate, I said. 



As we paused to take breath from a hot gallopade, 



" Of what name shall I dream when I dream of delight ? 



Shall Charlotte, or Jane, be the queen of the night .''" 



" O Heavens, those are English .' No ! mort de ma vie ! 



I'd have you to know. Sir, my name's Stephanie !" 



" And what next, my young beauty .''" She gave me a glance. 



That shewed me she lately had travelled in France — 



That look which at Paris one learns in a week: 



" What next ? why, my name's Isabinde Angelique." 



" Both pretty; but, love, if I don't make too free. 



Are these all .''" — " No, besides, I'm St. Ange, Eugenie." 



" Ah, exquisite sounds ! and just fitted for love. 



In a box or a ball-room, a boudoir or grove ; 



But, sweet, sure you can't be contented with these ?" 



" No, besides, I'm Constance, Anatole, Athanese." 



" All fit for those lips and those glances of fire !— 



Any more?" — " Yes; Agnese, Dorlice, Dejanire !" 



" And where, my dear girl, did such superfine names 



In England find birth, to set mankind in flames .-'" 



" The first was a gift from a gallant friseur, 



"Who had come from Boulogne, and was then ' on a tour ;' 



The next was picked up in a livi-e de paste ; 



The third at Quillac's, from the Jille of the host ; 



The fourth I made prize in Lafitte's heavy coach ; 



'I'he fifth I o'erheard dans I'Eglise de St. Roch ; 



The sixth I purloined from a milliner's shop ; 



The last at a guinguette — en Anglais, a hop ! 



Thus supplied with a cargo of heroine names, 



I returned, toute chnrmnnte, to set fire to the 'Thames." 



" But is there no other, delight of my soul ! 



A name of enchantment, to finish tlie whole ?" 



" Yes — one ; and you'll own I have chosen a non-such — 



Tlic most dic-aw€ay, (k'S|)crale — Ah, <jare qui la tourlie .'" — 



" Some famou? old name of birtii, beauty, or war?" — 



" No, you fool ! 'twas my lauiKhoss — Maamsulle St. Mack!" 



