Mark Cock! 31 



But you will ask what this has to do with long bills ? WeU, perhaps Mrs. 

 R.'s were not very short ones, as I remember; but wait a bit. Ross had 

 created his most sublime effects in "Sam Hall," one night, and every one's 

 blood been made to run so cold that many glasses of stimulating liquid had 

 been found requisite. There were several Irish M.P.'s present — quite a 

 division of them — and amongst them The O'Callaghan. I cottoned to The 

 O'C, and asked him, with two or three more, to come down and dine with 

 me at my little place on the Thames, where I had symposiums in those days. 

 They did so. The day was great, but the night was tremendous, enormous, 

 as Planche's neat parody, " The days that we got tipsy in," had it, 



And no man rose to go till lie was sure he couldn't stand. 



But ere it came to that the wit, the fun, the chaff, the stories, the songs, the 

 omnitim gatherum, was something one never sees nowadays. It's gone — 

 it's gone ! I've seen a goodish evening or two at the old Albion, with poor 

 Andrew Halliday, John Oxenford, 0. Kenny, Potts Willips,* and a few 

 more, that were not to be sneezed at ; but even that is all gone now. "We 

 had been prattKng sporting, and The O'C. made some talk of his woodcock 

 shooting in Mayo. 



"It's the foinest spoort, me bhoy ; ye never seen the like of 't. D'ye 

 mind comin' so fur now for a few days next sayson ? If ye'll come, faith ye 

 shall have the run of the barony." 



The O'C. was well on, and I said yes, of course I'd come — thinking that 

 he'd never remember a word of it in the morning. I never was more 

 deceived. He said no more about it then, but next November I got a note 

 from him, saying that he was going across, and as soon as the cocks were in 

 he'd drop me a Hne, and I was to start on the instant. 



Now, I don't mind owning that I was a seasoned vessel in those days, 

 and never met the man who could put me under the table. Still, a week 

 with The O'C. was not altogether a trifle when he was bent upon hospitality. 



* The familiar name by which my old acquaintance Watts Phillips was known among his 

 friends. Watts illustrated for me the first book I ever brought out. That amazing production 

 called " Pickackif ax." He was the best " all round " man I ever met ; and as artist, carica- 

 turist, author, dramatist, racconteur, and conversationalist, he was hard to beat. 



