LIFE IN IRELAND 25 



Majesty, and even making Major Sirr blush for him, a 

 thing the Major was never guilty of doing for himself 

 in his life. 



This is the daily picture of Life in Dublin^ enjoyed 

 by many young noblemen. Too proud to be useful, 

 and too indolent for enterprize, they dwindle on from 

 day to day less and less, till they finally drop into 

 contempt and oblivion. The second son, of course, 

 became a parson, the third an excise collector, and 

 the fourth an ensign in his father's regiment of 

 Militia. 



He did not think as some have thought 



Whom honour never crown'd, 

 The fame a father dearly bought 



Could make the son renown'd. 



And oft he thought that if that sire 



No gallant deeds had done, 

 To wipe that stain became the fire 



That burnt within the son. 



Ensign Grammachree served the whole rebellion 

 with eclat; he got wounded at Vinegar Hill, ^d?/ away 

 from the barn of Scullabogue just before it was burnt, 

 got off the Bridge of Wexford on his legs just before his 

 friends were flung off it on their heads, and at the battle 

 of Ross^^if into the good graces of General Johnson 

 for the cool and able manner in which he defended the 

 Three Bullet Gate against ten times his number; this 

 procured him a lieutenancy in the line, and after serving 

 five years on the continent, and serving out the enemy 

 with gallantry in every engagement, a shell at Leipsic 

 fractured his skull, and he left a leg behind him at 

 Waterloo. The commander-in-chief, whose name is 



