LIFE IN IRELAND 43 



Night had now spread her ebon wings over dear 

 Dublin, and a beautiful moon made every thing clear 

 as day. It was settled not to leave the Captain to 

 iravegeer alone, and the horses were ordered to go 

 empty to Merion Square. ' Will you take my horse to 

 Dublin?' asked Sir Shawn of a rap in the employ of 

 the police. 'Will he take me to Dublin, your honour? 

 for by reason I won't lead when I can drive, or walk 

 when I can ride,' was the reply ; 'twas sufficient. 



Some deliberation took place whether a noddy or a 

 jingle should be employed, which was soon settled by 

 a lieurenant of the horse police, who ordered the party 

 either to get into a jingle then in the way, or get out of 

 the way themselves ; the latter they could not well do 

 without passing under the wheels of a certain vehicle 

 called * level ways,' an operation supposed to be un- 

 pleasant as most people die under the experiment. 

 ' Needs must when the Devil drives ! ' said Sir Shawn. 

 ' Bedershin ! ' grumbled Brian. ' Mighty well ! ' echoed 

 the Captain, and up the iron fender they blundered, 

 and were soon fixed in the hog-tub. ' Won't you give 

 me a drag^ Dogherty?' cried a fine girl in a riding 

 habit ; ' Sally is off, and left me to pad on my ten 



sera f Cher s ! ' ' If I don't I '11 be d d ! ' was followed 



by a spring from the crazy vehicle, which Sir Shawn 

 ascended with Poll Kettlewell in his arms. 'Shall I 

 dal?^ your honour?' asked the driver, and laid a stick 

 as long and as strong as half a flail over the flank of 

 an old bay garren, a perfect Rosinante, and away he 

 hobbled betwixt a trot and a walk, like Jemmy O'Brian 

 going to the gallows. 



' How did you come here, Poll ? ' was the natural 



