48 LIFE IN IRELAND 



day, in sociability, the whole party proceeded to Sally 

 M'Lean's, the Lady Abbess of Stafford Street. Sir 

 Shawn had two objects in view, his own whim to 

 gratify, and the humane one of saving Miss Kettlewell 

 from getting into a pretty kettle of fish with her em- 

 ployer, who would be sure to send her supperless to 

 roost if she went home without a gulpin and a dirty 

 wardrobe to boot. A word or two of poor Sally and 

 her establishment for the benefit of mankind ; she is 

 now under the sod, but the good she did, is not, like 

 Caesar's, 



' Buried with his bones ' ; 



many a bloody and many a blowen remember her w^ith 

 gratitude. Dublin could have spared a better woman ; 

 Tom Byrne wrote an ode to her memory, w^hich every 

 cherubim in Anglesea Street chaunted as a response to 

 her departed soul. 



Sally never had less than a round dozen of beauties 

 under her tuition ; in truth, if they were not first-rate 

 beauties they would not do, for Sally dealt only with 

 first-rate customers. Like her predecessor Peg Plunket, 

 whom the Lord Lieutenant patronized for her many 

 useful qualities, she never inveigled the innocent into 

 her snares, and in many instances rescued the unwary 

 from destruction, and sent them home to their friends, 

 pure and unsullied. Sal was very liberal to her friends, 

 and would make little of spending ten pounds on a 

 supper to w^elcome an old cock back to the hen-roost. 



Sally had prepared a sound lecture for her lost 

 mutton, but the sight of Sir Shawn O'Dogherty at 

 once disarmed her rage ; she assumed a Jesuitical smile, 



