LIFE IN IRELAND 53 



had been a matter of consideration before our party 



left Sally M 'Lean's, and fortunately the Captain had 



been served with the copy of a writ, some days before, 



which he handed to Brian Boru, remarking, 'A 



soldier has no business to read or even open his mouth, 



except to answer his name and bite off the end of his 



cartridge, and a policeman don't know A from Z, or 



the Lord God from Tom Bell ; so shew 'em this and 



swear 'tis a pass from the Castle.' 



In Dawson-street our motley pair were hailed with 



'Halt ! who comes there? you think I can't see you in 



the dark ! ' 



' Friend to the guard, 



And liegeman to the Dane.' 



' The Devil d n you ! ' said Corporal Kilkenny, 



'but on my conscience you look like a pair of Dirty 

 Lane croppies, ready to rob a whipping-post for the 

 hide and tallow ! ' ' Devil whip your soul out ! ' said 

 Brian ; ' save and except chafetng the revenue by brew- 

 ing a drop of comfort, I 'm as loyal as yourself, and 

 paid for the coat on my back, that's more than you 

 did, wid your lobster back and verdigrease belly.' ' Bad 

 fortune to him that would give a crawley for such a 

 blackguard's coat ! ' retorted the corporal, eyeing the 

 chimney-sweep's cloth which Brian had forgotten 

 hung in tatters from his shoulders. Brian produced 

 the writ as a Castle passport, which the Corporal tried 

 vainly to read by the light of Inspector Lee's three gas 

 lights before his little house wid only one parlour window. 

 No wonder the Corporal could not make it out ; he 

 was taught to read seco7id hand, like a husband's childer 

 by the first wife, or a Lord of the Admiralty. 



