LIFE IN IRELAND 65 



'The devil necessitate you! Here he is himself! 

 Och, and by my soul, in the raal rig. Twig the sky- 

 blue scar, see the knot of white ribbon pinned to it by 

 O'Connel, and pledged by Sir Edmund Stanley, as a 

 proof of the union of souls, met to receive Old Ireland's 

 King. Sir Shaw^n, you 're mighty welcome as you 're 

 come, but your absence wou'dn't have offended us. 

 What do you want ? ' ' Want ! you rogues ; your de- 

 lectable company. My yacht is in the Bay, my barge 

 waiting for us at Ringsend, and I am waiting for your 

 company.' 



Away they ran but soon stopped; 'Call a coach,' 

 said Sir Shawn. ' Coach ! coach ! ' bellowed Gram 

 in true military tone. 'Here's a coach, your honour's 



worship and glory,' said a ; by the holy Jasus ! 



I didn't know what to call him, he hadn't a rag on his 

 back, but he was a rag-bunch altogether; he hadn't a 

 foot to his shoe, or a head to his hat. ' Here 's a coach, 

 your Mightiness ! ' ' Why,' said Sir Shawn, ' 'tis only 

 a car.' 'Never mind, your honour, if it is a car, there 

 is no other coach upon the stand ; so needs must when 

 the Devil drives ! ' ' Oh, if you are the Devil, for once 

 I will place myself under your black protection.' In 

 jumped the Baronet, Brian followed and lolled upon 

 the hay like an over-fed beast in a haggart ; Gramma- 

 chree hitched over the side rail, and unscrewing his leg 

 began the tune of ' Paddy Whack ' in fine style. The 

 truth was. Gram loved music, and he had a fife wooden- 

 leg. I am told Lord Fife, of discarded memory, 

 invented the instrument, but no matter; he 'could 

 play any ting on de fife,' and he did it in the present 

 instance. 



E 



