72 LIFE IN IRELAND 



beside them, cheek by jowl, the humbler damsels from 

 the Bogs of Allen, the Mountains of Mourne, the Coal 

 Quay, Ringsend, and Irish Town, ran and bellowed 

 with rapture the name of their King; even they had 

 their beauties — 



' Charms valued most when earth 's in darkness clad, 

 Too strong for nostrils and for sight too bad ; 

 But great to move, when whiskey's torrents roll, 

 The noblest passions of poor Paddy's soul.' 



No matter, they had honest, open hearts, bodies, sound 

 wind and limb, and all of them loved the King as 

 sincerely as they did their husbands. 



Fastidious and sulky must the man have been who 

 could peep under the poke bonnet of titled rank, or 

 the cabbage-leaf cut toppar of rosy, coloured labour, 

 and not find a face and a look to please him. 'AH 

 around, high and low, wherever a petticoat weaves in 

 the gale of exultation at a Sovereign's approach,' said 

 Brian Boru, 



* Fair beauty meets the adoring eye. 

 Heaven's graces on my fancy shine, 

 I see the sire of love on high, 

 And vow his work indeed divine.' 



Our heroes now made sail for the Liffey ; an elegant 

 cold collation was soon done justice to ; the sparkling 

 champagne gave a zest to the scene ; the sailors had 

 whiskey galore, and as the bark lightly danced over the 

 waves, the band played favourite airs, and Br'an Boru 

 once more invoked his Galway muse, and in a manly 

 way sang extempore to a beloved Irish tune, which the 

 music accompanied to his voice. 



