78 LIFE IN IRELAND 



Our party separated at Carlisle Bridge ; Lady Demi- 

 quaver for Mountjoy Square, and the hopeful trio for 

 Morrison's hotel, in Dawson Street, to enjoy a good 

 supper, and some of the best port in Dublin ; Morrison 

 declares himself that more than five hundred Jont/emen 

 have drank themselves to death with his wine, and not 

 one of them ever afterwards complained of the quality 

 of the liquor. 



Grammachree indulged in a nap whilst the supper 

 was getting ready, and Sir Shawn read a few pages of 

 the Correspondefit Post. ' By my truth,' said Brian, 

 ' it would seem as if the Queen had died out of pure 

 spite, to throw a damper on the King's Irish journey, 

 but possibly, though she was a Queen, she could no 

 more help dying than a subject ; it would have been a 

 mockery for the King to affect a sorrow he could not 

 feel. There was only one thing in which him and his 

 wife always agreed — cordially hating each other. The 

 bit of crape is therefore worn, not out of affection to 

 her memory, but honour to the station death carried 

 her away from.' ' She is gone,' said Grammachree, 

 who had just awoke by the smell of supper advancing, 

 ' she is gone to heaven to wear a crown of glory.' 

 ' Bedershin !' said Brian, 'and so let her rest, for she 

 had a devilish restless time upon earth, and was glad 

 to be going.' — Our worthies did ample justice to an 

 excellent supper, and bumpered the health of George 

 the Fourth more than twenty times. 



'These papers,' said Sir Shawn, 'are filled with lies 

 from beginning to end ; the King must despise the 

 authors for their meanness and servility. I trust he 

 does not censure a whole nation for the actions of a 



