LIFE IN IRELAND 117 



As they walked up Sackville Street, Sir Shawn 

 admonished Brian, as this was the first essay to him 

 of High Life, to observe much and say Uttle. As they 

 passed by Nelson's Pillar, Brian observed that it was 

 mortal ugly, and the ship on the top looked like a 

 dog-vane on a maypole. ' Why,' said Sir Shawn, 'as 

 Nelson's actions were unlike any other man's, the Irish 

 architect determined to make this recording monument 

 unlike anything in heaven above or on earth beneath; 

 and, by Jasus ! hke Nelson's actions, which may be 

 imitated but never surpassed, this pile of stones may 

 be imitated, but I defy the Devil's own architect to 

 come up to the ugly original.' 



The Rotunda Gardens were very brilliantly illumi- 

 nated; horn lanthorns were hung in the trees, and the 

 smell of lamp oil perfumed the air; bands of music 

 played Irish airs with French accompaniments, and 

 kettle drums shook the dust off the trees in clouds 

 sufficient to smother any but an Irish company. Our 

 heroes surveyed the motley groups with satisfaction ; 

 titled beaux and belles, merchants and tradesmen, shop- 

 keepers, innkeepers, excisemen, tax-gatherers, soldiers, 

 pickpockets, parsons, grass-widows, men and women 

 milliners, demirups, and accommodation beauties 

 mingled together, and threaded the mazes of this 

 superlative garden over and over again. ' By the 

 cross,' said Brian, 'it is a pain to walk in this pleasure 

 garden : 'tis a fisherman's promenade — three steps and 

 overboard; instead of Dublin Vauxhall, it should be 

 christened Vex-all, for none can go pleased from such 

 a poor, proud, pitiful, pimping place.' Sir Shawn 

 smiled at Brian's alliterative apostrophe, and remarked, 



