LIFE IN IRELAND 123 



Ladies and gentlemen at this Club meet, drink, 

 dance, and sing altogether. Harmony, harmony; oh! 

 it is exquisite! I have heard ' Eiren go Bragh,' 'The 

 Battle of the Boyne,' 'The Grinder,' 'Paddy Wack,' 

 and 'The Sprig of Shillelagh,' all chaunted by different 

 voices, and accompanied by //z-different fiddles, each 

 man playing his own favourite tune. At the conclusion 

 the gas burns dim ; and have you not seen the boys 

 and girls at a county Charter-school standing up to 

 read the Bible lesson ? if you haven't, I have ; they 

 gobble over the leaves like hawks, and run to prank it 

 upon the green sod, like a parcel of Lord Ely's grey- 

 hounds ; just so ends the Cutchachoo ; all dance and 

 sing to the tune of 



' Bumpers, bumpers ! ' 



This song, set to music by Tommy Moore and written 

 by a Croaking frog^ is excellent in its kind; you shall 

 have it when I have nothing more important to give 

 you ; at present Madame Catalan! is squalling in most 

 delectable style ' God shave de Can,' meaning in 

 English ' God save the King.' The thing was good, 

 and good-humoured ; Paddy applauded her mightily. 

 ' By my soul ! ' said a coffee-house Napkin, ' how clear 

 she has got her throat since eight o'clock this morning, 

 when I saw her swallow twelve cups of coffee, three 

 beef steaks, and an arm chair. ^ This observation 

 attracted Brian's attention: 'By my soul,' said he to 

 Sir Shawn, ' I wonder if the chair was stuffed with 

 hair and gilt with brass nails ? she must have had the 

 Devil's own swallow.' 'Och!' said Sir Shawn, 'a 

 bolus of horse-hair, Brian, or a buttered hedge-hog is 

 a remedy for clearing hoarseness, sold by Terence 



