'i28 LIFE IN IRELAND 



'I like the idea,' said Sir Shawn, 'it is one worthy 

 of Gram ; but how will we mingle and not be known ? ' 

 'Leave that to me; Teague Slaughter was born on my 

 father's estate, his mother was pig-keeper to our middle 

 man from the hour I was born, so Teague is a kind 

 of foster-brother to myself; he is the happy man ; and 

 Peg Levelway was running footman in the place of a 

 twopenny post-horse to the whole town of Newry ; 

 many a teaster have I given her for a shilling's worth of 

 work, so you see I have the interest necessary.' ' Bravo, 

 Gram !' said Sir Shawn, 'we can't go upon a forlorn 

 hope where you lead the way!' 'Hope,' said Gram, 

 'by St. Patrick! all will be life, hope, and rapture; 

 ten cars were engaged this morning to bring the daises 

 from the Royal Canal, every one clean smock and 

 block; the Black Rock jingles are now jingling down 

 Townsend Street with hundreds of black-faced clogs in 

 white shirts and worsted hat-bands tied round their 

 right arms, stuffed with gilt paper shamrocks and 

 wedding favours. Come along, boys, or we shall be 

 too late. 



' The game is up, the sport 's begun, 

 By Jasus ! 'twill be glorious fun.' 



The procession on this memorable day was more 

 than commonly grand : if all Dublin was not there, 

 the best part of it was. Townsend Chapel spliced the 

 lovely pair; that is, the minister of it, — 'tis all the 

 same. In Ireland we have a snug little thing in a 

 corner called 'the priest's bottle,' and after undergoing 

 the mighty fatiguing ceremony of a marriage, a drop 

 of it sets the nerves straight, and bothers the senses 



