144 LIFE IN IRELAND 



As a sample of Low Life in Dublin, a better could 

 not be produced ; and the Baronet took some pains to 

 explain its beauties to his friend Brian Boru. — In 

 truth, Sir Shawn was no stranger to those receptacles 

 for the living dead — for dead he must be to all the 

 gentle feelings of natural life, who could voluntarily 

 embed himself in such a charnel-house. Nevertheless 

 here was Major Gram, and so well satisfied with his 

 condition, that he swore he would not budge an inch to 

 save his * * ^ ^. — The old Beldame, or the letter-out 

 of this hell for Christians, was very clamorous, insisting 

 that as ' \\\Q.jo7itle men did not purpose having a snooze, 

 or a chop of mutton, they should come down for a drop 

 of stitriiikey.^ To this they had no objection, and 

 Brian pulling out three two-and-ninepennys, set all the 

 room in an uproar; every table then stood upon its 

 own bottom ; all bolted up from the straw roller, and 

 smacked their lips, and scratched their heads, with 

 evident anticipation of joys to come. Such a scene 

 was never before painted or written. Belzoni might 

 have been at an Egyptian feast a little similar, where 

 the mummies of three thousand years' pickling are 

 placed at the festive board, by way of compliment ; 

 nothing could be more ghastly. Peg Wither and Grin 

 toddled out, and soon returned with a black jack full 

 of the real native, part of which she very gracelessly 

 handed to our heroes in a wooden dram glass; this 

 they condescended to taste, and the nappy went round 

 in full chorus ; even Grammachree roused himself, 

 and took a tip over tongue to the tune of ' better luck 

 still.' The scene now became boisterous in the extreme, 

 and the expressions of gratitude which flew from all 



