202 LIFE IN IRELAND 



gallery, and prepared to stop the night with Brian 

 BoRU. — By my soul, said Brian, it is a lucky hit, for 

 I have just parted with my very best friend, and we'll 

 have a tumbler to his health before you shall have a 

 jolly good shake down ; the carpet, doubled and trebled, 

 will form a fine field bed ; my bear coat, bed clothes, 

 and those rusty old Galway saddle-bags a mighty soft 

 pillow to rest your potatoe skull upon : with this he 

 shook him by the hand for love so cruelly, that Blake 

 swore he had the devil's grasp and his own too. 

 Patrick Mooney had left a good fire in the grate, 

 when he was locked out, and Brian had to stand in 

 the place of his servant. Blake filled the Teakettle, 

 alias Sukey, and clapt her on the fire ; Brian set the 

 glasses on the table, unlocked ihegardavine, and pulled 

 out a case bottle of plain, and one of raspberry 

 whiskey^ with all the materials requisite for punch- 

 making. 



The two worthies drew around the fire, and Blake 

 proposed calling in Swan, the exciseman, who pig^d 

 in the next room, to amuse them. In a prison, any 

 sort of company is reckoned good company, so Blake 

 brought in Swan by the ear. The exciseman was a 

 little squabby fellow, four feet high, knock kneed, buck 

 shinned, splay footed, humpbacked, and razor faced: 

 he was half undressed, that is, everything was off him 

 but the breeches and shirt ; the breeches could not 

 well slip off, for he held them in his left flipper ; the 

 remains of his shirt were following fast its preceding 



parts to 



'That bourne from whence no traveller returns.' 



In truth, the wife had made use of a large piece from 



