268 LIFE IN IRELAND 



Brian, when he cried, be gone^ and all the quadrupeds 

 let go their hold as naturally as they took to it. 



Grammachree, by the help of Sir Shawn, stumped 

 up stairs, and screwing his leg, exclaimed in bitter 

 anguish, — They have tore the skin from the bone : all 

 my ebony has vanished, and my pretty bit of timber, 

 that cost seven pounds ten shilli?igs at the warehouse 

 of Sleath and Williamson, in Fleet-street, London, has 

 fallen a victim to bloodhounds in Dublin. 



'Bedershin,' said Brian Boru. 'The devil shin 

 them,' said Gram, 'for had my ti?nber shift been a 

 shin of beef ^ they would have swallowed it, and me into 

 the bargain.' 



A friendly meeting now began, and as our heroes 

 had not of late been to see the Lord Lieutenant, it was 

 proposed by the Major, and seconded by general 

 opinion, that they should all go to the Lodge, and pay 

 their respects. 



There is, said Grammachree, some prime life to be 

 enjoyed. Did you never hear or see of a 



PIG HUNT. 



There is one to take place in the extra burying ground, 

 so we'll all go together, and in a jaunting car too, for 

 it would be folly to carry a coach to run up to the door 



of a PIGSTYE. 



In a moment they were all comfortably stow'd, and 

 back to back, struck up Barrack-street, and dashed 

 over the Phcenix Park. When they arrived at the 

 Obelisk, they all alighted, and marched up to the 

 Lodge, where they met his Excellency and Suite : 

 his Suite consisted of the Master of the Ceremonies, 



