LIFE IN IRELAND 295 



Let us return where all are in waiting for the review, 

 and ready to start ; hip halloo, and away they go, 

 altogether, one after another, neck and heels, tail up 

 for the Phoenix Park. 



Sir Shawn started without any ceremony ; he knew 

 the time when to use it : the old jolly Major ran after 

 him on a fine charger, and in high spirits ; and Brian 

 BoRU, as usual, linked and led by the petticoat strings, 

 sent Mooney home with his horses, and suffered Lady 

 Demiquaver to drive him to the scene of action in her 

 curricle. Of long practice, she could take the whip 

 hand of any man, either on the road or out of it; and 

 she had a method of making you believe she never 

 quartered or shared the board with any one, but always 

 drove bang up to the mark her fancy had fixed upon : 

 in truth, she handled the reins with skill, and managed 



' Brian Boru at will.' 



Under her control, Brian had no danger to fear ; she 

 was not the mercenary devil who had bedevilled 

 him out of his fame and fortune; she loved him for 

 himself, and cared for no other for the tijiie : och, mind 

 you, for the time, for she was as skittish as a young 

 filly, and as uncertain as the Venus de Medicis, were 

 she animated, and had her hand at liberty. 



Brian and her Ladyship rapidly followed the two 

 friends, the military heroes. 



It must be confessed that Grammachree held Sir 

 Shawn's military talents in the most sovereign con- 

 tempt. How the devil, would Gram exclaim {in his 

 cups), can a militia's officer know anything of storming 

 a battery, besieging a town, or marshalling a whole 



