THE MAD MAJOR AND THE BEGGAHS. 17 



inhabitants betrayed symptoms of irritation ; I have heard 

 hackney- coachmen cursing at a crowded opera over a fractured 

 panel or broken pole ; I have listened to a score of watermen 

 squabbling for a fare at Westminster Bridge ; I have been on 

 board a transport in a gale of wind, with an irreligious com- 

 mander ; but Tuam for ever! there cursing is perfection. 



Mine, George, is but a rambling narrative, and my details, 

 however interesting, lay no claim to the lucidus ordo ; there- 

 fore I reserve full liberty from the very start to bolt into digres- 

 sions when and as I please. 



Of the many anecdotes that I have heard my father narrate 

 of his friend, the Mad Major, one was particularly characte- 

 ristic. 



When the gallant 50th were removed to Mullingar, it was 

 supposed that this town produced a greater number of beggars 

 than any in the king's dominions : a swarm of paupers rendered 

 the streets almost impassable, and ingress or egress to or from 

 a shop was occasionally impracticable. Now, beggars were 

 to the Mad Major an abomination ; and for two days he en- 

 sconced himself in his lodgings, rather than encounter the men- 

 dicants of Mullingar. Confinement will increase bile, and bile 

 may induce gout ; and at last, wearied of captivity, he sallied 

 forth, and to every application for relief, he specified an early 

 day, requesting the numerous supplicants to be punctual to the 

 appointed time. His wish was faithfully attended to ; and on 

 the expected morning, the street where he resided was lite- 

 rally blocked up. The Major, under a volley of blessings, 

 appeared at the hall-door. " Are you all here?" he inquired, 

 in accents of the tenderest compassion. " All, your honour 

 all, young and owld!" responded a big beggarman. " We're 

 all here, colonel, avorneenf exclaimed a red virago, " but my 

 own poor man, Brieney Bokkogh-,* and he, the crater ! fell into 

 the fire a Sunday night, and him hearty, and sorrow stir he 

 can make good nor bad." " Ah, then," said the humane 

 commander, " why should poor Brien be left out? Arrah! 

 run yourself, and bring the cripple to us," In a twinkling 

 off went the red virago, and, after a short absence, issued 

 from a neighbouring lane, with Brieney on her shoulders. 

 " Are you all here now?" inquired the tender-hearted chief- 

 tain. " Every single sowl of us," said an old woman in reply. 



* Bryan the Cripple. 



