DISCRETION. 137 



he humorously deplored the scarcity of discretion 

 amongst its votaries, the following anecdote, as I had it 

 from himself, sufficiently attests. 



While he hunted his own hounds in Kildare, his most 

 constant attendant, though on foot, was a nondescript 

 character, such as is called " a tight boy " in Ireland, 

 and nowhere else, belonging to a class that never seem 

 to do a day's work, nor to eat a plentiful meal, but are 

 always pleasant, obliging, idle, hungry, thirsty, and 

 supremely happy. Running ten miles on foot to covert, 

 Mick, as he was called, would never leave the hounds 

 till they reached their kennels at night. Thus, plodding 

 home one evening by his lordship's horse, after an 

 unusually long and fatiguing run, the rider could not 

 help expostulating with the walker on such a perverse 

 misapplication of strength, energy, and perseverance. 

 " Why, look at the work you have been doing," said his 

 lordship ; " with a quarter of the labour you might have 

 earned three or four shillings at least. What a fool you 

 must be, Mick, to neglect your business, and lose half 

 your potatoes, that you may come out with my 

 hounds ! " 



Mick reflected a moment, and looked up, " Ah ! me 

 lard," replied he, with such a glance of fun as twinkles 

 nowhere but in the Irish blue of an Irish eye, "it's 



