THE MAD MAJOR. 25 



absent from ill-health, and the command, of course, 

 devolved upon the Major. By one of the military 

 abuses at that time too common, a little Scotch doctor, 

 who had somehow been appointed Adjutant to a Fencible 

 regiment, was transferred from it to the 5Oth. Incom- 

 petent from professional inability, he was further afflicted 

 by a constitutional nervousness, that made him badly 

 calculated to come in contact with such a personage 

 as the Mad Major. 



Shortly after the little Scotchman joined, the half- 

 yearly inspection took place. Major O'Farrell, in 

 the course of his evolutions, found it requisite to 

 deploy into line, and called to his field assistant " to 

 take an object." " Have you got one ? " cried the 

 commander in a voice of thunder. " Yes, sir," replied 

 the alarmed Adjutant, in a feeble squeak. The word 

 was given, and the right wing kept moving, until the 

 face of the regiment assumed the form of a semi-circle. 

 " Hallo ! where or what is your object ? " roared the 

 Major. " A crow, sir," replied the unhappy Scotsman. 

 " And where is the crow ? " roared the Commander. 

 " Flown off," was the melancholy response. " May the 

 devil fly away with you, body and bones ! Halt dress ! 

 Stop, Sir Charles ; do stop. Just allow me two minutes 

 to curse that rascally Adjutant." To so reasonable a 

 request Sir Charles, who was a most obliging officer, 

 readily assented. The General mentioned often that 

 the damning of a stupid Adjutant was no novelty ; but 

 that he never saw a man cursed to his perfect satisfac- 

 tion until he heard the Scotch doctor anathematized 

 in the Phoenix Park. 



The death of poor Denis was in such perfect keeping 

 with his life, that I am tempted to give it to you. 



