AN EVENING AT BELLEEK. 45 



was Pythoness of old. They are then gene- 

 rally carried to bed, and, indeed, are fre- 

 quently some days before they entirely recover 

 their senses." 



The wrath of the Scholar had been gra- 

 dually rising throughout the whole of this 

 lecture, which the Parson delivered with the 

 most absurd gravity ; and there is no saying 

 what might have been the upshot, had not 

 the Squire good-humouredly pushed him 

 down the stairs before him ; while the Cap- 

 tain, who had just drawn back the curtain 

 that concealed a far cleaner bed than the 

 rest of the establishment would lead one to 

 expect, shouted after him, " Good night, 

 Scholar ! sleep in peace. Keep a civil tongue 

 in your head about Eome, and may St. Wil- 

 liam * have you in his holy keeping V " 



great and good King William, who delivered us from 

 Popery, slavery, brass money, wooden shoes, and 

 warming-pans. May he who refuses to drink this be 

 rammed, and damned, and double-damned, and cram- 

 med into the great gun of Athlone, and fired up into 

 the elements, and blown to smithereens, to make spar- 

 row-bills for Orangemen's shoes ! May his soul be in 

 the pope's belly, the pope in the devil's belly, the devil 

 in hell, hell in flames, and the key in the Orangeman's 

 pocket. . . .and a fig for the Bishop of Cork." 



