AND HOW I HAVE CAUGHT MY FISH 81 



bouring waist, or the lady to seize in convulsive 

 grip the gentleman's knee, or the trousers where 

 the knee should be. It is strange, passing strange, 

 but I will pledge that that same pair would, were 

 they seated back to back, perform that very 

 same journey, encounter the same jerkings and 

 joltings, with no more thought of care than if they 

 were safely perched on the comfortable back seat 

 of an English dog-cart. 



Pat is at his best when driving, and, if your wits 

 be quick enough to follow his, you will be able to 

 store up much cud for future rumination. As I was 

 driving one day I noticed that my jarvey addressed 

 passing peasants of his acquaintance in the Irish 

 tongue, while to his horse he used such words as 

 I was familiar with at home in England. Impelled 

 by curiosity, I stood up and leaned over the seat, 

 and, with a smile, said, " Now, Pat, why is it that 

 you speak to your friends in Irish, but always talk 

 in English to your horse ?" " Why, your honour, 

 says Pat, " isn't it good enough for him ? " 



This little tale will give you some idea of the 

 subtlety of an Irishman's humour, and you will need 

 some length of acquaintance with Erin before you 

 will clearly know whether you may indulge your 

 laughter freely, or whether that laugh is doomed 

 to die away in a sickly smile as you realise, too 

 late, that Pat has got one home through your 

 armour that's a little bit against yourself. Be on 

 your guard always, for I have known him spend 



G 



