136 BEATING THE SPRINGS AND THE WOOD. 



show an intelligent concern when our disasters 

 and successes were recorded. Tom Redmond 

 was capital company, and therefore his conver- 

 sation could not be written down for a book ; 

 no really bright, unforced chat bears decanting 

 into print. When dinner was over, we went at 

 once into the drawing-room for coffee, and 

 after a couple of hours' music, Uncle Joe called 

 time, but the doctor insisted upon putting us 

 up for the night. To this arrangement we 

 acceded. Staunton and I exchanged tele- 

 graphic nods and signals as we passed up stairs, 

 and in accordance with them, I joined him for 

 a cigar. 



" Did I ever tell you how I came across my 

 wife, in Ireland r '' said Fred. 



" No, I heard you married an Irish lady." 



" Well, the story is worth telling, if you are 

 not too sleepy to listen to a yarn." 



" I should be delighted to hear it. Give the 

 fire a poke, and go ahead." 



Staunton took a few very vigorous puffs, 

 and throwing himself into a roomy arm chair, 

 told his tale as closely after the following 

 fashion as I can remember : 



