98 WILD SPORTS OF THE WEST. 



romances, as he recites to his attentive auditory in the 

 kitchen his narratives of former times. 



" If the otter-hunter's tales be true, the primitive 

 gentlewomen of the Emerald Isle were no vestals ; and 

 the judge of the Consistorial Court, had such then 

 existed, would have had scarcely time to bless himself." 



It was twelve o'clock, and no abatement of revelry 

 was yet manifest among the dancers in the kitchen. 

 The piper's music appeared inexhaustible, and, maugre 

 fatigue and whisky, the company were as fresh and 

 effective as when the ball commenced. " I must rout 

 them," said my cousin ; " the devils would dance till 

 doomsday." He opened the door, but stopped and 

 beckoned me to approach. I looked out ; the boys 

 and girls had left the floor, the men settling themselves 

 on the colliaghsy empty casks, and turf cleaves* while 

 the ladies were comfortably accommodated upon their 

 partners' knees. One gentleman alone was standing. 

 Presently two sticks were laid crosswise on the ground ; 

 the pipes struck up an unusual sort of jig, and the feat 

 commenced. " This," said my kinsman, ** is called 

 the ' pater 'O-pee,' and none but an accomplished dancer 

 would attempt it." 



To describe this dance would be impossible : it con- 

 sisted of an eternal hopping into the small compart- 

 ments formed by the crossing of the cudgels on the floor, 

 without touching the sticks. 



Now, holding reasonable doubts whether, upon Mr. 

 Cooney presenting himself to Monsieur Laporte, this 

 gentleman would favour him with an engagement, I'll 

 bet the manager, notwithstanding, a cool hundred, that, 

 on the strength of the King's Theatre, he has no artiste 

 who will touch Tim Cooney at the pater -o- pee ! 

 * A nglice, baskets. 



