14 SPORTING REMINISCENCES 



I know that our fat cook's brother, it must have 

 been just before this final burst up, was always 

 called the robbineen. He tried to stop Mr. 

 Gubbins one day, with hounds running out of 

 Tory Hill, and threatened him with a big stick. 

 Out came the hunting horn. 



" Drop that now or I'll shoot you as if you were 

 a robbineen," thundered John Gubbins, just 

 showing the nozzle. At this Martin lowered the 

 reins with a yelp, the Master put the horn back, 

 and unfortunately there were witnesses whose 

 zeal in politics did not prevent them rushing to 

 Groom with their tale. 



The cook's brother, a soured man, went to 

 America. He was a giant and had pledged his 

 reputation to stop the Master. Limerick had two 

 packs when the deerhounds were hunting. Now 

 it has one, and some Harriers. 



There is a story told of my father on that same 

 old horse Sarsefield, — I believe he never cared for 

 anything else, — when the deer was coming across 

 near Tory Hill. 



First the deer, next my father who had nicked 

 in, and was flying along bhssfully ignoring that 

 the next things were the hounds and Mr. Gubbins 

 using truly Master-like language. 



I think there is only one man ahve and hunting 

 now who hunted with those deerhounds. A Mr. 

 Ryan who comes from Bruree and who rode like 

 a demon, He came alone down William Street 



