KIDD'S LONDON JOURNAL. 



175 



on the rope ; and those inexhaustible reposi- 

 tories of fun and laughter, which contain 

 within a space of six inches what usually 

 occupy the space of fifty yards : these, we 

 say — and how many hundred others? send 

 us, and half the world home, brim full of 

 Bloomers, tricks, fun, and good humor. 

 M.Robin! thou art a clever fellow. In the 

 name of all married men, do tell us (in con- 

 fidence) how you get rid of your wife so 

 easily ; and that, too, with so winning a 

 smile on her pretty face. 



Ton honor, if you let us into 'your confi- 

 dence we will give you another notice in our 

 Journal ; and even then remain partly in 

 your debt ! Mind ; we are not going to 

 " practise." 



"WE'LL SEE ABOUT IT." 



The following graphic sketch, from the 

 pen of Mrs. S. C. Hall, is meant by that 

 lady to apply particularly to the inhabitants 

 of Ireland ; but it has a voice quite as power- 

 ful to the inhabitants of England. The 

 danger of delay cannot be too strongly 

 pointed out, and the procrastinating spirit 

 that exists among us of putting off till a 

 future moment what may just as well — nay 

 better, be done at once, deserves the severest 

 censure. With this feeling in view, we give 

 extensive currency to the following, in the 

 hope that the moral it inculcates may be 

 generally acted upon. 



" We'll see about it! " — from that simple sen- 

 tence has arisen more evil to Ireland, than any 

 person, ignorant of the strange union of impetu- 

 osity and procrastination my countrymen ex- 

 hibit, could well believe. They are sufficiently 

 prompt and energetic where their feelings are 

 concerned, but, in matters of business, they almost 

 invariably prefer seeing about, to doing., 



I shall not find it difficult to illustrate this ob- 

 servation : from the many examples of it, in high 

 and low life, I select Philip Garraty. 



Philip, Philip's wife, and Philip's children, and 

 all the house of Garraty, are employed from 

 morning till night in seeing about everything, 

 and consequently in doing nothing. There is 

 Philip — a tall, handsome, good-humored fellow 

 of about five-and-thirty, with broad, lazy -looking 

 shoulders, and a smile perpetually lurking about 

 his mouth or in his bright hazel eyes — the picture 

 of indolence and kindly feeling. There he is, 

 leaning over what was once a five -barred gate, and 

 leads to the haggart; his blue worsted stockings 

 full of holes ; which the suggan, twisted half-way 

 up the well-formed leg, fails to conceal; while 

 his brogues (to use his own words), if they do let 

 in the water, let it out again, With what un- 

 studied elegance does he roll that knotted twine 

 and then unroll it, varying his occupation at 

 times by kicking the stones that once formed a 

 Avail, into the stagnant pool, scarcely large enough 

 for full-grown ducks to sail in. 



But let us first take a survey of the premises. 



The dwelling house is a long rambling abode 



much larger than the generality of those that fall 

 to the lot of small Irish farmers; but the fact is 

 that Philip rents one of the most extensive farms 

 in the neighborhood, and ought to be 'well to do 

 in the world.' The dwelling looks very comfort- 

 less, notwithstanding : part of the thatch is much 

 decayed, and the rank weeds and damp moss 

 nearly cover it ; the door posts are only united to 

 the wall by a few scattered portions of clay and 

 stone, and the door itself is hanging but by one 

 hinge ; the window frames shake in the passing 

 wind, and some of the compartments are stuffed 

 with the crown of a hat, or a ' lock of straw ' — 

 very unsightly objects. At the opposite side of 

 the swamp, is the haggart gate, where a broken 

 line of alternate palings and wall exhibit proof 

 that it had formerly been fenced in; the com- 

 modious barn is almost roofless, and the other 

 sheds in pretty much the same condition ; the 

 pig-stye is deserted by the grubbing lady and 

 her grunting progeny, who are too fond of an 

 occasional repast in the once cultivated garden 

 to remain in their proper abode; the listless 

 turkeys, and contented half-fatted geese, live at 

 large on the public; but the turkeys, with all 

 their shyness and modesty, have the best of it — 

 for they mount the ill-built stacks, and select 

 grain, a plaisir. 



1 Give you good morrow, Mr. Philip ; we have 

 had showery weather lately.' 



- Och, all manner o' joy to ye, my lady, and 

 sure ye'll walk in, and sit down; my woman will 

 be proud to see ye. I am sartin we'll have the 

 rain soon agin, for it's everywhere, like bad luck; 

 and my throat's sore with hurishing them pigs 

 out o' the garden — sorra' a thing can I do all day 

 for watching them.' 



' Why do you not mend the door of the stye? ' 



' True for ye, ma'am, dear, so I would — if I 

 had the nails, and I've been threatening to step 

 down to Mickey Bow, the smith, to ask him to 

 see about it.' 



* I hear you've had a fine crop of wheat, Philip.' 



' Thank God for all things ! You may say 

 that; we had, my lady, a fine crop — but I have 

 always the height of ill luck somehow ; upon 

 my sowskins (and that's the hardest oath I 

 swear) the turkeys have had the most of it; 

 but I mean to see about setting it up safe to- 

 morrow,' 



' But, Philip, I thought you sold the wheat, 

 standing, to the steward at the big house.' 



' It was all as one as sould, only it's a bad world, 

 madame dear, and I've no luck. — Says the steward 

 to me, says he, I like to do things like a man of 

 business ; so, Mr. Garraty, just draw up a bit of 

 an agreement that you deliver over the wheat- 

 field to me, on sich a day, standing as it is, for 

 sich a sum, and I'll sign it for ye ; and thin there 

 can be no mistake, only let me have it by this 

 day week. — Well, to be sure I came home full o' 

 my good luck, and I tould the wife, and on the 

 strength of it she must have a new gown. And 

 sure, says she, Miss Hennessy is just come from 

 Dublin, wid a shop full o' goods, and on account 

 that she's my brother's sister-in-law's first cousin, 

 she'll let me have first sight of the things, and 

 I can take my pick, and ye'll have plenty of time 

 to see about the agreement to-morrow. Well, I 

 don't know how it was, but the next day we had 



