and, unless they did that, I'd be glad to know how they come to be Irishmen? Well, as I was telling you, it was on the very evening of that very same morning of that very same day, that I was walking up Dame-street, and looking at the statue of King William, stuck up as stout as any Orangeman, on College Green; and I was thinking of poor ould Ireland, and the county Tipperary particularly, when who should walk up to me but a beautiful little creature, not bigger than a leprechaun, and a pair of cheeks on her as red and as smiling as an apple potato.

“Ah, then, Pat, my darling,' says she, putting her nice little red arms about me, 'how are you?'

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Why, then,' says I, if it was myself in person you were putting your arms about, may be I wouldn't be after returning the salute; but it's my brother, my jewel, you have taken a liking to, for you see Pat is his name, and I was christened Darby.'

6

"Well, that was very well. The words were scarce out of my mouth, when up comes a great big fellow that I took at first for Captain Rock, for he had a regular pike in his fist; and giving me a drive with it, he began to make an infernal clatter with something that went for all the world like the clapper of a mill. Oh, Darby O'Flaherty!' says I to myself, what's going to become of you this night at all? As sure as day the master heard you went to the meeting, and paid the rent, and he is now going to destroy, and drive, and eject you, and send you to gaol as a bad tenant.' I had scarce time to say 'by your leave,' or tak to my heels, when I was caught by the two shoulders by a pair of pikemen, and off I was dragged, like a horse's head to a bonfire, or a pig to a pound, and placed in what they called a watch house; but the dickens a watch, nor clock

M

nor as much as an hour-glass, could I see in the entire building!

"Well, scarce had I settled myself down, beside a fine warming fire, when the little creature I was telling you stuck to me still; indeed, she could not well help it, for they dragged her along with me. Up she comes to me, and says she, Darby, would you be after taking a glass this cold night?' 'Never say it twice,' says I; so down we sat, herself, and two or three more gentlemen, and myself, and one or two other ladies, set to a drinking; on, on, on we kept drinking, until the quarest thing happened that ever you dreamt, and makes me sure and certain that Dublin is enchanted, and a watch-house is like a moat in the country, chuck full of fairies.

"In the middle of the drinking, (and it was I that drank hard,) what do you think I should see but the tumblers, and the glasses, doubling, and doubling, and increasing, and increasing, until at last there was nothing in the watch-house, at all, at all, but glasses and tumblers, and then they began to grow bigger and bigger, and at last some of them got heads upon them, and then feet, and they began at last to dance a country dance, and two pewter pints, that were on a stool, began to knock their handles against one another to make music for the company! the curiosest thing of all was-two decanters and a chany bowl that were standing quietly and easily in a cupboard over the fire, when they saw what was going on, jumped down into the middle of the floor; and the instant they did, we, one and all, screeched out for a reel of three.' I'm a Tipperary boy, and ought to know something of dancing; but the dickens a ha'p'orth to equal that I ever saw in the coorse of my born days! One of the decanters was called, as well as

I recollect, Peter Port, and the other 'Sandy Sherry, and the chany bowl was named Miss Punch-considering the unsightly shape she was, (for recollect not the waist in the world she had,) I never saw a more active creature. One minute she'd tumble up to Port, skip upon her rim, turn upside down, and be over in no time to Sherry. They were smart active fellows, too, and what pleased me most of all was to see the politeness of them; for every time the bowl would tumble up to them, they would take the stoppers out of their necks, and shake them down to the ground, as much as to say, 'If it's a hat we had, this is the manners we'd be after showing you, Miss.' Well, this fun continued for a quarter of an hour, until one time, when the three of them were cutting the figure of eight, the poor creature of a bowl getting squeezed between the two decanters, by dad, what I never perceived before, was as plain as murder, she was a little cracked, and a bit of her side came out! There then was the screeching for a glazier to solder her up; and of all the grief I ever saw, nothing could equal the sorrow of the two decanters, as they helped the broken bowl back again into the cupboard: when they got there, the two of them lay down on their sides near Miss Punch, and told us to shut the cupboard door on them, that they would never spoil sport, and for the glasses to go on again as they were before the reel of three was danced. It was then, to be sure, the real country dancing began; there were I am sure, two hundred glasses on the floor at once, and footing it away as hard as they could pelt, when, in the middle of all the fun, I heard a desperate cursing and swearing in one The dancing immediately stopped; and over I ran along with all the glasses to find out what was the

corner.

matter when what should I see but a great big large quart bottle dragging and beating, with all its might and main, a poor little pint bottle. Now, the big bottle was a fine able fellow, and looked as if he never had worked for his bread, but lived upon taxes, or had some other fine easy way of making out a livelihood; besides he had a great belt round him, and on it was written in greatout-of-the-way letters, PERMIT.' However, I could'nt help remarking, that he seemed very weak on the legs, and it wouldn't be at all hard, I thought, to trip him up. The little bottle appeared to be a hard-grown chap, that had starved one half of his life, and worked the other half, and drank, and danced, the other half. Well, I couldn't make out what was the cause of the row, when I heard all the glasses cry out together 'Oh!' here's Parliament and little Potheen fighting again! they beat out the hearts of steel and peep-o'day boys.' Potheen,' says I, 'by the powers! I'm on his side-I'm one of his faction, many's the time he has given me a sup that comforted my heart, when the cabin was cold, and the stomach empty. Let go Potheen,' says I to Parliament, 'let him go, I tell you, or 'Ill be after breaking your ugly mug,' and with that I gave him a dig that knocked him into smithereens. 'Oh! you bloody villain,' says one of the pikemen, 'do you want to break more than you are able to pay for?' And with that he gave me a crack on the back, that laid me flat on my face. 'You're dreaming, you scoundrel,' says he. You lie,' says I; 'did'nt I see Potheen getting a beating, and I by?'

"Come along,' says he, 'before the magistrate.' With that I found it was morning: and, sure enough, he brought me before a dacent gentleman, that was sitting as grand as a bishop, in an arm chair, and a head of hair

on him that was as black as a crow's wing-one Alderman Fleming, I think he was; and when I told him what a rale friend to the country I was, in cracking the skull of a big blackguard, that was beating one of my best friends, and an old friend to the family too, he advised me, in the first place, to go about my business, (if I had any,) and next to take care I should never get into the watch-house a second time, or I might see worse things than a dance of glasses, a reel of decanters, and a boxing match between two bottles of Parliament and Potheen whiskey. I give you my oath, it's I that will take the Alderman's advice; for it's many a long day before Dublin city will catch Darby O'Flaherty walking through one of the enchanted streets again. Well, now, after all that, I hope Master Dan Haskett won't think me bould in saying, it was I that saw the dancing that can't be aiqualled in Bird-hill, any how."

TO ELIZA*.

BY THE LATE RIGHT HON. R. B. SHERIDAN.

Oh! Summer, sweet and lovely are thy days!
Yet not without alloy thy gifts we share;
How full of peril is thy lightning's blaze—
How full of terror do thy meteors glare.
But when no more the bickering lightnings play,
And when no more the meteor's blaze is seen,

With double joy we bless thy milder ray,

With double joy we hail the calm serene.

Such, my Eliza, are the woes of love

Wrath's lightning eye-the storm that grief lets fall;
But when from reason's sun the clouds remove,

The dear delightful calm o'erpays it all!

*The first Mrs. Sheridan.