MOLL RAFFLE.
I was sitting one day at the police-court in Dublin, along with another magistrate, when a gentleman entered and preferred a very urgent request that one of us would accompany him to Kingstown, to witness and certify the execution of a power of attorney by his mother, in reference to certain funds in the Bank of England. The applicant was reputed to be the natural son of a very distinguished nobleman who had discharged viceregal duties in Ireland, and also in very important and extensive oriental territories. I never heard what the original name of the lady had been, but she was known by the rather inelegant soubriquet of Moll Raffle. She had followed her aristocratic paramour to Ireland, and he had relieved himself from her claims or importunities by providing her with a husband, and her son with an official appointment of respectable rank and emolument. I had never seen her, and I was influenced by personal curiosity to accede to her son's request. We proceeded to Kingstown, and on arriving at a commodious and genteel residence, he desired the servant to inform Mrs. —— that he had brought the magistrate for the business required. In a few minutes she appeared, and although no longer youthful, or even middle-aged, a second look was not necessary to convince me that she must have been exquisitely beautiful in her features, and of a tall and symmetrical figure. Her right arm was bandaged and in a sling, and she exclaimed to her son that she was deeply mortified at having given me the trouble of coming so far on an ineffectual mission, for that she had unfortunately sustained a severe fall, having trodden on a loose stair-rod just after he had started for Dublin, and her wrist and hand were so much bruised as to render her incapable of making her signature. I told her that if she took the pen in her left hand, I would, at her instance and request, guide it so as to write her name, and that I would explain the matter in a special magisterial attestation on the document. To this suggestion she readily acceded, and the power of attorney was promptly perfected. She insisted that I should take luncheon, after which I left. Not having to return to official duties, I sauntered through Kingstown until about four o'clock, when I went to the jetty, which was crowded, as a military band was playing there. I was not long on the jetty before I saw Mrs. —— with half-a-dozen companions, but the sling was gone, and her right hand seemed perfectly capable of managing her parasol. I subsequently ascertained that "Moll Raffle" had never been taught to write, and that she thought it more agreeable to pretend that her hand had been hurt than to acknowledge her educational deficiency.