Dashall, whose place would more properly have been in the circle within the palace than amongst the spectators without, was frequently saluted by the passing company; and when the fair hand of beauty waved gracefully towards him, Sir Felix felt happy in the friendship and society of a gentleman thus honoured with such distinguished recognition, and in the warmth of his feelings exclaimed aloud, that, “by the immortal powers, were he King of England, he would be more proud of the irradiating charms of these celestial visiters, than in the diadem of royalty and extension of empire!” This remark was universally acquiesced in, and most cordially so by a group of lively girls, to whom it had apparently given much pleasure; one of whom thanked the Baronet in the name of the sex, and complimented him on his gallantry, which she said was truly characteristic of his country.
To Sir Felix an encomium from a fair lady was ever irresistible.
He bowed, expressed a commensurate feeling of gratitude for the honour conferred upon him, and professed himself an ardent admirer of the whole of women kind; concluding by humming a stanza from Burns,—
“Auld Nature swears the lovely dears Her noblest work she classes, O; Her 'prentice han' she tried on man, And then she made the lasses, O.”
Unluckily for the apophthegm of the Baronet, it so happened, that a quarrel took place in the immediate vicinity and hearing of the party, between two rival female fruiterers of the Emerald Isle; during which incivilities were exchanged in language not altogether acceptable to the auricular organs of delicacy. The brogue was that of Munster,—the war of words waged quicker and faster; and from invective the heroines seemed rapidly approximating to actual battle. Neither park-keeper nor constable were at hand; and although the surrounding mobility “laughed at the tumult and enjoyed the storm,” Sir Felix, much distressed at so untoward an incident, and deeply interested in the honour of his country, so lately the theme of elegant panegyric, dashed through the crowd, the component parts of which he scattered aside like chaff, and arrested the further progress of the wranglers.
“Arrah, now, for the honour of Munster, be any, ye brats of the devil's own begetting!”
“Hear him! hear him! hear the umpire!” resounded from all quarters.
“May the devil make hell-broth of ye both, in his own caldron!”
The mirth of the multitude became now still more obstreperous, and Tom and Bob pushed forward to the assistance of their friend, who was in the act of keeping the two viragos apart from each other, having a hand on each, and holding them at arms length, alternately threatening and remonstrating, while the two nymphs, with frightful grimaces, struggled to elude his grasp, and abide the chance of war;—the scene altogether would have afforded ample scope for the pencil of an artist; and if not edifying, was at least to a numerous and motley assemblage of spectators, highly entertaining. Sir Felix declined the assistance of his friends,—
“Never mind it,” said he, “I'll settle the affair myself, my honies:” and slipping a half-crown piece into the hand of each of the amazons—“Now be off wid you,” he whispered,—“lave the Park immediately;—away to the gin-shop;—shake hands wid each other in friendship; and drink good-luck to Sir Felix O'Grady.”