And she wasn’t quite content with that: she rushed from out the byre,
Her horns curled up in anger, and her mighty tail on fire;
She seized (with cool indifference to very touching groans)
Malone around the waist and smashed his most important bones;
And when the jury gathered round his mangled fragments there,
And his friends had somehow recognized the mush of skin and hair,
That jury placed Pat Duggan’s cow on very heavy bail,
Because in their opinion she had rather too much tail.
And this is how, in Macaroon, it strangely came to pass,
That Pat Duggan, unmolested still, pursued his way to mass;
And that cow was so respected that no bigot would offend her
Bovine susceptibilities with shouts of “no surrender.”
Why, even on the glorious, immortal twelfth July,
The enthusiastic drummers in dread silence pass her by;
They would rather that the glory they commemorate should pale,
Than again tempt Duggan’s awful cow to exercise her tail.
THE SEA-SICK SUB-COMMISSIONERS.
[In the Common Pleas Division of the High Court of Justice, during the League agitation, the court heard an application on behalf of the Earl of Bantry to substitute service on twenty-one tenants on the Island of Dersey, about a quarter of a mile from the main land, in the barony of Bore, county of Cork. Counsel said that the island was so inaccessible that rents had not been collected there for over two years. Mr. Justice Harrison asked how were the Land Commissioners to get over when they went down to fix fair rents? Counsel said that they would find it difficult enough to get off. The place was so wild that it was only on fine days it was possible to cross Dersey Sound. They went over, however, and these verses record the exploit:]
THERE were three Sub-Commissioners went sailing sou-sou-west,
With due responsibility on each official breast,
To the lonely isle of Dersey they travelled with intent
To investigate and regulate each pining tenant’s rent.
Oh, Moses! how the tempest blew adown the channel wild,
It made the oldest lawyer feel as helpless as a child,
Whilst the chairman had to exercise the greatest legal tact,
For fear his conscience might disgorge a portion of the Act.
They felt, did those commissioners, such physical defaults
As the toper who indulges by mistake in Epsom salts,
And not upon the future were their aspirations cast,
They wanted first to scatter round some relics of the past.
The fish that followed in their wake, cod, mackerel, and fluke,
Had never witnessed so much bait before without a hook,
They were ignorant entirely of the all-important fact
That their unexpected dejeuner was owing to the Act.
They were very sick commissioners upon those troubled seas,
There was something quite seditious in the waves and in the breeze,
And when their tottering footsteps pressed on solid earth once more,
They used up all their handkerchiefs on Dersey’s barren shore,
And they couldn’t relish joyfully the wild delirious sport
That awaited but their presence in the Land Commission Court;
They wanted all to go to bed, and miserably lacked
The enthusiastic courage to administer the Act.
They seemed, those Sub-Commissioners, more circumspect than gay
While hearing Irish evidence interpreted all day,
Although alternate intervals were taken to allow
Opportunities to each of them to wipe his clammy brow.
That evening, at supper, they sought vainly to conceal
A variety of feelings unbecoming to that meal;
And when they sought their couches, with their constitutions racked,
They had tortures worse than striving to elucidate the Act.
CAOINE OF THE CLARE CONSTABULARY.
SO, you’re goin’ out to Aigypt, wirrasthrue!
An’ we’ll niver see your faytures any more,
Millia murther! what in thunder shall we do
Whin you turn your crookid back upon our shore?
All innocint divarsion with yourself will be departin’
An’ existence will become a dreary void;
Ochone an’ ullagone! we must vainly sigh an’ groan;
Philalu! a long adieu to Clifford Lloyd!