A LITTLE SHOOTING IN IRELAND.
"NO HIT AGAIN, I'M AFRAID, TIM!"
"O, NIVER MIND, YER 'ONOR! SURE, YE DO IT VERY NIST. THERE'S SOME JINTLEMEN NOW COMES, AND THEY BLAZE AWAY, AND THEY WOWNDES THE POOR BIRRDS IN THE LIGS AND THE WINGS, AND SUCH LIKE; BUT YER 'ONOR! O, YE FIRES, AND FIRES, AND ALWAYS MISSES 'EM CLANE AND CLEVER!"
LITTLE DINNER AT GREENWICH.
Fish Swell. "HERE, WAITAW!—ARE THE WHITEMEN PRETTY GOOD?"
AFTER THE BATH.
