“But a right good one too,” rejoined old Cuff.—“Reddy knew that Charley would rather give fifty yellow boys than stand half a shot, let alone a couple. I’ll answer for it Reddy knows what he is about:” and so it proved.
My self-elected second returned that evening with Charley White’s groom, to take back the horse; and he brought me my ten guineas. On my thanking him, and holding out my hand to receive them, after a moment’s hesitation, he said, “You don’t want them for a day or two, do you?”
Taken completely by surprise, I answered involuntarily, “No.”
“Well, then,” said my friend Reddy, “I am going to the races of Roscrea, and I won’t give you the ten till I come back. It’s all one to you, you know?” added he, begging the question.
It was not all one to me: however, I was too proud or rather silly to gainsay him, and he put the pieces into his purse with a number of similar companions, and went to the races of Roscrea, where he was soon disburdened of them all, and contracted sundry obligations into the bargain. I was necessitated to go home, and never saw him after. He died very soon, and bequeathed me an excellent chestnut hunter, called Spred, with Otter, a water-dog of singular talents. I was well pleased when I heard of this; but, on inquiry, found they were lapsed legacies, as the horse had died of the glanders a year before, and the dog had run mad, and was hanged long ere the departure of his master. I suppose, when death was torturing poor Reddy, (for he died of the gout in his head,) he forgot that the horse had been then skinned more than a twelvemonth.
BULLETIN EXTRAORDINARY.
The author and Counsellor Moore laid by the heels at Rock House—Dismal apprehensions—A recipe and recovery—The races of Castlebar—The author forms a party to visit the spot—Members of the party described—Serjeant Butler and the doctor—Differences of opinion—The serjeant’s bulletin of the famous battle of Castlebar.
After fifteen days of one of the hottest election contests I had ever witnessed, I accompanied my friend, Counsellor Moore, to his aunt’s, (Mrs. Burke of Rock House, Castlebar,) where plenty, hospitality, and the kindest attentions would have soon made amends for our past misfortunes.—But ill luck would not remit so suddenly:—we had both got a Mayo chill on us, from the effects whereof, not even abundance of good claret and hot punch could protect us.
We had retired to rest after a most joyous festivity, when Moore (who had not been two hours in bed) was roused by the excruciating tortures of an inflammation of the stomach; and in less than half an hour after I heard his first groan, I found my own breath rapidly forsaking me; pins and needles seemed to be darting across my chest in all directions, and it was quite clear that another inflammation had taken a fancy to my lungs without giving the slightest notice. I could scarcely articulate, though my pains were not so very great as those of my poor friend: but I lost half the power of respiring, and had not even the consolation of being able to moan so loud as he. This was truly mortifying; but I contrived to thump strongly against the wainscot, which being hollow, proved an excellent conductor. The family took for granted that the house was on fire, or that some thief or ghost had appeared; and, roused up by different conjectures, its members of each sex, age, and rank, quickly rushed into our room screeching, and jostling each other, as they followed the old man-servant, who, with a hatchet in his hand, came on most valiantly. None waited for the ceremony of the toilet; but approached just as they had quitted their couches—not even a “blanket” being “in the alarm of fear caught up.”
The first follower of the old footman was a fat cook of Mrs. Burke’s, Honor O’Maily, who, on learning the cause of the uproar, immediately commenced clearing herself from any suspicion of poisoning; and cursing herself, without any reservation as to saints and devils, if the victuals, as she dressed them, were not sweet, good, and right wholesome: her pepper and salt, she vowed, had been in the house a fortnight before, and both the fritters and pancakes were fried in her own drippings!