“Ough! the devil a taste was left from the Newport voters, barring what we kept for the counsellors.”
“And have you literally nothing, Mr. Martin?” demanded we.
“All as one,” was the reply. “Sir Neil’s men got the last of the meat; and a minute or two ago, who should come in—devil’s cure to him! but Denis Brown Sallough’s body-sarvant, and pretended, the villain, that he was Sir Neil’s man; and he bought all the rest of the bread and tay for ready money. If I had thought, counsellors, of the incivility my sow put on yees—bad luck to her sowl, egg and bird!—I’d have seen Denis Brown Sallough’s body-sarvant carded like a tithe proctor[[25]] before I’d have sold him as much as would fill a hollow tooth—and by my sowl he has plenty of them, counsellors dear!”
[25]. Carding the tithe proctors (who certainly were the genuine tyrants of Ireland) was occasionally resorted to by the White Boys, and was performed in the following manner.
The tithe proctor was generally waked out of his first sleep by his door being smashed in; and the boys in white shirts desired him “never to fear,” as they only intended to card him this bout for taking a quarter instead of a tenth from every poor man in the parish. They then turned him on his face upon the bed; and taking a lively ram cat out of a bag which they brought with them, they set the cat between the proctor’s shoulders. The beast, being nearly as much terrified as the proctor, would endeavour to get off; but being held fast by the tail, he intrenched every claw deep in the proctor’s back, in order to keep up a firm resistance to the White Boys. The more the tail was pulled back, the more the ram cat tried to go forward; at length, when he had, as he conceived, made his possession quite secure, main force convinced him to the contrary, and that if he kept his hold he must lose his tail. So, he was dragged backward to the proctor’s loins, grappling at every pull, and bringing away here and there strips of the proctor’s skin, to prove the pertinacity of his defence.
When the ram cat had got down to the loins he was once more placed at the shoulders, and again carded the proctor (toties quoties) according to his sentence.
“Have you no eggs, Mr. Martin?”
“Why, plase your honour, it’s not two hours since the high sheriff’s cook (as he called himself) came and took every cock and hen I had in the world (he paid like a gentleman, to be sure), for he has a great dinner to-day, and being disappointed of poultry, he kilt every mother’s babe of mine, gentlemen.”