Where love, just like whiskey, popp'd into my brain;
For Ally Magoolagh, a nate little sowl,
As tall and as strate as a shaverman's pole!'
'Augh! thin, was she?' says a voice that I cudn't see, tho' 'twas close to my left ear! 'Who's there?' says I. 'Where?' says it, on th' other side. 'Anywhere,' says I, 'to plaze ye;' and wid that I fell into a could sweat, for I began to think it was Mihilmas Eve, an' divil a grain of salt I had about me to keep me from harm! 'Crass o' Christ on us!' says I, 'an' God bless ye!' for I thought it was one of the good people, yir honor! so I made up my mind to get in-doors as soon as I could. But that wasn't so aisy as wishin', for there wasn't a village nearer than five miles, nor a cabin by the way-side. At last I spies a light at a distance in the fields aff the road, and away we set, I and my horse, full gallup. Oh! many's the ditch we cleared without seein'; but still, never a bit did we come nearer to the light! 'Is it a Will,' says I to myself, 'or a Jack?' an' wid that out it goes on a suddent, and laves me up to my chin in a bog. Augh! then, hadn't I a cruel time of it there? I was, for all the world, like a flay on Father Fogarty's pock-mark'd nose, or a blind horse in a tan-yard,—no sooner out o' one hole than into another! At last I got upon dry land, and wasn't I thankful for that same? for I got hoult ov a stone wall that directed me straight on to a gate that was only hasp'd; so I opened it, an' let myself out upon a rodeiene, that I knew by the tracks o' the wheels; so, turnin' myself round three times for look, (and bad look it was,) I steps out into a ditch that was handy by the way-side,—for it was acrass the rodeiene I went 'stead of lengthways either up or down; but how could I do betther in the dark? Well, afther a while floundherin' about like a litther of pups in a bag, I got on my feet agen clane out o' the mud, shiverin' an' shakin' as if I had Jack Nulty's ague 'pon me! 'Well,' says I to myself, 'it was looky I stopp'd to have a drop at the berrin', or I'd av' nothin' to keep the could out o' me now! It was Providence as well as dacency that put it into my head!"
"If you had not stopped," said I, "you would not have been overtaken by the night, and exposed to such a disagreeable accident!"
"Well, sure, yir honor," replied Darby, "somethin' else might av' happened, an' who knows but it might 'a been worse?—there's no sayin' or accountin' for such things. Well, be that as it may, I began to walk on, feelin' afore me width my horse (that never forsook me all the time) whether I was in the right road or not, till at last I comes all ov a suddent into the middle o' the town o' Lanesbro', with raal candles (none ov yir wisps or lantherns) burnin' in every window. Maybe I didn't know where I was then! So, mountin' my horse, sir, strad-legs, away I canther'd, blessin' my stars that I got on my journey so well and so far, width only a wettin' in the bog-holes an' ditches, and a scratch or two on my hands an' cheeks, that I made nothin' ov. 'Where will we put up for the night,' says I to my horse; but yir honor knows the crathur cudn't answer me: so I tuk my own advice, an' went sthraight to 'The Cat and Bagpipes.' 'Will I get a lodgin' here the night?' says I to the lan'lady.—'Who are ye?' says she.—'Who am I!' I says; 'I'm yir honor's servant, on a mission,' says I, mentionin' yir name, masther.—'Can ye pay for a bed?' says she.—'Can money do it?' says I.—'To be sure,' says she.—'Then, look here,' says I; an' wid that I show'd her four and sixpence—for I only spent sixpence at the berrin'.—'Go into the kitchen,' says she, 'an' I'll see what I can do for ye.'—'Thank ye, ma'am,' says I. So I goes my ways into the kitchen, and sits down by the hob. That was very agreeable for a time; but, when I dried myself, an' wanted to go to bed after a drop or two, how d'ye think they sarved me? only sure, yir honor, by putting me in bed with a furrener,—nothin' more nor less than a black, savin' yir presence,—for it was the fair night o' the town, and beds were scarce, an' not to be had for love or money; so I was oblidged to sleep double, plaze ye, sir, in a two-bedded room. They tould me he was only a sweep; but he turned out to be a raal black, to my sorrow!"
"In what way?" inquired I.
"Oh! in many ways, sir," replied Darby. "First and forenenst, he prevented me takin' my natural rest afore midnight; for I took a Bible oath on a child's catechism that I wouldn't enther the room where he was afore the good people were gone to roost; for who knows what they might have made of me? Lord bless ye! they'd av' turn'd every hair o' my head into pump-handles, if they liked, afore morn! so I thought it best to sit up a while, an' kick up a bit ov a dance in the kitchen width Katheen the maid, an' two or three other spreesans that were inclined for the fun; an' fine sport we had, to be sure, to the tune of 'The Hare in the Corn,' and 'Roger de Cuvverly,'—did ye ever trip it to 'Roger de Cuvverly,' yir honor? Oh! it's an illigant cure for the gout!"
"I never dance," said I.