“By Jupither Amond!” exclaimed he of the white apron, “this beats all the playin’ I ever heerd in my life! Arrah, do ye ever attind the nobility’s concerts?—Ha! ha! ha!”
“’Pon my voracity,” cried the smiling housemaid, “I am greatly afeerd he will get ‘piper’s pay—more kicks than halfpence.’—Ha! ha! ha!”
“An’ good enough for him!” added the gardener; “a fella that has but three half thunes in the world, an’ none ov them right! Arrah, what’s yer name, avie?”
“What’s that to you?” growled the piper.
“Oh, nothin’! Only I thought that you might be ‘the piper that played before Moses.’—Ha! ha! ha!”
“Oh! the world may wag
Since he got the bag,”
sang the cook, as she returned to her avocations. But the butler, as master of the ceremonies, showed his disappointment and displeasure in a summary ejection of the unfortunate minstrel from the comforts of the fire and the house altogether.
Again I had the exquisite delight of hearing Tim Callaghan. It was in another part of our county, and where he was quite a stranger. A lady had assembled a number of young persons to a sea-side dance one evening; but, alas! ere the hour of meeting arrived, she had heard that the fiddler she expected was ill, and could not possibly attend her. What was to be done? Nothing!
When the guests arrived, and the dire news communicated, the gentlemen in spite of themselves looked terrifically glum, as if they anticipated a dull evening; and the bright countenances of the ladies were overcast, though as usual, sweet creatures! they tried to look delightful under all visitations. In this dilemma one of the beaux suddenly recollected that “he had seen a piper coming into the village that evening; and he thought it was probable he would stop for the night at one of the public-houses.” Hope instantly illuminated all faces, and a messenger was forthwith dispatched for the man of music. For my part, whenever I heard a piper mentioned, I knew who was full before me.