I ought to bless that day when Sir Tallyhoo Rackrent lost a fine hunter
and his life, all in one day's hunt, for the estate came straight into
_the_ family, upon one condition, that Sir Patrick O'Shaughlin (whose
driver my grandfather was) should, by Act of Parliament, take the
surname and arms of Rackrent.

Now it was the world could see what was in Sir Patrick. He gave the
finest entertainments ever was heard of in the country; not a man could
stand after supper but Sir Patrick himself. He had his house, from one
year's end to another, as full of company as it would hold; and this
went on, I can't tell you how long.

But one year, on his birthday, just as the company rose to drink his
health, he fell down in a sort of fit, and in the morning it was all
over with poor Sir Patrick.

Never did any gentleman die more beloved by rich and poor. All the
gentlemen in the three counties came to his funeral; and happy the man
who could get but a sight of the hearse!

Just as they were passing through his own town the body was seized for
debt! Little gain had the creditors!

First and foremost, they had the curses of the country, and Sir Murtagh,
the new heir, refused to pay a shilling on account of the insult to his
father's body; in which he was countenanced by all the gentlemen of
property of his acquaintance. He did not take at all after the old
gentleman. The cellars were never filled, and no open house; even the
tenants were sent away without their whiskey. I was ashamed myself, but