over the regiment--"Killed by the mayor and corporation," had we so
fallen.

First of all, we were dined by the citizens of Cork--and, to do them
justice, a harder drinking set of gentlemen no city need boast; then we
were feasted by the corporation; then by the sheriffs; then came the
mayor, solus; then an address, with a cold collation, that left eight of
us on the sick-list for a fortnight; but the climax of all was a grand
entertainment given in the mansion-house, and to which upwards of two
thousand were invited. It was a species of fancy ball, beginning by a
dejeune at three o'clock in the afternoon, and ending--I never yet met
the man who could tell when it ended; as for myself, my finale partook a
little of the adventurous, and I may as well relate it.

After waltzing for about an hour with one of the prettiest girls I ever
set eyes upon, and getting a tender squeeze of the hand, as I restored
her to a most affable-looking old lady in a blue turban and a red velvet
gown who smiled most benignly on me, and called me "Meejor," I retired to
recruit for a new attack, to a small table, where three of ours were
quaffing "ponche a la Romaine," with a crowd of Corkagians about them,
eagerly inquiring after some heroes of their own city, whose deeds of
arms they were surprised did not obtain special mention from "the Duke."
I soon ingratiated myself into this well-occupied clique, and dosed them
with glory to their hearts' content. I resolved at once to enter into
their humour; and as the "ponche" mounted up to my brain I gradually
found my acquaintanceship extend to every family and connexion in the
country.

"Did ye know Phil Beamish of the 3_th, sir?" said a tall, red-faced,
red-whiskered, well-looking gentleman, who bore no slight resemblance