How short-sighted are we mortals, whether enjoying all the pump and state
of royalty, or marching like myself at the head of a company of his
Majesty's 4_th.

Little, indeed, did I anticipate that the Siberia to which I fancied I
was condemned should turn out the happiest quarters my fate ever threw me
into. But this, including as it does, one of the most important events
of my life, I reserve for another chapter.--

"What is that place called, Sergeant?"--"Bunratty Castle, sir,"

"Where do we breakfast?"--"At Clare Island, sir."

"March away, boys!"



CHAPTER II.

DETACHMENT DUTY--THE BURTON ARMS--CALLONBY.

For a week after my arrival at Kilrush, my life was one of the most
dreary monotony. The rain, which had begun to fall as I left Limerick,
continued to descend in torrents, and I found myself a close prisoner in
the sanded parlour of "mine inn." At no time would such "durance vile"
have been agreeable; but now, when I contrasted it with all I had left
behind at head quarters, it was absolutely maddening. The pleasant
lounge in the morning, the social mess, and the agreeable evening party,
were all exchanged for a short promenade of fourteen feet in one