Part 3

_Irish Keeper._ He has no mate, sorr. We just fade him on fish.

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A POINT TO THE GOOD.--SCENE--_Immediately after a Point-to-Point Race_--_Friend (to Rider of Winner)._ "By Jove, old chap, that was a close race! Thought you were beaten just on the post."

_Rider_ (_Irish_). "Faith, me boy, that dimonstrates the advantage of a big horse; for, if ye saw the tail of him a thrifle behind, shure the other end of him was a wee bit in front?"

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CONFESSION IN CONFUSION.--_Priest._ "Now, tell me, Doolan, truthfully, how often _do_ you go to chapel?"

_Pat._ "Will, now, shure, oi'll till yer riv'rince the trut'. Faix, I go as often as I can avoid!"

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_School Inspector (anxious to explain the nature of a falsehood)._ Now, supposing I brought you a canary, and told you it was blue, what would that be?

_Student (with taste for natural history)._ Please, sir, a tomtit.

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IRISH ITEM.--There have been floods in Cork. Cork, as usual, kept afloat notwithstanding.

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PUNCH'S FOLK-LORE

ST. PATRICK'S DAY

The season of spring gives us lamb and violets, salmon and patron saints. St. David and St. Patrick are commemorated in March, St. George only waits until April. (Of this last-named saint a very careful notice has for some time been in preparation, to include six autobiographical anecdotes of his boyish days, a selection from his unpublished correspondence with his laundress, and an authentic portrait of his chief antagonist--the Dragon.)

St. Patrick's Day! the heart leaps up with uncontrolled delight, and a flood of popular airs comes rushing o'er the brain. What reminiscences of by-gone days invade the territory of the mind! All the population of Dublin, headed by the Lord-Lieutenant and Ulster King-at-Arms, abroad at daybreak, looking for four-leaved shamrocks in the Ph[oe]nix Park, and singing Moore's _Melodies_ in unison; an agreeable mixture of whiskey and water provided in unlimited quantities in every market town in Ireland, the expense of the water being defrayed out of the Consolidated Fund; the Lord Mayor of Dublin presented with a new shillelagh of polished oak, bound with brass, purchased by the united contributions of every grown-up citizen bearing the name of Patrick; the constabulary in new boots; a public dinner on the Blarney Stone, and a fancy-dress ball on the Wicklow Mountains! These are but a few of the marks of distinction showered on this memorable day by Erin's grateful sons and daughters, who owe to St. Patrick two of the greatest distinctions that ever befell them--freedom from serpents, snakes, scorpions, efts, newts, tadpoles, chameleons, salamanders, daddy-long-legs, and all other venomous reptiles, and instruction in six lessons, in "the true art of mixing their liquor, an art," it has been well observed, "which has never since been lost."

This leaning of the Saint to potheen is viewed, however, by one section of the community with manifest displeasure--the Temperance and Teetotal Societies--who remain indoors the whole of the day with the blinds closely drawn down and straw in front of their houses, and employ paid emissaries to distribute tracts amongst their excitable countrymen.

The notorious fact that St. Patrick lived to be considerably more than a hundred, cut a wisdom tooth at ninety-eight, never had a day's illness in his life, was possessed of funded property, and could see to read without spectacles until within six weeks of his untimely end (caused by a fall from a cherry tree), speaks libraries for the tonic and salubrious qualities of that stimulating spirit, which has ever since his day been known and highly appreciated under the name of "L.L.," or Long Livers' Whiskey.

A curious custom is kept up by the Knights of the Order of St. Patrick (founded by King Brian Boroo the Fourteenth) on the morning of this day, the origin of which is lost among the wilds of Connemara. Before it is light the Knights all go up in their robes and shamrocks, one by one, into the belfry of the Cathedral, and toll the great bell one hundred and twenty-three times, the exact number of years to which the Saint, in forgetfulness of Sir George Cornwall Lewis and the Editor of _Notes and Queries_, is said to have attained. They then parade the principal streets of Dublin on piebald horses, preceded by a band of music and the Law Officers of the Crown, and disperse at a moment's notice, no one knows where.

St. Patrick's tastes were athletic. He had a wart on his forehead, and a cousin in the militia; and displayed a profound acquaintance with the laws of short whist, then in its infancy. He was an early riser, a deep thinker, and a careless dresser, and foresaw, with an eagle glance, the gradual development of the railway system, while his declining years were soothed by the devoted attentions of some of the oldest families in Ireland.

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NEW BULLS _v._ OLD COWS.--At the Thames Police Court Mr. Benson condemned the owner and vendor of a quantity of old Irish cow beef to penalties for selling meat unfit for human consumption. This should be a warning to all whom it may concern, that though new Irish bulls may be introduced freely, and even be relished in this country, there is no toleration for old Irish cows on this side St. George's Channel.

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P.I.P.

(_Perfectly Impossible Pulp_)

THE ROYAL VISIT TO IRELAND

No doubt some of our readers have been, at one time or another, in Ireland, especially those who were born there. It is hoped, however, that the following notes may be of some value to those whose attention has now for the first time been attracted to this country by the King's visit.

Many, however, will remember that not very long ago Ireland was the scene of perhaps the most bloodless and humane motor-car encounters of modern times.

The inhabitants of the island (who consist of men, women, and children of both sexes) are full of native character. They are generally fond of animals, especially pigs and "bulls." These latter wear what is known as a Celtic fringe on the forehead.

The principal exports are emigrants, M.P.s, shamrocks, Dublin Fusiliers, Field Marshals, real lace, and cigars.

A full list of "Previous Royal Visits to Ireland and other Countries" will be found in another column of some other paper.

Dublin is the capital of the country, and is pronounced very much like the English word "doubling," with the final "g" omitted.

The tourist will find the language difficulty comparatively easy, as English is now spoken in most of the large shops.

A few phrases, such as "Erin go bragh," "Begorra ye spalpeen," "Acushla mavourneen," &c., are easily learnt, and the trouble involved is amply repaid in the simple joy of the natives on hearing a foreigner speak their own language.

English gold is accepted in Ireland, and the rate of exchange works out at twenty shillings to the sovereign. Two sixpences will always be accepted in lieu of a shilling.

N.B.--To avoid disappointment to naturalists and others we think it right to mention that since the late raid of St. Patrick there are no snakes of first-rate quality in Ireland.

"THE FINEST PLEASANTRY IN THE WORLD"

[" ... the Court was in an uproar from the moment the magistrates took their seats.... Counsel for the Crown was rudely interrupted by the defendants ... much to the delight of the crowd.... After some particularly riotous scenes the police were called on to clear the court.... One of the defendants was supplied with meat and bread in court."--_Globe._]

_Counsel for the Crown._ The prisoners are charged----

_A Defendant._ Charged a dale too much for their accommodation. Oi'd loike a bit o' lunch to go on wid. Oi havn't aten a morsel since last time.

[_Loud cries of "Shame on the polis for shtarvin' of um!" "Shtick up for yer roights, avick!" "To h----wid the magisthrates!"_

_Chairman of the Bench._ If these observations are repeated, I shall clear the court.

_Second Defendant._ Arrah thin, clear yer own muddy brain first!

_Chairman (indignantly)._ Are these indecent interruptions to continue?

_Third Defendant._ 'Coorse they are.

_First Defendant._ Oi tell ye O'im shtarvin for me lunch. Oi'll take a sandwich and a shmall bottle o' porther.

[_Refreshments brought in by order of the magistrates. Defendants indulge in a sort of "free-and-easy" picnic in the solicitors' well, after which they light dirty clay pipes. Crowd bursts into loud cheers._

_Counsel for the Crown (resuming)._ As I was saying, the defendants are charged with intimidation in this neighbourhood, and so complete has been their system that up to the present moment none of our witnesses have dared to venture near the precincts of the court. We have, however, now endeavoured to get them here by the aid of the police and a small covered van. If we succeed in this----

_First Defendant._ Ye will not. Whativer decision these fat-headed magistrates give, we shan't obey ut. Even if they acquitted us, _we wouldn't walk out o' the coort_! Ould Oireland for iver!

[_Vociferous cheering, in the midst of which the court was cleared, and the magistrates, under police protection, left for home._

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THE SAXON OPPRESSOR.--_Saxon Tourist._ "I suppose the English buy all the pigs that you wish to sell?"

_Irish Peasant._ "They do. Bad luck to 'em, the toirants!"

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FROM SHANNON SHORE.--We extract the following momentous announcement from the _Western Daily Press_:--

"An Irish Member tells me that the motor craze is causing a revival of the Limerick lace trade. This particular kind of lace is, it is said, the best protection that a lady can have for her complexion when she is engaged in breaking the speech limit."

The information must be authentic, for there is no authority like an Irish Member where the "speech limit" is concerned.

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AN IRISH BULL ON THE LINE.--"The directors of the Dublin, Wicklow and Wexford Railway Company are prepared to receive tenders for the purchase of about 750 tons of old steel rails and permanent way scrap. The directors do not bind themselves to accept the _lowest_ or any tender."--[Italics by _Mr. Punch_.]

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