'Tis eve; both armies slow retire, seem further strife to shun, They form again and stand aloof, as when the fight begun;

The king, our hero, called and said "Kneel, thou can'st hunt and fight, Sir Richard Shuckburgh, a true and valiant knight.

Rise

up

"

TALES OF THE ROAD.

BY FITZ.

In introducing to my readers stories connected with the road, I must also present them, in due form, to my story-telling informant. Reader, allow me to introduce Mr. Michael Lake. "

"Mr. Lake, this is one of my readers.'

And now that the ceremony is over, I think it right, lest you should imagine I have introduced you into bad company, to inform you that before we were blessed, or otherwise, as folk will have it, with railways, a very respectably four-horsed and admirably managed day coach plied from Dublin to the city of the violated treaty, yclept Limerick, and vice versa; and upon this lugubrious six-mile-an-hour "leathern conveniency" was located a tall muscular six-foot-four guard, who was no other than my friend and many-a-time companion, Misther Mick Lake. Nothing could exceed him in practical joking or telling stories; the former he carried to the most extreme point, and with the latter he so amused his passengers, that, wet or dry, those who knew Mick would much rather stand the chance of a wet skin outside with him, than inside and protected from the pelting of the pitiless storm. When he made up his mind to tell you a good one, he wound himself up like a clock, and went on tick! tick! until he finished with giving you the " time of day" in good earnest. His powers of talk were unlimited, and what astonished his hearers was the brilliant traits of invention he gave you such splendid and amusing ensamples of. He pourtrayed the Milesian gentlemen of his acquaintance as of a genealogy descended from ancient Irish kings, men susceptible of feelings warm as their dispositions were generous, hospitable to a fault, and to strangers sensitively anxious to evince the courtesies of personal respect. The fame he acquired as a story-teller brought many distinguished characters from the inside to the top of the coach; nor did his employers lose any

Richard Shuckburgh, knighted by the king immediately after the battle. It was fought on Sunday, October 23rd, 1642, and nearly 6,000 slain were left on the field. Though not decisive, it was tantamount to a defeat to Essex, for he signally failed in effecting the great object he had in view, that of preventing the King's march to London; and, but for Prince Rupert's rash pursuit, the King probably would have gained a complete victory, ruined the rebel cause at once, and prevented the troubles that ensued. My father used to relate with great glee some traditionary gossip current in that neighbourhood respecting Cromwell, who, then undetermined which side to take, clambered up into a church steeple in that locality, from whence at a distance he could survey the battle, and watch the turn of events, and judging from the commencement of it that the Parliament forces would be utterly routed, either from policy or cowardice he hurried quickly down from his watch tower and ran away.

thing by this circumstance, as inside fare was always paid for outward. accommodation.

I never shall forget the first time that I travelled on the " Day" with Mick. I was quite a stranger on the road, and never to my recollection laid an eye on my guard before that morning. It was in neither autumn nor winter, but that sultry drowsiness of season between one and the other; the sun was struggling to throw off the heaps of blanketty clouds in which he was enveloped even to the tip of his nose, and the fogs of the low flat grounds around Limerick were to my vision stretched along the clouds like immense wet linsey-wolsey sheets, which seemed to struggle upwards as "Sol" rose to dry them up with the light of his countenance. The consequence was that all the "outsides" were made up for such a morning; the collars of the coats met the rims of the hats; but what was between them in the shape of a face, it was some time, and not until the morning cleared up, that we could discover. Mick disdained to let his collar rise, but his neck and half his face, up to his eyes, was shawled three deep, and his wide-leafed hat slouched tight over his aforesaid optics. At length, as the sun shook himself out of his morning wrapper, we began to clear up and chat together.

"What do you think of the day, guard ?" said I.

"I was not thinking anything about it, sir," said he, with an indescribable look-half simple, half roguish.

Something struck me about the appearance of my man, that I said— "By the bye, guard, may I ask your name?"

Indeed you may, sir, and welcome," was the reply.

I saw at once that I " fell down on a character," and as I was determined to draw him out, I humoured him to the top of his bent; so I said at once," Then what is your name!"

"Michael Lake, with submission to you," said he, with a profound

bow.

What," said I, "the Lakes of Clare!"

"Not a bit of it!" said he, with an assumed air of offended dignity; "but of a more noble and a dale oulder family-the Lakes of Killarney!"

This was the commencement of the day's fun. We enjoyed the hit he made at me, and the conversation and joking became fast and furious, our" protector" letting fly every minute some original shaft of wit, which never annoyed even those it hit, as the honey was much more predominant in the sting than gall.

In the course of our conversation, when I remarked how pleasant it was to have such a droll fellow to keep us alive, he elevated his eyebrows in his own particular style of surprise, and said, "Yea, then, tell me sir, how can such a person as me, or even Dimpsey there, that always is in advance of me a-driving the horses, be any morsel of use, so as to have you buttering us up; sure the likes of us coachmen and guards are only the et-ceteras of society."

"The what, Mick ?" said I.

"The et-ceteras, sir; and sure I'll prove it," said he, with the utmost composure. "Did your honour ever buy the Mail-I means the Evening Mail, the newspaper that goes so fast in Dublin, you know." I nodded assent, quite out of my element, and anxious to know what was to be newly propounded.

"Well then," says he, " if you did, of course you looked for a grand entertainment at the Manshun House, or something of that kind; because next to eating the good things of life, or mixing with great people, there's nothing folks like so much as reading about them. Well, stop, don't interrupt me, or you'll spoil my story. Then if you found it out, you saw it with The Lord Mayor in the chair, supported on the right by Lord This and Sir Darby That, and the Honourable Mr. Theother, while on his left was Major Idonowho, and Colonel Youdonowho, and Mr. Nobody knewwho, M.P., &c., &c., &c.' Now, sir, all the et-ceteras that fills up the remainder, means that the rest were people nobody cared about, who if put in the paper wouldn't pay; and so with us, sirDimpsey and me-when Mr. Boren looks over the way-bill-for that's his newspaper-he reads Colonel Somebody inside booked for four, and all the names of the gentlemen outside at full, not forgetting the luggage them pays, sir; and though Dimpsey and I's outside, you see, sir, we are only et-ceteras, as we don't pay; and if that ain't plain, sir, then my name ain't Mick Lake."

There was no contravening this style of argumentative reasoning, so we all agreed with a hearty laugh that he was right; and with such humorous snatches from Mick's witty pate I passed the first day I ever had the honour of his acquaintance.

The next day (I was perched as an outsider) was one I never shall forget, and the events of which I will now recapitulate as it is now reflected back by memory-" Time's Looking Glass."

It was in the year 182-, that I was starting from Limerick on the roof of the "Day," to put in one of my terms in Dublin. The morning was of that dark drizzling character most calculated to put a man in rather an unamiable temper. Mick was never so affected; he was too well used to all sorts of weather to care much whether it would clear up or not, and he never had any intention of letting the ill-humour of another throw the slightest shade on his equanimity. On my arrival at Moriarty's (now Cruise's) Hotel, I found there, amongst other passengers assembled, a certain Captain R-, from Cork, who previously held a government situation there in the Ordnance department, and who, I had learned a short time previously, had been promoted to a more lucrative post in the Irish metropolis. But I must describe the Captain.

He was between 50 and 55 years of age-stood about four feet four or five in his boots-and sported as jolly a looking phiz as ever was sketched by Cruickshank; he was good-humoured, but irritable-highly irritable, sir-and as jealous of his honour as a nun. One look at him, and you knew your man. His nose, round and plump, was what many considered large, and the essence of many a bottle of crusted port seemed concentrated in the-I was near writing point-top thereof. He was rather full in person, on which, indeed, he was often joked by his brother officers. One story in particular was freely told at many a messtable relative to the Captain's rotundity of figure. Having drank rather freely one night at a Temperance Ball in the old Court House at Cork, on his arrival at barracks he lay in the passage between his sitting and bedroom, the latter of which he failed to gain; early next morning the washerwoman called, and proceeding to the passage where the soiled clothes were generally left rolled up for her, she made several fruitless attempts to carry the Captain off, and even, it is said,

succeeded in dragging him by his sash to the sitting-room.

But this was only a story after all, which the Captain always denied, at the same time vehemently protesting that he never could hold as much as would put him under the table.

On the present occasion he was accompanied by his wife, a nice young bustling little body, who seemed to be the soul of fun itself. Her lord and master (?), with that gallantry inherent in all the red-coats (albeit it was whispered that he was Caudleized), had already handed her into the coach, where comfortably wrapped in shawls she patiently waited for him while he was superintending the management of their luggage. Suddenly our ears were startled by a scream or half-suppressed cry from the interior of the coach, followed by a confused talking from the same locality: when on proceeding to ascertain the cause, there I saw the Captain with all the desperation of an insulted husband, and with the energy and strength of four feet five, pulling at the hinder portion of some individual who was now half concealed in the inside of the vehicle. On the party's gaining "terra firma," and extricating himself from the coach and the Captain, he was assailed by a torrent of queries and excitable language, from which the worst consequences were to be inferred. "D-n you, sir, who are you? What brought you here-eh? I must have satisfaction for this unwarrantable insult offered my wife! Do you hear me?"

The gentleman, evidently an Englishman, in vain assured the Captain that he offered no insult;" in fact that " he merely stumbled getting into the coach, and fell on the lady's feet; he was sure she would acquit him of any intention of insulting her," &c., &c. But no-it would not do. "D-n the fellow-coming to insult ladies-But he'd teach him--He'd riddle him by G-d as soon as ever the coach arrived at Nenagh."

But scenes of this description in those days were too common to excite any extraordinary interest in the lookers-on. The coach should start; so off we rattled, the Captain and his lady inside, and the English gentleman outside, sitting next Lake, and opposite to me and another

person.

We did not proceed far before I perceived by the twinkle of Mick's eye that he was racking his brain, calculating how he could best avail himself of the bit of a scrimmage" to play off one of his everlasting practical jokes. How he succeeded, time will tell.

Mick knew the Captain well-they had been old fellow-travellers; but he now wanted to ascertain what was the precise nature of the stranger's character. In answer to some of Mick's unpretending queries, we found out that the gentleman had been with friends the previous evening, and, said he, "I sat up rather overnight drinking Irish whiskey punch, and it made me a little unsteady this morning, particularly as I had but an hour's sleep or so--I stumbled in getting into the coach, and fell on the lady that was inside-that was all !"

"Bad luck to these women!" said Mick. "They are always bringing people into trouble and harm-and if it was any one else eitherbut that Captain is such a quarrelsome chap, and always at that duelling. You're not an Irishman, are you sir ?" interrogated he.

"An Irishman! No" said he. "I am a native of Lincolnshire.

I travel for a London house. I am a good deal in the oil, soap, and perfumery line, and I was never in Ireland before."

says

When Mick heard this, he made a shrewd guess of what the "oil, soap, and perfumery" chap was made of, and commenced accordingly. "Be gar, then, gentlemen, as he is a stranger amongst us,' Mick, we ought to see him nice and decently through it; for as he has no friends here, 'twould be rather hard to let him be shot by the Captain inside without some one to stand by him."

66

Oh but," said James Simper-that was his name--" I don't know how to fight a duel. I never fired a pistol in all my life!"

66 SW-h-e-w!" whistled Mick. over here till you larned-eh?"

And what under God brought you

"But surely I never dreamt I'd have to fight!" answered he.

66

"Is it and coming to Ireland," inquired Mick, in tones of wellfeigned astonishment. Oh, Holy Moses!" continued he, "Here's nothing but downright murder. Sure the Captain can take the top off an egg at twelve paces, but then he never fights at that distance. You see he's sometimes short-sighted, so when he wins the toss, for fear of accidents, he always prefers six."

"But bless my heart and soul, I can't fight I know," said James, evidently getting alarmed; " and what is the good in getting myself shot-and another thing, I do not want to-"

Well, there's a chance lost," continued Mick, unheeding what the other said, "'tis a pity you ar'nt a shot, for if you hit the Captain 'twould be the making of you. Devil a house in Ireland but would give you orders for the axing 'em-they'd be so much afeard to refuse you, man; bedad you'd frighten anything out of 'em. Faith, 'tis worth the chance! If I was you I'd have a slap at him: there's no knowing your luck. Sure, there was Bully Blake that challenged the gentleman at Monsteraven the day we stopped on the Curragh to see Lord Howth's dog Clipper course and kill two hares in twenty minutes-well, bedad, but the Bully was hit that day, and the other gentleman was but a very indifferent shot after all."

Oh yes, that may be. But surely I am not necessitated to fight!

Can't could not-" he whispered Mick something.

"What!" shouted Mick. "Police! Thank God and our own peaceable quiet country, we neither have nor want them! Faith, I'd like to see a policeman in Tipperary. But sure its joking you are—you wouldn't have me do such a thing. Ah, no! I'm sure your honour will have one blaze at him after the names he called you."

"But don't you know," said Mr. Simper, "that I-”

"And another thing," interrupted Mick," he was up at Mr. Cripps's last night, so his hand will be none of the steadiest; for upon my sowl, sir, people don't leave him thirsty."

"Even so," said James Simper, the names he called me."

66

"I'd much rather forgive him all

Forgive him!" roared Mick. "Is it after kissing his wife-Oh, faith, the Captain does not leave people forgive him so easy as all that.' "But I am a stranger here, far away from home, and I have no friend," said our fellow-traveller.

"Then," said Mick, "this gentleman (pointing to me) is used to these sort of things, and nothing would give him greater pleasure than