The Sun.
London, England, 1840-03-02 00:00:00

KILRUSH PETTY SESSIONS.

" Jack swigged, and Bill swigged, and I swigged,
And swore there was nothing like grog."
A WET SOUL.—The head dish in the " bill of fare"
for the day was composed of Mickey Carey, a jolly-
looking young dog enough, whose exuberance of animal
spirits, evidently not a " leetle " aided by a primer of
" Paterson's best," rendered him a fit subject for the
polite attention of the anti-inebriety police.
Micky possessed a decided advantage in the arrange-
ment of his visual organs, which were graced with a de-
cided squint, thus enabling him to keep one "eye on
the Bench," while, with the other, he scrutinized his op-
ponent—" A sure indication," as Larry O'Connor
would say, that " he was born in the middle of the
week, and now looked both ways for Sunday." After
executing a prelude of his coughs, and assuring the
" in plain English, that he spoke nothing
but Irish, Mr. Carey informed the Bench that " all
in life he wanted (happy fellow !) was tin and sixpence,
which remained due to him as a balance of wages by
his master, Paddy Torpy."
Mr., Mrs., and Miss Torpy were in attendance, and
they one and all stoutly denied the claim, and exerted
themselves most strenuously to persuade the Bench that
they couldn't b'lieve 'twas day from Micky Carey. He
never attinded his religious duties, not he! He thought
no more of taking a false oath, than he did of " quenehin'
a glass o' sperits;" an' that's the buck-o that the saint
work kern easy to ; and as for the wages, he was paid
over, and over, and over again, if he would only have
the kindness, honesty, and condescension to allow it.
Magistrate—You don't owe him the money then ?
" Oh ! that I may be happy if l do, your Lordship,"
replied Torpy, senior, while his better half wished heJ
sowl to glory if' such was the case, and Miss T. offered
to—" Aye, tin thousand oaths," that the same boy owed
her father double the money if every one had his due.
Micky Carey now endeavoured to look the family
party in the face, and addressing Paddy Torpy parti-
cularly, he inquired Low he could fault him.
" Be gor, then," returned Pat—" I vault you for
many's the out-o-ti,e tray caper an' mismanagement, but
above all, oh! is indeed, ehove all, your love o' ticket.
Sure, bless my sowl, you wor never sober Sunday or
Monday, only staggeran', an' hekuppiti', an
shoutin', and tightin", Puk_a whble
market o' people thro' an fro wid your-,mis m, de a-it-tors ;
thrust for 'roe, God knows—aren't you foreverca-;
rousin' wid Bill, Tom, and Darby ?"
Micky—l often seen yourself a thri#e bandised.
Paddy—'Tis a good man's case ; but did you ever
see me wheelin' a coal o' fire at night in a da,k room
till I could light myself' to the bottle ?—(Laughter.)
No, you didn't—did you ever see me sthreelin' me toes
on the roads an' two oibors houldin' me ondher the
~xtliers (beg virdon, gintletnen), an' I abusin' the same
people fot takire me out o' the dike ?—out you'll never
do a day's good : here, show your account, if you have
it, an' I'll show mine.
This seemed to floor the gentleman with the obli-
quity of vision, who merely growled a little in reply,
and then, taking his hat, levanted.