The Sun.
London, England, 1841-02-19 00:00:00

KILRUSH PETTY SESSIONS

'• None so deaf as those that don't wish to bean"—
Old Play.
When men are disposed to quarrel, more especially
the mercurial children of Paddyland, small matter will
suffice as •• cause of action."

" Colonel Montgomery," says an anecdote. compiler,
"was shot in a duel about a dog ; Captain Mathews in
one about a servant ; Sterne's father in one about a
goose ; and another gentleman in one touching an acre
of anchovies." What marvel, then, that Siney Cushen
(a gentleman following the peaceful occupation, albeit
requiring pluck, of feather-picker) should make his
debut with a nose like the towns on the coast of Syria,
considerably damaged, and as palpable a black eye as
ever the mawley of Bendigo, Caunt, or Nick Ward in-
flicted while philandering in the fistie ring.
Master Siny seemed determined from the commence-
ment to make an impression, and accordingly, with a
vast show of privacy, he produced a small bottle, and,
wetting a piece of whity-brown paper, turned his back
on the Bench, and patted with the nostrum his damaged
ogle. When 'twas done, " 'Tis the work, gintlemen,"
said Mr. Cushen, " of Tim Barrett, there—that boy
that's stoopin' his head an' makin' b'lieve to ate the
crown ov his bat. The dear knows 'tis no admiration
he'd be ashamed to show his face either the manner in
which he used mine."—(A laugh.)
The individual alluded to, a " Master Slender " in
proportions, togged in a cast-off military coat, for which,
when his measure was taken, he was evidently absent,
popped up his phiz at Siny's appeal, but he might have
remained quiet, for a champion was at hand. " Hould
the child a minit, Tim Barrett," exclaimed a little punchy
red-faced woman, whom we instantly conjectured, and
we were right in so doing, to be Mrs. Barrett herself,
and no other. " Hould the child, Tim," said she, de-
positing in his arms what Bulwer calls a pledge of mutual
affection. Tim did as he was bid, evidently much
pleased with his charge. " Isn't id a hardship, my
lord, your reverinces o' the binch," said our heroine,
" that honest, industheris, pains•takin', laborious, jine/li-
keracthered people, ud be dhragged into coort be the
like o' that sprisawn ? Eh, isn't id, gintlemen ?"
Their worships intimated to the excited questioner,
that they had not yet got into the matter, and that
she was nat included in the charge. " Your hus-
band there is the only person summoned," said a
Magistrate.
Mrs. Barrett looked all over the roof of the Court,
and then took as accurate survey of Master Cushen's
exterior, as if she were paid by the inch for so doing,
and then opened—" Why, thin, the Lord grant the
mother ov five childer patience this day, but 'tis
enough to—to—to tantalise people, so it is. Errs,
misther Justice of the Pace, Tim Barrett is so deaf
he would'ot hear a cannon."—(Laughter.)
The aggrieved Mr. Cushen looked as though he
thOught this was going a leetle too far. "Oh I mercy,
Mrs. Barrett, m'am," he inquired in a tremulous voice,
and papering his eye as he spoke, " Whin did himself
grow hard o' hearin'? Begor I'm acquainted wid the
same man these six years, an' till this minit I was full
sure he'd hear the grass growin', if ever a man did.
Ohl be the tare o' war 'tis surprisin' how suddint
diseases comes on people." He then turned to the ac-
cused, " How long arc you so deaf, Tim Barrett, might
I ax ?" But Timotheus had his cue. " Don't cry,
now, that's a lama ma'chree, he was," said he, sooth-
ingly, and patting the dirty cap that contained his
child's head ; " easy, now, an' we'll hy cakes." He
then clapped his listener close to the babe's mouth, as
if trying to catch its attempt at speech, amid the laugh-
ter of all present. "Oh ! begor that's a nate young
man," said Siny Cushen, dejectedly ; " all I know is,
that he sthruck me in at Micky Roughen's, for breakin'
his dhudeen be accidint."

Mrs. Barrett—" Whisht, you goose-exposer. Didn't

I see you, wid me own two eyes, pelt a kirawn o'turf at
him, an' knock the top ov his pipe off clane an' dear,
an he sthrivin' at the time to hear Misther Markham
explainin' about the poor-laws.
"Oh ! I know ; thrue for you, ma'am, returned
Sint', winking his best eye, and bad was the best, and
once more applied the wash to his optic, while he
glanced pathetically at the bench.
Tim Barrett extended his band, looking as uncon-
scious as possible. " Give us the hand, Siny," he ex-
claimed. "Is id anything me wife an' yourself has agin
each other ?"

"Oh ! let by-gones be by-Bones," and he looked
quite bewildered, replied Master Cushen, "I'll be gone
home, so I will ;" and home he accordingly went.
Air. and Mrs. Barrett, having received a lecture
from the Bench, then, withdrew.