Litchfield enquirer., 1830-03-04
IRISH ANECDoTE. A

In the autumn of 1925. some private af- fairs called me into the sister kingdom j; and as did not travel, like Polyphemus, with my eye out, gathered few samples of Irish character, amongst which was the following incident.
 was standing one morning at the win- dow of mine inn,' when my attention was attracted by scene that took place beneath. The Belfast coach was standing at the door, and on the roof, in front, sat a solitary outside passenger, fine young fellow, in the uniform of the Connaught rangers. Below, by the front wheel, stood an old woman, seemingly his mother, a young man, younger woman, sister or sweetheart; and they were all earnestly entreating the young soldier to descend from his seat on the coach.
 Come down wid ye. Thady ; the speaker was the old woman. Come down now to your old mother. Sure it's fog ye they will, and strip the flesh off the bones give ye. Come down Thady, dar- lin!
 I''s honor, mo her, was the short re- ply of the soldier; and with clenched hands and set teeth, he took stifer pos- ture on the coach.
 'Thady, come d"wn-come down now ye fool of the world-come along down wid yet! The tone ofthe present appeal was more promptly and sternly pronounce ed: It's honor, brother ? and the body of the speaker rose more rigdly erect than ever on the roof. o Thady, come down sure it's me, your own Kathleen, that bids ye. Come down, or yell break the heart of me, Thady, jewel; come down, then! The poor girl wrung her hands as she said it, and cast q look upward, that had visible effect on the muscles of the soldiers coun- tenance. There was more tenderness in his tone, but it conveyed the same resolu- tion as before.
 It's honor, honor bright, Kathleen ? and, as if 10 defend himself from another glance, he fixed his look stedfastly in front, while the renewed entreaties burst from all three in chorus, with the same answer.
 Come down, Thady, honey !-Thady ye fool, come down 10 Thady, come down to me! y
 It's honor, mother !-It's honor, bro- ther !-Honor bright, my own dear Kath- leen!'
 Although the poor fellow was a private, his appeal was so public, that I did not hesitate to go down and inquire into the particulars of the distress. It appeared that he had been home on furlough, to visit his family, and having exceeded, as he thought, the term of his leave, he was going to rejon his regiment, and to under- go the penalty of his neglect. asked him when the furlough expired.
 The first of March, your honour-bad luck to it of all the black days in the world and here it is,come sudden on me like shot!' . -.
 The first of March !-why, my good fellow, you have day to spare then the first of March will not be here till to. morrow. It is leap year. and February has twenty-nine days.'
 The soldier was thunder-struck.-- 'Twenty-nine days is it!-You're it sartin of that same !--Oh, mother mother l-ill luck fly away wid yere ould almanack-a base cratur off book, to be deceaven one after living so long in the family oft us ?
 His first impulse was to cut capor on the roof of the coach, and throw up his cap, with loud hurrah! His second was to throw himself into the arms of his Kath- leen, and the third was to wiring my hand Offin an acknowledgment.
 It's happy man ! am, your honor,