New Orleans daily crescent. [volume] ([New Orleans, La.]) 1851-1866, 1862-01-01
Adventures of an lr,shmnn at Bull Run.


Adventures of an Ir,shnnn Mt Bull Run.
The war correspondent the Charleston Courier
is responsible for the following:
Sitting in rainy tent at Centreve last even.
lhg' overheard the following fragment of a con-
versat'on between party Of Irish soldiers, which,
Tor richness and raciness, Char4es Lever would
| have lmmortalized himself by frescoipg in one of
his lnimitable stories. The company were detail
ing their experiences, " hair breadth escapes by
nood and field. !" spinning Munchausen yarns and
cracking wonderful jokes, when one PatMulloony
genuine son of the sod, broke in with an acc count
| OF his adventures during the battle of Bull Run.
give you the ebulltion entire, though half its fun
and force are lost by its transfer to paper.
1e see, gintlemin," said Pat, "{God forgive me
1or calling such spalpeens out oy yer names) that
time Whin the ould Major came down like fyin
dlVll, on his chsnut mare with his illigant sword
that be Jabers is like sythe blade, wavin about
ms aid, and yelled to to come ON and charge the
bloody Yankees, be gorra twas to Washington we
thought We were going all the way, and the dvl a
time we were to stop at ALL at ALL on the road, not
| even for dhrap of wather.
- w ell, sure enough, the 0uld feer wint in him.
self, and after him, not thinking about ANYTHING
at ALL but jist going on. Jumped over mite Of
tence as tight as a toad, and took to the wather
(Bull RUM like dick, and when got to the mid
die Of the strame looked around and the diyil
recave the one Of vez near me- l was alone in.
trely sure. Thin thought big fools as We all are
that was a bigger wan for not sthayng in the
woods lke the rlst OF yez and waiting tor the spal
Poems esnt 70 come oysr YER But as was out there
now things is beyant, and p'raps I'll have crack
O. me goon But divil of a thing could say. Jist
as was making up me mind to return to ye oil, q
pig Yankee, who looked as if he was seventeen
!eet hlgh, l1ylcd his musket at me and fired. The
bullet whisted by me ear wid shrake worse than
Tim Fanagan's fife.
Bad luck to ye, ye thaie O. the wurld," says I,
what are ye thrying to shoot, me fur; sure |
an rnthy IT, !
shtraight betwane his eyes; and fred at him. but
the murtherin' ball didn't touch hair NV his head
that mist. Begorra, says |, to meself, now I'll
take ye prisner anyhow, and put meself across
the bank, and lookin' mighty feerce at lin, said,
Surrender, ye dvil, or I'll blow yer brains out'
The fun ov it was, I'd forgot, in my charge upon
the spalpeen, to load me gun at all at ALL and the
bloody thafe must av knew it, for he made at ME
wild his bay'net, like two.legged locomotive
By the powers but was frightened. As he was
comm down, laping several fate at a time says
to meself, Pat, me boy, mind yer eye: Now'syer
time to keep wide awake, or yell have gimet
hole through yer valuable bow'lls, and Biddy Nu
looney will be wilder Badluck to the &riln sure
it's meself forgot how to come to the CHARGE
So took my gun by the middle, just as ye wud
houla good ould.iashioned black thorn shillay,
and balanced mesef fur in. AS he come down
the devil take me if knew how to git that baynet
point out O. the way. | twired me musket around
me he'd till me fingers ached but suddenly, bless
all the Howly Saints fur it, root TUX the fut of the
bloody. minded rascal, and he went sprawling on
the turf, looking as pretty letter Y as ye ever
signed to yer name at the same time that hi bay
net sthruck fut in the ground. gin yell, aud
was on him before pig could grunt and put me
tut on his neck. Surrender, ye divil," said I,
but the diyil word did he spake.
thought had his throte too tight, an let him
so to give him fair chance to luther his sinti-
ments. What dye think the spalpane tbryea to
do? Sure it was to git his musket out of the
ground and sthruck me wild it again. Bat sthil |
little crack in the he'd wild the butt o. me goon and
broke his jaw. Then he became quiet an l made
him take his musket and cross the crake, when
drew him to the hospital and the divil a dacentel
better behaved fellcr ye niver saw after that. He
laid in bed six wakes and didn't spake nary word
That's what did at Bull Run. Who'll give me a
poteen of whiskys
NAILS. - Messrs. Kearny, Rlois 4 Co.. No. G:
Mnm!z.rn ~. H.. -: