Such girls were found--and now they're gone--
So here's to Mary Draper!

"So here's to Mary Draper!" sang out every voice, in such efforts to catch
the tune as pleased the taste of the motley assembly.

"For Mary Draper and Co., I thank you," said Maurice. "Quill drinks to
Dennis," added he, in a grave tone, as he nodded to O'Shaughnessy. "Yes,
Shaugh, few men better than ourselves know these matters; and few have had
more experience of the three perils of Irishmen,--love, liquor, and the law
of arrest."

"It's little the latter has ever troubled my father's son," replied
O'Shaughnessy. "Our family have been writ proof for centuries, and he'd
have been a bold man who would have ventured with an original or a true
copy within the precincts of Killinahoula."

"Your father had a touch of Larry M'Hale in him," said I, "apparently."

"Exactly so," replied Dennis; "not but they caught him at last, and a
scurvy trick it was and well worthy of him who did it! Yes," said he, with
a sigh, "it is only another among the many instances where the better
features of our nationality have been used by our enemies as instruments
for our destruction; and should we seek for the causes of unhappiness in
our wretched country, we should find them rather in our virtues than in
our vices, and in the bright rather than in the darker phases of our
character."

"Metaphysics, by Jove!" cried Quill; "but all true at the same time. There
was a mess-mate of mine in the 'Roscommon' who never paid car-hire in his
life. 'Head or harp, Paddy!' he would cry. 'Two tenpennies or nothing.'
'Harp, for the honor of ould Ireland!' was the invariable response, and my
friend was equally sure to make head come uppermost; and, upon my soul,
they seem to know the trick at the Home Office."

"That must have been the same fellow that took my father," cried
O'Shaughnessy, with energy.

"Let us hear the story, Dennis," said I.

"Yes," said Maurice, "for the benefit of self and fellows, let us hear the
stratagem!"

"The way of it was this," resumed O'Shaughnessy. "My father, who for
reasons registered in the King's Bench spent a great many years of his life
in that part of Ireland geographically known as lying west of the law,
was obliged, for certain reasons of family, to come up to Dublin. This he
proceeded to do with due caution. Two trusty servants formed an advance
guard, and patrolled the country for at least five miles in advance; after
them came