ness, extracting all the satire, and giving it quite a dignified and
creditable character, for the Lieutenant Fireworker smelt so
confoundedly of powder that the little doctor, though he never flinched
when occasion demanded, did not care to give him an open. Those who had
heard the same story from the mischievous merry little doctor before,
were I dare say, amused at the grand and complimentary turn he gave it
now.

The fact was, that poor Magnolia's name came to her in no very gracious
way. Young Lady Carrick-o'-Gunniol was a bit of a wag, and was planting
a magnolia--one of the first of those botanical rarities seen in
Ireland--when good-natured, vapouring, vulgar Mrs. Macnamara's note, who
wished to secure a peeress for her daughter's spiritual guardian,
arrived. Her ladyship pencilled on the back of the note, 'Pray call the
dear babe Magnolia,' and forthwith forgot all about it. But Madam
Macnamara was charmed, and the autograph remained afterwards for two
generations among the archives of the family; and, with great smiles and
much complacency, she told Lord Carrick-o'-Gunniol all about it, just
outside the grand jury-room, where she met him during the assize week;
and, being a man of a weak and considerate nature, rather kind, and very
courteous--although his smile was very near exploding into a laugh, as
he gave the good lady snuff out of his own box--he was yet very much
concerned and vexed, and asked his lady, when he went home, how she
could have induced old Mrs. Macnamara to give that absurd name to her
poor infant; whereat her ladyship, who had not thought of it since, was
highly diverted; and being assured that the babe was actually
christened, and past recovery Magnolia Macnamara, laughed very merrily,
kissed her lord, who was shaking his head gravely, and then popped her
hood on, kissed him again, and, laughing still, ran out to look at her
magnolia, which, by way of reprisal, he henceforth, notwithstanding her
entreaties, always called her 'Macnamara;' until, to her infinite
delight, he came out with it, as it sometimes happens, at a wrong time,
and asked old Mac--a large, mild man--then extant, Madame herself,
nurse, infant Magnolia, and all, who had arrived at the castle, to walk
out and see Lady Carrick-o'-Gunniol's 'Macnamara,' and perceived not the
slip, such is the force of habit, though the family stared, and Lady C.
laughed in an uncalled-for-way, at a sudden recollection of a tumble she
once ha