as another scarcely
less difficult to be attended to: this was, the skilful adaptation of
our melodies, not only to the prevailing tastes of the company, but
to their political and party bearings; Darby supplying me with various
hints how I was to discover at a moment the peculiar bias of any
stranger's politics.

"The boys," said Darby, thereby meaning his own party, "does be always
sly and careful, and begin by asking, maybe, for 'Do you incline?'
or 'Crows in the barley,' or the like. Then they 'll say, 'Have you
anything new, Mister M'Keown, from up the country?' 'Something sweet,
is it?' says I. 'Ay, or sour, av ye have it,' they 'll 'say. 'Maybe ye'd
like "Vinegar-hill," then,' says I. Arrah, you'd see their faces redden
up with delight; and how they 'll beat time to every stroke of the tune,
it 's a pleasure to play for them. But the yeos (meaning the yeomen)
will call out mightily,--'Piper! halloo there! piper, I say, rise The
Boyne water, or Croppies lie down.'"

"And of course you refuse, Darby?"

"Refuse! Refuse, is it? and get a bayonet in me? Devil a bit, my dear.
I 'll play it up with all the spirit I can; and nod my head to the tune,
and beat the time with my heel and toe; and maybe, if I see need of
it, I fasten this to the end of the chanter, and that does the business
entirely."

Here Darby took from the lining of his hat a bunch of orange ribbon,
whose faded glories showed it had done long and active service in the
cause of loyalty.

I confess Darby's influence over me did not gain any accession of
power by this honest avowal of his political expediency; and the
bold assertion of a nation's wrongs, by which at first he won over my
enthusiasm, seemed sadly at variance with this truckling policy. He was
quicksighted enough to perceive what was passing in my mind, and at once
remarked,--

"'Tis a hard part we're obliged to play, Master Tom; but one comfort we
have,--it 's only a short time we 'll need it. You know the song? "Here
he broke into the popular tune of the day:--

"'And the French will come again,
Says the Shan van vaugh;
And they 'll bring ten thousand men.
Says the Shan van vaugh;
And with powder and with ball,
For our rights we 'll loudly call:
Don't you think they 'll hear us then!
Says the Shan van vaugh.'

Ye must larn that air, Master Tom. And see, now, the yeos is as fond of
it as the boys; only remember to put their