ho for some time past had not well understood the gist of
his eloquence, had at length comprehended enough to be angry. _Ce n'est que
le premier pas qui coute_, certainly, in an Irish row. "The merest urchin
may light the train; one handful of mud often ignites a shindy that ends in
a most bloody battle."

And here, no sooner did the _vis-a-tergo_ impel Billy forward than a severe
rap of a closed fist in the eye drove him back, and in one instant he
became the centre to a periphery of kicks, cuffs, pullings, and haulings
that left the poor deputy-grand not only orange, but blue.

He fought manfully, but numbers carried the day; and when the coach drove
off, which it did at last without him, the last thing visible to the
outsides was the figure of Mr. Crow,--whose hat, minus the crown, had been
driven over his head down upon his neck, where it remained like a dress
cravat,--buffeting a mob of ragged vagabonds who had so completely
metamorphosed the unfortunate man with mud and bruises that a committee of
the grand lodge might actually have been unable to identify him.

As for Mickey and his friends behind, their mirth knew no bounds; and
except the respectable insides, there was not an individual about the coach
who ceased to think of and laugh at the incident till we arrived in Dublin
and drew up at the Hibernian in Dawson Street.

CHAPTER XIV.

DUBLIN.

No sooner had I arrived in Dublin than my first care was to present myself
to Dr. Mooney, by whom I was received in the most cordial manner. In fact,
in my utter ignorance of such persons, I had imagined a college fellow to
be a character necessarily severe and unbending; and as the only two very
great people I had ever seen in my life were the Archbishop of Tuam and the
chief-baron when on circuit, I pictured to myself that a university
fellow was, in all probability, a cross between the two, and feared him
accordingly.

The doctor read over my uncle's letter attentively, invited me to partake
of his breakfast, and then entered upon something like an account of the
life before me; for which Sir Harry Boyle had, however, in some degree
prepared me.

"Your uncle, I find, wishes you to live in college,--perhaps it is better,
too,--so that I must look out for chambers for you. Let me see: it will be
rather difficult, just now, to find them." Here he fell for some moments
into a musing fit, and merely muttered a few broken sentences, as: "To be
sure, if oth