big turnip-field, and all went down to see where you
leaped Badger over the sunk fence,--they call it "Hammersley's
Nose" ever since. Bodkin was at Ballinasloe the last fair, limping
about with a stick; he's twice as quiet as he used to be, and never
beat any one since that morning.

Nellie Guire, at the cross-roads, wants to send you four pair of
stockings she knitted for you, and I have a keg of potteen of Barney's
own making this two months, not knowing how to send it. May be
Sir Arthur himself would like a taste,--he's an Irishman himself,
and one we're proud of, too! The Maynooth chaps are flying all
about the country, and making us all uncomfortable,--God's will be
done, but we used to think ourselves good enough! Your foster-sister,
Kitty Doolan, had a fine boy; it's to be called after you, and
your uncle's to give a christening. He bids me tell you to draw
on him when you want money, and that there's L400 ready for you
now somewhere in Dublin,--I forget the name, and as he's asleep, I
don't like asking him. There was a droll devil down here in the
summer that knew you well,--a Mr. Webber. The master treated
him like the Lord Lieutenant, had dinner parties for him, and
gave him Oliver Cromwell to ride over to Meelish. He is expected
again for the cock-shooting, for the master likes him greatly. I'm
done at last, for my paper is finished and the candle just out; so with
every good wish and every good thought, remember your own old
friend,--
PETER RUSH.
P.S. It's Smart and Sykes, Fleet Street, has the money.
Father O'Shaughnessey, of Ennis, bids me ask if you ever met his
nephew. If you do, make him sing "Larry M'Hale." I hear it's a
treat.

How is Mickey Free going on? There are three decent young
women in the parish he promised to marry, and I suppose he's pursuing
the same game with the Portuguese. But he was never
remarkable for minding his duties. Tell him I am keeping my eye
on him.
P. R.

[Footnote:2 To excuse Father Rush for any apparent impiety, I must add
that, by "the Lord," he means "Lord Clanricarde."]

Here concluded this long epistle; and though there were many parts I could
not help smiling at, yet upon the whole I felt sad and dispirited. What I
had long foreseen and anticipated was gradually accomplishing,--the wreck
of an old and honored house, the fall of