ommonly called Maurice Quill. Tear and ages! how sore my back
is! It was all the fault of the baste, Mr. O'Mealey. We set out in search
of you this morning, to bring you back with us to Torrijos, but we fell in
with a very pleasant funeral at Barcaventer, and joined them. They invited
us, I may say, to spend the day; and a very jovial day it was. I was the
chief mourner, and carried a very big candle through the village, in
consideration of as fine a meat-pie, and as much lush as my grief permitted
me to indulge in afterwards. But, my dear sir, when it was all finished, we
found ourselves nine miles from our quarters; and as neither of us were in
a very befitting condition for pedestrian exercise, we stole one of the
leaders out of the hearse,--velvet, plumes, and all,--and set off home.

"When we came upon your party we were not over clear whether you were
English, Portuguese, or French, and that was the reason I called out to
you, 'God save all here!' in Irish. Your polite answer was a shot, which
struck the old horse in the knee, and although we wheeled about in
double-quick, we never could get him out of his professional habits on the
road. He had a strong notion he was engaged in another funeral,--as he was
very likely to be,--and the devil a bit faster than a dead march could we
get him to, with all our thrashing. Orderly time for men in a hurry, with a
whole platoon blazing away behind them! But long life to the cavalry, they
never hit anything!"

While he continued to run on in this manner, we reached our watch-fire,
when what was my surprise to discover, in my newly-made acquaintance, the
worthy doctor I had seen a day or two before operating at the fountain at
Talavera.

"Well, Mr. O'Mealey," said he, as he seated himself before the blaze, "What
is the state of the larder? Anything savory,--anything drink-inspiring to
be had?"

"I fear, Doctor, my fare is of the very humblest; still--"

"What are the fluids, Charley?" cried the major; "the cruel performance I
have been enacting on that cursed beast has left me in a fever."

"This was a pigeon-pie, formerly," said Dr. Quill, investigating the ruined
walls of a pasty; "and,--but come, here's a duck; and if my nose deceive
me not, a very tolerable ham. Peter--Larry--Patsy--What's the name of your
familiar there?"

"Mickey--Mickey Tree."

"Mickey Free, then; come here, avick! Devise a little drink, my son,--none
of the weakest--no lemon---hot! You understa