didate being unseated
for a few months, by the blundering decision of the assessor. On the day
when the election terminated, O'Connell was engaged to dine with a Roman
Catholic priest, who piqued himself not a little on the honor of
entertaining the Liberator. The company assembled at the appointed hour,
much dispirited at the adverse turn which the election had taken at the
last moment. O'Connell himself was particularly angry, and chafed with
ill-temper at the blunder of the assessor, who would not even listen to
his arguments.

Dinner came on, and a turkey-pout smoked before the hospitable
clergyman. "Mr. O'Connell, what part of the fowl shall I help you to?"
cried the reverend host, with an air of _empressement_.

His ears were electrified by O'Connell's rejoinder--"Oh! hang it, cut it
through the middle, and give me half the bird!"

For an orator of a style so copious and diffuse, it was singular how
admirably laconic he could become when he chose. During dinner, while
occupied with the viands, he would express himself with the terseness
and condensation of Tacitus.

A railway company once gave a complimentary dinner at Kingstown, and
O'Connell, who had supported the Bill in the House of Commons, was
invited. The sea breeze on the Kingstown pier sharpened his appetite. He
had already partaken heartily of the second course, when one of the
directors, seeing O'Connell's plate nearly empty, asked--"Pray, sir,
what will you be helped to _next_?"

Hastily glancing at the dishes still untasted, O'Connell, with a full
mouth, answered--"Mutton--well done--and much of it."

SCENE AT KILLINEY.

O'Connell was a capital actor, and his dramatic delivery of a common
remark was often highly impressive. Many years since, he went down to
Kingstown, near Dublin, with a party, to visit a queen's ship-of-war,
which was then riding in the bay.

After having seen it, O'Connell proposed a walk to the top of Killiney
Hill. Breaking from the rest of his party, he ascended to the highest
point of the hill, in company with a young and real Irish patriot, whose
character was brimful of national enthusiasm. The day was fine, and the
view from the summit of the hill burst gloriously upon the sight. The
beautiful bay of Dublin, like a vast sheet of crystal, was at their
feet. The old city of Dublin stretched away to the west, and to the
north was the old promontory of Howth, jutting forth into the sea. To
the south were the Dublin an