e had only promised not to _drink_ a _drop_ of wine,
he felt he must have some stimulant. So he got a basin, into which he
poured two bottles of claret, and then got two hot rolls of bread,
sopped them in the claret and ate them. "I see," replied the Chancellor;
"in truth, Sir Toby, you deserve to be master of the rolls!"

* * * * *

[Illustration: JOHN P. CURRAN, MASTER OF ROLLS.]

One naturally turns to Curran for a selection of the witty sayings of
the Irish Bar, and abundantly he supplies them, although in these days
many of his jests may be considered as in somewhat doubtful taste.
Phillips tells us he remembered Curran once--in an action for breach of
promise of marriage, in which he was counsel for the defendant, a young
clergyman--thus appealing to the jury: "Gentlemen, I entreat you not to
ruin this young man by a vindictive verdict; for _though_ he has
talents, and is in the Church, _he may rise_!"

After his college career Curran went to London to study for the
Bar. His circumstances were often straitened, and at times so much
so that he had to pass the day without dinner. But under such
depressing circumstances his high spirits never forsook him. One
day he was sitting in St. James's Park merrily whistling a tune
when a gentleman passed, who, struck by the youth's melancholy
appearance while, at the same time, he whistled a lively air, asked
how he "came to be sitting there whistling while other people were
at dinner." Curran replied, "I would have been at dinner too, but a
trifling circumstance--delay in remittances--obliges me to dine on
an Irish tune." The result was that Curran was invited to dine with
the stranger, and years afterwards, when he had become famous, he
recalled the incident to his entertainer--Macklin, the celebrated
actor--with the assurance, "You never acted better in your life."

From Phillips again we have Curran's retort upon an Irish judge, who was
quite as remarkable for his good humour and raillery as for his legal
researches. Curran was addressing a jury on one of the State trials in
1803 with his usual animation. The judge, whose political bias, if any
judge can have one, was certainly supposed not to be favourable to the
prisoner, shook his head in doubt or denial of one of the advocate's
arguments. "I see, gentlemen," said Curran, "I see the motion of his
lordship's head; common observers might imagine that implied a
difference of opinion, bu