ociety for the Suppression of Vice,
shrieked at beholding a man in so startling a condition, and fainted;
he, with a presence of mind perfectly admirable, whipped the cloak from
her back, and threw it round him, and scudding through the tortuous
alleys which abound in that neighbourhood, made his way to the house
where the learned Society of Noviomagians hold their convivial
meetings, and, telling the landlord that he was invited there to dinner
as a curiosity, he gained admittance, and, it is supposed, took his
opportunity for escaping, for he has not since been heard of."

"Good Heaven!" gasped M'Garry; "and do you believe that, doctor?"

"Most firmly, sir! My belief is, that galvanism is, in fact, the
original principle of vitality."

"Should we not rejoice, doctor," cried M'Garry, "at this triumph of
science?"

"I don't think you should, Mister M'Garry," said the doctor, gravely;
"for it would utterly destroy _your_ branch of the profession:
pharmacopolists, instead of compounding medicine, must compound with
their creditors; they are utterly ruined. Mercury is no longer in the
ascendent; all doctors have to do now is to carry a small battery about
them, a sort of galvanic pocket-pistol, I may say, and restore the
vital principle by its application."

"You are not serious, doctor?" said M'Garry, becoming _very_ serious,
with that wise look so peculiar to drunken men.

"Never more serious in my life, sir."

"That would be dreadful!" said M'Garry.

"_Shocking_, you mean," said the doctor.

"Leave off your confounded scientifics, there," shouted Murphy from the
head of the table, "and let us have a song."

"I can't sing, indeed, Mister Murphy," said M'Garry, who became more
intoxicated every moment; for he continued to drink, having overstepped
the boundary which custom had prescribed to him.

"I didn't ask you, man," said Murphy; "but my darling fellow, Ned here,
will gladden our hearts and ears with a stave."

"Bravo!" was shouted round the table, trembling under the "thunders of
applause" with which heavy hands made it ring again; and "Ned of the
Hill!" "Ned of the Hill!" was vociferated with many a hearty cheer
about the board that might indeed be called "festive."

"Well," said O'Connor, "since you call upon me in the name of Ned of
the Hill, I'll give you a song under that very title. Here's Ned of the
Hill's own shout;" and in a rich, manly voice he sang, with the fire of
a bard, these lines:--