We returned wet to the skin to "Joyce's Inn," and dined on roast goose and whisky punch, wrapped in our blankets like Roman senators! One other scene I must recall.

The reader will hardly believe that it occurred in Ireland.

There was an election of a member for I forget what county or borough, and my brother and I went to the hustings--the only time I ever was at an election in Her Majesty's dominions.

What were the party feelings, or the party colours, I utterly forget.

It was merely for the fun of the thing that we went there.