The moment the cloth was removed, the ladies made their escape from the cabin, Mrs. Sullivan exclaiming, "My ocular faculties can't stand the smell of the hung beef, and the cabbage, and the mutton, and the blacking, not to disparage the gentlemen's boots; and except that fat lady in the yellow poplin pelisse and blue satin bonnet, they are all such low-lived people as I never see'd before in my born days." Her "ocular faculties," (by which we rather suppose she meant the "olfactory nerves," which Miss Webberly had remarked to the _dilettante_ at dinner "were much offended by the hydrogen and ammonia emitted from the viands," in order to tally with his scientific recommendation of "carbonic acid gas, in the shape of bottled porter,") were, however, not much better off above than below. The smoke of the fire by which the dinner had been dressed filled all the deck; the servants were at their meal in the second cabin, from whence proceeded another edition of the beef and cabbage, et cetera, with the addition of the fumes of tobacco and whisky punch. Adelaide's admirer presently appeared on deck, bearing a great jug in one hand and a glass in the other: he addressed her saying, "I have brought you some real ladies' punch, sweet to your heart's content, and strong enough by Jasus to make any man in the packet drunk, if he would only take enough of it." In vain Adelaide declined the cup her Ganymede presented. "Don't be dashed," reiterated he; "it won't do you a ha'porth of harm: a good beginning makes a good ending. If you'll only set the example, I'll be bound to say all the ladies will keep you in countenance. It's the true Inisowen, I'll take my Davy it is?" "The true Inisowen" is a sort of smoked whisky, whose smell is the most horridly sickening thing that can be fancied to those unaccustomed to it. Adelaide found it quite overcoming, but luckily espying Colonel Desmond ascending the ladder signed to him to come to her relief, and when he obeyed, said, "Will you have the goodness to assure this polite gentleman, I am no lover of ladies' punch?" so saying, she removed to another part of the deck, to escape the odour of the "true Inisowen." The disappointed youth retreated on Colonel Desmond's remonstrance, saying, "No offence I hope, sir, to you nor the lady neither:" and, as he went down below, muttered, "With all her delicate airs, by my conscience if she was behind the cabin door she'd take a _good_ swig of it." The travellers had now fairly entered on the dreary bog of Allen. No human form or habitation met their sight. Its only vegetable productions were a little heath, sedgy grass, or bog myrtle, which were crossed here and there by a half-starved cow or sheep; but they sometimes proceeded miles without even seeing one of these, to remind them that the world contained other living beings besides those in the boat. The road seemed to shake as the horses passed over this "Boggy Syrtis, neither sea Nor good dry land;"