this harangue, thundered out, "You're always go--in;--I don't want you to go; can't you _come_ for once and be damned to you?" At last, after considerable delay, Molly procured our chilled party a turf fire and tea; but the water it was made with was so smoked, they could hardly taste it, and their patience underwent a second trial, waiting for a fresh supply. As Molly left the room, after bringing them this second edition, she muttered to herself, "A pretty lady that, with the brown peepers, and soft spoken too; if it wasn't for her, the devil a foot I'd go near one of them to-night. By the holy sticks, my mistress must get another maid. I can't be at every one's becks and commands; and then it's the worst word in their cheek after all." Our weary party retired to their rooms as soon as they could accomplish having their apartments prepared, and had just fallen into a sound sleep when they were roused by a violent ringing of an immense bell. "Oh Lord have mercy on me!" shuddered out Mrs. Sullivan: "I thought we should have foundered in that 'ere melancholic bog, but now we're a going to perish by fire." A general rencontre in night-caps and dressing-gowns took place in the lobby. Again Molly's shrill voice was heard screaming out, "What a botheration you all keep! be aff to your beds wid ye. Might'n ye be after knowing it was only the up country boat coming in?" Molly's advice was immediately followed; but it was long before the house was quieted from the disturbance occasioned by the fresh arrival. Two hours after another boat came in with equal commotion, and the inn was but a short time silent from this new disturbance, when the warning bell rung for the packet to proceed, in which the Webberly family had come from Dublin. Many a female started up on hearing Boots enter her room by mistake, for that of some male passenger he had promised to call; and he as quickly retreated over the frail barricade of boxes and chairs she had placed against the door, to supply the place of key or bolt. To sleep was now impossible, therefore all our party got up: though Mrs. Sullivan the evening before had declared, she wouldn't go in a canal boat again not for St. Peter nor St. Paul. The Irish are perhaps the most noisy people in the world; the din of tongues on such occasions as the present, can better be fancied than described--every man committing his own business to the charge of some other person, and turning his particular attention to directing that of his neighbour. The gentlemen, on looking out of the windows, saw many a comical figure issue from the house, some in Welsh wigs, some in red night-caps. Mrs. Sullivan's friend, of the blue satin hat and yellow poplin pelisse, now showed her jolly face, decked with numerous papillotes from beneath a fur cap, and her expansive shoulders wrapped in a scarlet cloak, her finery in her hand, as she had but a few miles to go ere she reached home.