“When I robbed the king, it was only taking saddle-bags from an honest tax-gatherer, whom I chanced to meet ‘accidentally on purpose’ one winter’s evening at the deer-park wall of Cloghanteeley--The man was drunk, the horse tired, and I took care of the silver--only that, forgetting the owner’s name, I never knew where to return it afterwards.” “So much for the king,” observed the fosterer; “and now, gallant captain, for the miser.” “I’ll tell ye that,” replied the ratcatcher. “It was late in the winter, the year after the French, ** and Christmas Eve, into the bargain. Well, there was to be a cake *** at Croneeinbeg and as I was then fond of a dance, I set out after dark for the village. Before I got half-way, who should I meet but Mary Connor. She was the natest girl within thirty miles, and had been only married a bare fortnight. I heard her sob as I came up, and when I bid her the time of the day, she couldn’t answer, the poor cratur, for the grief was fairly choking her. ‘Death an’ nous,’ says I, ‘Mary darling, has any thing happened to yourself or the man that owns ye?’ “‘Nothing,’ says she, ‘copteeine avourneeine, **** only we’re both fairly ruined.’ ‘Ruined?’ said I. ‘Och hone! it’s God’s truth,’ says she-and between tears and sobs the poor girl managed to tell me her misfortune.” * A disgusting penalty then attached to treason. ** In Connaught, for many years after Humbert’s descent upon the coast of Mayo, events were dated from that occurrence. *** At village dances, a cake is generally provided by the owner of the house, which the most liberal gallant purchases, and presents to his mistress. **** “Captain darling.”