visitor various exclamations of delight and surprise. I sent off my report, and it appeared in due time, but unfortunately the king was too much hurried by other arrangements, and did not go to the Waterfall at all, but drove direct from Powerscourt House to Kingstown, where he embarked. I have been often quizzed for my imaginative report, but, nevertheless, I stated what the King _ought_ to have done, and what he _ought_ to have said, and if he did otherwise, it was not my fault." I was extremely fortunate, at my accession to magisterial office, to find myself provided with clerks who could not be surpassed in diligence, integrity, or intelligence. I shall particularize Messrs. Pemberton and Cox. The former was the son of a previous chief magistrate, at whose instance he was appointed. The latter had been for several years in America, and had been engaged by Jacob Philip Astor in forming the settlement of Astoria, in Washington Irvine's description of which he is most favorably mentioned. He was a man of great literary taste, and was an accomplished linguist. Their performance of official duties never required from me, nor to my knowledge from any of my colleagues, the slightest correction or reproof. Pemberton was a solicitor, and was promoted in 1846 to the Clerkship of the Crown for the King's County. He had been many years before an assistant to Messrs. Allen and Greene, the Clerks of the Peace for the City of Dublin. I shall have to notice hereafter some amusing incidents connected with Cox, but shall give precedence to a few anecdotes derived from Pemberton, and arising from his acquaintance with the old Session House in Green Street, and the records there, to which, I suppose, he had full access. Towards the close of the last century an aid-de-camp of the then viceroy was indicted, at the Quarter Sessions, for the larceny of a handsome walking-stick, and also for assaulting the gentleman who owned it, and who was, moreover, a Frenchman. The transaction arose in a house of a description unnecessary to be particularized. An affray took place, the Frenchman was kicked down stairs, and lost his cane, which was alleged to have been wrested from him by the aid-de-camp. The charge of larceny was absurd, and the grand jury ignored the indictment. But the assault could neither be denied nor justified, and the traverser submitted, pleaded "guilty," and was fined five pounds. That punishment did not cure his propensity for beating Frenchmen and taking their _sticks_. On the 21st of June, 1813, he beat Marshal Jourdan at Vittoria, and captured his _baton_; and on the 18th of June, 1815, at Waterloo, he beat the greatest Frenchman that ever lived, Napoleon Bonaparte. I do not feel justified in naming the delinquent aid-de-camp, and perhaps the reader may think it quite unnecessary that I should.