Twenty Years' Recollections of an Irish Police MagistratePorter, Frank Thorpe
History
Twenty Years' Recollections of an Irish Police Magistrate
Porter, Frank Thorpe
Crime -- Ireland; Criminals -- Ireland; Ireland -- Social life and customs; Porter, Frank Thorpe, 1801-1882
They had been invited to an early evening party at Summer Hill. They
were not inclined to walk such a distance, and neither of them found it
convenient to pay for a vehicle. At last the one who subsequently
complained of being termed a swindler and blackguard said that he would
get a covered car without payment. Accordingly, having walked to the
nearest "hazard," he desired his comrade to get into a car, and also
seated himself, he then directed the driver to proceed "to Santry."
"Santry!" explained the astonished jarvey; "is it joking you are? D----l
an inch I'll go to Santry to-night. Get out of my car if you plaze, the
baste is tired, and I won't go." "My good fellow," was the answer, "I
shall not get out, and you may as well get on at once." "By gorra, if
you don't get out, I'll pull you out," said the carman. "If you lay a
finger on me," answered the occupant, "I will resist you as well as I
can, and I shall prosecute you for an assault." It was a bad business.
The carman changed his tactics. "Why, yer honor," he mildly urged, "it
is an unrasonable thing to ax a man to go to such a place even in the
day time, for there's nothin but murdher and robbery on that b----y
road, an' if I _do_ go, we'll be all kilt, and you'll be robbed into the
bargain; shure you haven't right sinse to think of such a jaunt." "My
friend," said the fare, "there may be something in what you say, but I
shall call at a house on Summer Hill and get firearms for myself and my
companion, and with two case of pistols I fear no robbers." The carman
grumbled, but he had a sturdy customer, so he mounted his seat and drove
on. When they came to Summer Hill he was desired to pull up, and the two
sparks alighted, assuring him that they would immediately procure the
arms and resume their journey. As soon as they were inside the
hall-door, the jarvey plied his whip, and rattled off as fast as he
could, congratulating himself that he had escaped a drive to Santry, and
leaving the two scamps to enjoy the joke of having got a gratuitous
jaunt from Harcourt Street to Summer Hill.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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