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"PAUL DOHERTY'S VISIT TO SQUIRE
BEAMTON'S.
(From the Dublin Penny Journal.)
"In that beautiful city called Cork"
there dwelt, some twenty years ago, a
snuff and tobacco manufacturer, named
Paul Doherty, who had lately turned to
that trade, having become too far advanced
in life to follow his former profession of
"teacher of dancing, and all other kinds
of music," in which he had acquired
good store of celebrity. He was a plain,
homely man, rather large in his person,
very oddly dressed, and so wedded to
old times and old habits, that it was
impossible to get him to "look like a
Christian," as poor Mrs. Doherty, the
dear woman, used to say, when she
would wish him to lay aside his bushed
wig and old ruffles, and his three-cornered
hat, all of which contributed in no small
degree to the grotesqueness of his appear-
ance. But these little oddities had
pleasing associations for Mr. Doherty's
recollection, as he put them on religiously
every day, and seated himself after break-
fast on the pipe-chest facing his shop
door, humming "Nora Creena" in a
pleasing drone-like growl, while he kept
time with his heels swinging against the
side of the chest, as they hung down,
but did not reach the flags of the shop
door. Mrs. Doherty, good soul, minded
the shop, scolded the kitchen wench,
abused the cow-boy, mended the stock-
ings, and, in short, did every thing else
she could to please Mr. Doherty; who
scarcely minded anything but his corns
when the customers came in.
One forenoon, as Paul was seated on
his favourite chest, and Mrs. Doherty was
washing up the tea tackle in a little
"glory-hole" off the shop, a tall, fashion-
able, elderly gentleman came in, and
asked to see Mr. Doherty.
"Well, Sir," says Paul, stopping short
his tune of "Nora Creena" with a sudden
grunt, as he turned his head sideways,
and cocked his eye at the new customer,
"and so you want to see Mister Doherty,
Sir?"
"Yes," was the reply.
"Id's like you don't know him?"
continued Paul.
"I have not that pleasure yet," replied
the stranger.
"Pleasure!--aisy now--Pleasure,
avick! Sure isn't it myself you're speak-
ing to all the time!"
"Are you Mr. Doherty, then?"
"Troth I am, barring I was changed
at nurse."
"I'm very happy to see you, Mr.
Doherty. My name is Beamton--I live
on the Parade."
"I'm proud of it," replied Paul--
"its often I heard tell of you, and I know
you are come of mighty grand people
intirely. But I may be so bowld as to
ax you what business you have with your
humble sarvint?"
"Business!" said Mr. Beamton--
"oh! none in the world. I have only
come to pay my respects to you. I am
under many compliments to a son of
yours whom I met in Paris."
"You did not indeed Sir," said Paul
--"its unpossible--he is in France at
present."
"Well, it makes no difference," replied
Mr. Beamton--"it's all the same."
"How the puck cud it be all the same,
Sir?" said Paul. "Sure, I beg your
pardon--you're quite mistaken; haven't
I Tom's geography, and isn't Paris at the
foot of the Kinnear Islands, at the top
of the Gulf of Mexico, while France is
a small village in the island of Mediter-
ranean, in the sea of Marimachi, in
South America" Ou wow! maybe I
can't tell their latitudes after travellin'
all the way from Brustil to Wathurford."
"Well, we won't quarrel about that,"
replied Mr. Beamton; ''but, at all events,
have you not a son named Tom?"
"By my fate, I have," answered Paul
--"that's his name surely."
"Well," said Mr. Beamton, "I met
him abroad, where he saved my life, and
was so kind and attentive to me, that I
wish to return the compliment to you in
any way that lies in my power."
"And so you saw Tom, Sir, abroad?"
said Paul earnestly. "Arrah, Betty,'"
he added, turning to Mrs. Doherty,
"throw by them kimmeens, and come
speak to the gentleman--sure he seen Tom
abroad.--Is Tom as fat as he was when
he wint, Sir?"
"I don't know--I did not see him be-
fore; but he looks remarkably well at
present."
"I'll be bound Tom was fixing you a
good deal about the crop of potatoes that
he finished before he went?"
"I can't say he was," Mr. Beamton
replied--"it was as my physician that he
attended me."
"Tom's a clever chap, Sir--he'd pick
up any thing. Here, Betty, dust that
chair, and let the gentleman sit down.
Sit down, Sir, sit down. And so Tom's
getting lusty, Sir? D'ye think he'll fall
into flesh? He takes after his mother's
side."
"Excuse me for not sitting down--
my time is limited. I should be delighted
to tell you all about your son; and will
give you a good deal of pleasing news of
him, if you will do me the favour of
dining with me to-day."
"Troth, Sir, to be plain with you, I'd
rather dine at home."
"Oh, Mr. Doherty," replied Mr.
Beamton, "you shall make yourself
quite at home with me. 'Pon my honor,
you shall--you must come."
"What time do you dine, Sir?" asked
Paul.
"At six o'clock."
"Oh, I couldn't go, Sir--I'd never
hold out till that. I never get my
dinner later nor two o'clock. Why sure
a man ought to be going to bed at six.
Was it from Tom you larned such out-
landish hours? Do you know what, Sir,
when he was at home he wouldn't be
done his breakfast till he'd be going to
bed, though he used to begin it when
he'd get up--he commonly made but one
meal in the day, but it lasted from morn-
ing to night."
"Indeed, Mr. Doherty, I'll take no
excuse, you must come to dine at six."
"Arrah, Betty, do you hear this?"
said Paul to his wife.
"Go, Paul avick," she replied, "it
may sarve Tom."
"Faix, an' may be so," said Paul.
"Well, Sir, as you won't be put off,
I'll go and dine with you at six."
"Well, good by--I shall expect you
punctually--farewell!
And here Mr. Beamton made his bow
and withdrew; but as the subsequent
part of our narration cannot be given in
the third person, we must leave it to Mr.
Doherty himself to describe the entertain-
ments of the evening. We have taken
some pains to give his own words verba-
tim, which are as follows:--
"When Squire Beamton left the shop,
as you may well suppose, I wint and
brushed up my duds, and blackened my
pumps, and put on my buckles, and
waited patiently till it was nearly three
o'clock. But faix, maybe I didn't pay
for my gintility. Howsomdever, sis I,
'I'll bear every thing for Tom's sake."
So I passed it over as well as I could,
and thought every hour a day long, till
it was near six, and time for myself to be
off, for I had a mile of ground to walk
to the Parade. So I took my cane, and
my gloves, and I sauntered along very
leisurely till I kem to the Parade; and
as I had the number of the door reckoned
upon my fingers, I knew I could make
no mistake; and when I counted the
steps, I looked up, and sorra a finer
house and place ever I laid my two look-
ing eyes upon than. Square Beamton's,
with a hall-door big enough for a bishop,
and the full of your fist of a brass wrap-
per on it, not to talk of a beautiful brass
plate with an illigant big B, and an E
after it, and thin at A and that at M,
making B, E, A, M, Beam.
" 'Right;' sis I, 'this is the place;'
and I lifted up the big brass rapper, and
give a pound that wud drive a twenty-
penny nail into the hilt. Presently the
door was opened mighty smart, and a gin-
tleman with a green coat, and a powdered
head, and bunches of gold strings from
his shoulders, a red breeches and white
stockings, axed myself, very snappishly
entirely, did I mane to knock down the
house?
"No, Sir, in troth, thin,' sis I 'it
isn't myself 'ud hurt a hair of its head.'
'Then what do you want?' sis he,
mighty cross entirely.
" 'Why, thin, in truth, sis I 'it's
Misther Beamton I want,' sis I.
" 'You can't see him,' sis he, slapping
the door in my face.
" 'Thunder-an'-turf,' sis I to myself,
'isn't this mighty dacent treatment?'
"Well, after waiting a long while, sis
I to myself, 'I'll try again for Tom's
sake, not to talk of the starvation that's
in my stomach this minit on account of
keeping my appetite for the gentleman's
dinner, that he promised to give me.' So
I gave another rap and the same gintle-
man opened the door again, and looked
mighty wicked; but afore he had time to
say a word,
" 'I ax your Reverence's pardon, Sir,'
sis I, 'but isn't Mr. Beaten at home;
an' sure he axed me to dine with him, an'
this is square thratement.'
"What is your name? sis he, mighty
polite.
"Paul Doherty, Sir,' sis I, takin'
off my hat, an' showin' him my manners.
" 'I beg your pardon, Sir,' sis he;
'come in av you please.' And so he I
bowed and scraped twice as low as I did,
showing me the way all the time. When
he shut the door, 'Will you show me
your hat, Sir,' sis he, mighty polite
entirely.
" 'Indeed an' I will, an' welcome,
Sir,' sis I; 'it was made by Beahan, in
Patrick-street, an' cost but fifteen shil-
lin's--a very dacent man, if you want to
buy one.'
" 'Oh, I don't mane that, Sir,' sis he,
'be pleased to give me your hat.'
" 'Give it to you?' sis I. 'Arrah be
asy,' sis I, 'wud you have me go home
in the night air without a hat?'
".'Oh, no, Sir,' sis he; 'you mistake
me--I only want to put by your hat for
you till you are goin' home.'
" 'Sorra thrust you,' sis I, 'what wud
make me give you my hat at all at all,--
can't I take care of it myself?'
" 'Oh, sir,' sis he, thrustin' out his
hand for it, 'every gintleman that dines
here gives me his hat to take care of.'
"Well, you see the fellow was so per-
suasive that there was no gettin' over it.
So, sis I, 'Oh, very well, plase your
Reverence, put it in a clane place,' sis I;
an' he tuck it and put it by.
" 'I'd thank you for you cane,' sis
another gintleman to me, as we passed
him by.
" 'What for?' sis I.
" 'To put it by for you, Sir,' sis he,
as we do for every other gintleman.'
" 'Oh, very well,' sis I, handin' him
the cane, like an omedhaun of a fool that
I was
" 'I'll take care of your gloves, Sir,'
says a third, catching them by the
fingers.
" 'Och hone,' sis I, 'can't I put them
in my pocket?'
" 'Oh, no, Sir,' sis he, 'that's not the
way in this house.'
" 'Well, here, take them,' sis I. 'I
must bear it all for your sake, Tom,' sis
I to myself, as I follied the first gentleman,
who becked me after him up stairs, upon
a green carpet, that you didn't hear the
thread of his feet on. So up I climed
quite close to him, till we got to the top;
and he steps over to a door, and flings it
open, crying out at the top of his voice--
'Mr. Doherty, Sir!'
'What the deuce do you want wid
him,' sis I, in a voice as loud as his,--
did not you know well enough that I was
jist at your heels?'
"But he never minded me, only
stepped into the room another step or two,
and roars out, 'Mr. Dogherty!' twice as
loud.
" 'Och, then, sweet bad lack to your
impudence,' sis I, you thievin rascal, is it
for this that you made me leave my stick
below, afraid I'd give you the length and
breadth of it. Don't you see me here,
you jackeen? sis I, threatening my fist at
him, but he was only laughing at me when
out come Squire Beamton.
'You're heartily welcome, sir,' sis
he: 'I hope nothing is the matter with
you?'
" 'Thank you, sir,' sis I, 'not much
only the liberty that gintleman takes with
my name.'
"But he only laughed, and took me
under the arm, and brought me forninst a
parcel of ladies, who were stuffing their
praskeens down their throats to smother
the laughing the minut they saw my own
self.
" 'Sarvint ginteels,' sis I, in real qua-
lity form, and bowing down to the very
ground.
" 'This Masther Doherty,' sis his
honour, taking me by the hand, and bow-
ing wid me.
" 'God save all here,' sis I, not for-
getting my manners to give the third and
last bow, but the quality only nodded at
myself, which I thought mighty unpo-
lite.
" 'Och in truth,' sis I to myself, 'the
creatures are not to be blamed, when they
never took a lesson from the renowned
and celebrated Paul Doherty, teacher of
dancing, and all kinds of music.'
"So the squire made me sit down, and
it was thin, to be sure, that I admired
the very beautiful pictures, and the
tea-pots full of flowers, and the carpets;
but sorra a sign of the dinner myself saw,
though I thought the very inside would
dhrop out of me with the hunger.
" 'Och, Tom, Tom,' sis I to myself,
'isn't it purty thratement I'm bearin' for
your sake?'
"But there was no use in complaining,
and so I turned to look at the beautiful
windee curtain, at the top of which two
sarpints were peepin' out forninst one
another, ready to pounce down upon us,
when I hears the same fellow that brought
me up stairs roar out, 'Dinner on the
table;' and upon looking about, not a
sign of a wall was there, but what had
been whipped away by enchantment, and
there stood the dinner upon the white
table-cloth, as beautiful as a corpse at a
wake. All the ladies and gintlemen
present stood up, and, by coorse, so did
myself.
" 'Mr. Doherty,' sis the squire.
" 'Sir?' sis I.
" 'Will you take Mrs. Beamton's
hand?' sis he.
" 'What call have I to her hand, Sir,'
sis I; 'can't you, that's her husband, an'
has the best right to it, take it, Sir,'
sis I.
" 'Do, Sir, if you please,' sis he, 'for
we are only going to dinner--I only ask
you to lead her to the chair.'
" ''Deed faith,' says I, 'barring to
oblige you for a short time, it would be
contrary to my religion to do the likes
wid any man's wife, and my own alive.'
"But they all fell a laughing as I tuck
Mrs. Beamton, and led her to the table.
" 'Faith I will, Sir,' sis I.
" 'What shall I help you to? sis he.
" 'Some of that pork, Sir,' sis I.
" 'It's not pork,' sis he, 'it's ham.'
" 'Well, ham's pork,' sis I, for, you
see, I didn't like them to have all the
laugh to themselves.
" 'You're right, sis he, sendin' me a
plate full of it, well bolstered on cabbage;
and, faix, I stuck in it like a hungry
hawk.
" 'Mr. Doherty,' sis the squire.
" 'Sir?' sis I, laying down my knife
and fork on my plate, and looking at his
honour.
" 'I hope you're helped to your likin','
sis he.
" 'Mighty well, I tha-----,' but deuce a
plate I had, for the thievin' villains in the
red breeches behind the chairs had stole
away my place while I was talkin' to his
honour. 'Oh murdher, murdher,' sis I
to myself, 'isn't this fine thratement I'm
sufferin' for your sake, Tom?'
"But before I could say another word,
a black-faced fellow of them claps a dish
of chopped nettles afore me; and seein'
I could do no better, I began bolting it
into me, when he runs back and whips
it up from afore once again, sayin',
'Oh, by your leave, sir, mistress wants
some spirits, and off he scampered with
it.
" 'The mistress is looking at you,' said
the squire.
" 'She's welcome, sir,' sis I.
" 'She's looking at you,' sis he, laying
his hand on the decanter.
" 'Confound it, sir,' sis I, 'what's
amiss wid me,' looking at my clothes,
to see if all my buttons was fast.
" 'Oh, she only wants to take wine
with you, sis he.
" 'Thank you and her sir,' sis I.
" 'Your health sir,' sis she.
" 'God bless your own purty counte-
nance, madam, sis I; but bad luck to the
more than a thimble full the stingy fel-
low was after giving her in the glass.
'Och hone, och hone,' sis I to myself,
'he helps her as he likes her, may be;'
and I pitied the cratur. So I was de-
termined to watch my opportunity, and
when thought he wasn't looking, I
nodded to her, and pointing to the decan-
ter, lifting my glass at the same time,
which she understood, for she smiled,
and helped herself; but she was so much
afeard of him, that sorra a more than a
toothful she put in it, in spite of all the
nods and winks and pointing to my full
glass, that I could throw at her. 'Thun-
and turf!' sis I to myself, (thinking
of Betty at the same time) hasn't he her
under great cow entirely. And while all
this was was going on, the sorrw a skreed
the fellow behind the chairs left on the
table, but what they had whipped away
with them. 'Och, ye villains, sis I in
my teeth, finding I was put off with a
mouthful of a dinner--'Oh, ye villains,
if I had you in my tobacco press, maybe
I wouldn't give you a squeeze that would
take the conceit out of you.'
"But there was no use in talking;
up they came as imprudent as ever, and
placed forninst each of us a great bowl
half full of water, and a towel beside it;
and myself, not knowing what they meant
at all at all, was watching to see what
every one else would do, when the squire
says to me,
" 'Mr. Doherty.'
" 'Sir? sis I.
" 'Make use of that water,' sis he,
'till we get at the claret.'
" 'Yes, Sir,' sis I, takin' up the bowl
between my two hands, an' throwin' my-
self back on my chair, wid my mouth
wide open, I gulped the whole of the
water down in one swallow, till it filled
me up to the chin, though there was not
the full of an egg-shell in my body afore,
barrin' a trifle of chopped nettles I got
by chance; but, och, och, och, mavour-
neen, the cold water began to make
such a-----oh, it almost gives me the cholic
now to think of it--such a rumbling an'
tumbling, and shivering and shaking, that
heartily the squire and the ladies laughed
at me, and the sorrow a wrinkle was on
my own stomach in a pair of an minits.
" 'Na hana-man-douhl,' sis I to the
squire, in a pig's whisper, 'but I'm fairly
done over. You must excuse me, squire
jewel,' sis I, 'for I'm off; but I'm in a
mortal great hurry, an' there's no back
doors for me, but to be gone as quick as
I can. Oh, Tom dear, what I suffer for
your sake!'
" 'There is a------,' sis he, whisperin' behind
his hand to me,
" 'Oh, no, no, avourneen,' sis I,
squeezin' my guts, an' makin' out of the
room an' down stairs as if I had not a
minit to live.
" 'Your hat, Sir,' sis the first fellow I
met at the foot of the stairs, givin' it a
nate touch with his sleeve.
" 'Thank you,' sis I, takin' it from
him.
" 'Hope you won't forget me, Sir--
always get a tinpenny or two.'
" 'Oh, murdher,' sis I, drawin' out a
tinpenny like a tooth, from my breeches-
pocket, 'what I suffer for your sake,
Tom honey!' and here I had to squeeze
my stomach again.
" 'Your gloves, Sir, says another
fellow nicely; and I hope you won't
forget me, Sir.'
" 'Oh, Tom, Tom,' sis I, pulling out
another tinpenny for him.
" 'Your cane, Sir,' sis a third, handin
it to me; 'I took great care of it, Sir,
hope you won't forget me.'
" 'Oh, oh, Tom, Tom,' sis I, groan-
ing, as I pulled out a third tinpenny and
gave it to him. 'Let me out now, gin-
tlemen,' sis I, as they opened the door,
and bowed and scraped enough to make
a body think them the rale sort; and
sure enough I did get out, and right glad
I was, as you may suppose, to feel myself
clear and clean out of the clutches of
such a set of blood-suckers. And sis I
to myself, as soon as the door was shut
after me, 'Arrah, thin, Paul Doherty,
honey, may the worst of bad loock attend
yees the next time ye're ever again cotched
under sich a place as Squire Beamton's
dining-table, if there were ten times as
many pretty women there. Oh, Tom,
Tom, avourneen, what a power I suffered
for your sake this night. May ye never
have to suffer as much for me, I pray--
Amin!' "
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