In the
violence of the struggle, poor Teddy O'Rafferty was doomed to experience
another upset before his remains were consigned to the tomb; for just at
the moment that a posse of watchmen and night-constables arrived to
put an end to the broil, such was the panic of the assailants that in
rushing towards the bed to conceal themselves from the _charlies_, they
tumbled poor Teddy head over heels to the floor of his shed, leaving
his head's antipodes sticking up where his head should have been; a
~33~~circumstance that more than any thing else contributed to appease
the inflamed passions of the group, who, shocked at the sacrilegious
insult they had committed, immediately sounded a parley, and united to
reinstate poor Teddy O'Rafferty in his former situation. This was the
signal for Horace and myself to proceed round to the front door, and
pretending we were strangers excited by curiosity, succeeded, by a
little well-timed flattery and a small trifle to drink our good healths,
in freeing the assailants from all the horrors of a watch-house, and
eventually of restoring peace and unanimity. It was now past midnight;
leaving therefore poor Barney O'Finn to attend mass, and pay the last
sad tribute to his departed relative, on the morning of the morrow
we once more bent our steps towards home, laughing as we went at the
strange recollections of the wake, the row, and last appearance of Teddy
O'Rafferty.
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