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A Budget Of Blunders

Jests Home




PERHAPS the best concentrated specimen of blunders, such as occur in all
nations, but which, of course, are fathered upon Paddy wholesale, as if
by common consent, is the following:--

Copy of a Letter, written during the Rebellion by Sir ----, an Irish
Member of Parliament, to his friend in London.

MY DEAR SIR,--

Having now a little peace and quietness, I sit down to inform you of the
dreadful bustle and confusion we are in from these blood-thirsty
rebels, most of whom are, I'm glad to say, killed and dispersed. We are
in a pretty mess, can get nothing to eat, nor wine to drink, except
whiskey, and when we sit down to dinner we are obliged to keep both
hands armed. Whilst I write this, I hold a sword in each hand and a
pistol in the other. I concluded from the beginning that this would be
the end of it, and I see I was right, for it is not half over yet. At
present there are such goings on that everything is at a standstill. I
should have answered your letter a fortnight ago, but I did not receive
it till this morning. Indeed, scarcely a mail arrives safe without being
robbed. No longer ago than yesterday the coach with the mails from
Dublin was robbed near this town; the bags had been judiciously left
behind for fear of accident, and by good luck there was nobody in it but
two outside passengers, who had nothing for the thieves to take. Last
Thursday notice was given that a gang of rebels was advancing here under
the French standard, but they had no colors, nor any drums except
bagpipes. Immediately every man in the place, including women and
children, ran out to meet them. We soon found our force much too little;
we were far too near to think of retreating. Death was in every face,
but to it we went, and, by the time half our little party were killed,
we began to be all alive again. Fortunately the rebels had no guns,
except pistols, cutlasses, and pikes, and as we had plenty of muskets
and ammunition, we put them all to the sword. Not a soul of them
escaped, except some that were drowned in an adjacent bog, and, in a
very short time, nothing was to be heard but silence. Their uniforms
were all different colors, but mostly green. After the action we went to
rummage a sort of camp, which they had left behind them. All we found
was a few pikes, without heads, a parcel of empty bottles full of water,
and a bundle of French commissions filled up with Irish names. Troops
are now stationed all round the country, which exactly squares with my
ideas.

I have only time to add that I am in great haste.

Yours truly,
---- ----.





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