d, and Dublin greatly surprised
him by appearing to be so much larger and more populous than he had
supposed. He found it to have altogether an unexpectedly thriving look,
being pretty nigh as big, he first thought, as Paris; of which some
places in it, such as the quays on the river, reminded him. Half the
first day he was there, he took to explore it; walking till tired, and
then taking a car. "Power, dressed for the character of Teddy the Tiler,
drove me: in a suit of patches, and with his hat unbrushed for twenty
years. Wonderfully pleasant, light, intelligent, and careless."[228] The
number of common people he saw in his drive, "also riding about in cars
as hard as they could split," brought to his recollection a more distant
scene, and but for the dresses he could have thought himself on the
Toledo at Naples.

In respect of the number of his audience, and their reception of him,
Dublin was one of his marked successes. He came to have some doubt of
their capacity of receiving the pathetic, but of their quickness as to
the humorous there could be no question, any more than of their
heartiness. He got on wonderfully well with the Dublin people.[229] The
Boots at Morrison's expressed the general feeling in a patriotic point
of view. "He was waiting for me at the hotel door last night. 'Whaat
sart of a hoose sur?' he asked me. 'Capital.' 'The Lard be praised fur
the 'onor 'o Dooblin!'" Within the hotel, on getting up next morning, he
had a dialogue with a smaller resident, landlord's son he supposed, a
little boy of the ripe age of six, which he presented, in his letter to
his sister-in-law, as a colloquy between Old England and Young Ireland
inadequately reported for want of the "imitation" it required for its
full effect. "I am sitting on the sofa, writing, and find him sitting
beside me.

"_Old England._ Halloa old chap.

"_Young Ireland._ Hal--loo!

"_Old England_ (in his delightful way). What a nice old fellow you are.
I am very fond of little boys.

"_Young Ireland._ Air yes? Ye'r right.

"_Old England._ What do you learn, old fellow?

"_Young Ireland_ (very intent on Old England, and always childish except
in his brogue). I lairn wureds of three sillibils--and wureds of two
sillibils--and wureds of one sillibil.

"_Old England_ (cheerfully). Get out, you humbug! You learn only words
of one syllable.

"_Young Ireland_ (laughs heartily). You may say that it is mostly wureds
of one sillibil.

"_Old En