rrived at Cork once, and had to fight his way through a
dense throng to get into court. On inquiring the reason of the crowd, he
was told that everybody wanted to hear the big speech that was expected
from Councillor Barry.

'Well, unless you make way for me it's disappointed every mother's son
of you will be, for I am twin to Councillor Barry, and I never heard
tell he had a brother.'

He carried on the old-fashioned habit of after-dinner conviviality, and
used to sit drinking three hours after the wine had been put on the
table, which was why I never accepted his hospitality in after years,
for, as I said before, I am a man of moderation.

In my young days it was the regular thing to bring in whisky-punch after
dinner; and for many years I regularly took one tumbler and never had a
second, not once to the best of my recollection.

There is a good deal of change in the habits of life. When I was a boy
coffee was unknown for breakfast, cocoa had not become known as a
beverage, and tea was regularly drunk. We seldom took lunch, nor did the
ladies, and afternoon tea was unheard of. Instead, tea was brought into
the drawing-room about eight in the evening, and was always drunk very
weak and sweet. In those times it was invariably from China and pretty
costly.

We dined at five. Dinners were very solid. Soup was a pretty regular
opening, but could be dispensed with without comment, and it was almost
always greasy. At Dingle fish was pretty plentiful, but sweets were
regarded as a great extravagance.

I remember, when grown up, dining with an elderly man near Cahirciveen,
who had a turbot for which he must have paid at least eight shillings,
but he apologised for not having a pudding on account of the necessity
for economy, though a pudding would not have cost him eightpence.

Made dishes were very few and badly cooked. The food was chiefly joints,
and, in nine cases out of ten, roast mutton. Vegetables were not so much
eaten as now, always excepting potatoes, which were consumed in large
quantities. There was practically no fruit, except a few apples and
oranges at Christmas.

Men sat very long over their wine. Sherry used to be served at dinner
and often claret afterwards, but the great beverage was port. I am
inclined to think that port has sensibly deteriorated since my young
days. It was as a rule more fruity then, but we never talked of our
livers, as subalterns and undergraduates do nowadays.

Port used to