the town and lands of
Kilmuray-nabachlish, Ballaghy, and Gregnaslattery, the property of
Cornelius O'Dowd, Esq. of Dowd's Folly, in the same county.

Now the above-recited lands, measuring seven hundred and fourteen acres,
two roods, and eleven perches, statute measure, were mine, and I am the
Cornelius O'Dowd, Esq., referred to in the same paragraph.

Though it is perfectly true that, what between mortgages, settlement
claims, and bonds, neither my father nor myself owned these lands any
more than we did the island of Jamaica, it was a great blow to me to be
sold out; for, somehow or other, one can live a long time in Ireland on
parchment--I mean on the mere documents of an estate that has long
since passed away; but if you come once to an open sale and Judge Dobbs,
there's an end of you, and you'll not get credit for a pair of shoes the
day after.

My present reason for addressing you does not require that I should go
into my family history, or mention more of myself than that I was called
to the Bar in '42; that I stood an unsuccessful election for Athlone;
that I served as a captain in the West Coast Rifles; that I married a
young lady of great personal attractions; and completed my misfortunes
by taking the chairmanship of the Vichnasehneshee silver mines, that
very soon left me with nothing but copper in my own pocket, and sent me
to Judge Dobbs and his Court on the Inns Quay.

Like the rest of my countrymen, I was always hoping the Government would
"do something" for me. I have not missed a levee for fourteen years,
and I have shown the calves of my legs to every viceroyalty since Lord
Clarendon's day; but though they all joked and talked very pleasantly
with me, none said, "O'Dowd, we must do something for you;" and if it
was to rain commissionerships in lunacy, or prison inspectorships, I
don't believe one would fall upon C. O'D. I never knew rightly how it
was, but though I was always liked at the Bar mess, and made much of on
circuit, I never got a brief. People were constantly saying to me, "Con,
if you were to do this, that, or t'other," you'd make a hit; but it
was always conditional on my being somewhere, or doing something that I
never had attempted before.

It was clear, if I was the right man, I wasn't in the right place; and
this was all the more provoking, because, let me do what I would, some
one was sure to exclaim, "Con, my boy, don't try that; it is certainly
not your line." "What a capital