The Irish Soldier

In the auUmn of 1825, some private affaire callad me into the sister kiogdoni : and as I did net travel, like P0I3 pbemus vvith my eyes out I gfithered a few samples of Irish efaar. eter, among which was tho lellowing incident : I was standing ono morning at tho uiüdow of '■' mine ion', wlien my fittention was atti'aeted by u .scène that took place beoeath. The Bellast coach was standing at the door, and on the roof in front, sat a solitary outside passenger, a fine young fellow, in the uniform of the Coonaugbt vangers. Below, bv the front whcel, stood an old wonmn. eeenürigly bis mot hor, a young man and a young uoiiian, sister or sweelheart ; and they wei e all earnestly entreatiog the young soldier to descend froni his aeat on the coach. "Come down wid ye, Thady ;" the speaker the old womun. " Uome down now to vou ould mother. abure it'stlog ye they wil!, and .-trip the llesh olï the bones I giv ye. Come dowQ, Tbady, darlin!" " It's honor, mother," was the short reply of the soldier; and, with clenched hands and set teetli, ha took u stitFer posture on the coach. 'Thady, come down - come down now, ye fooi ol the world - come along down wid yo I" The tone of the present uppeal was more promptly and sternly pronounced. " It's honor, brother !" and the body of the speaker rose inoro ngidly erect ;han ever o;i the roof. " Oh, Thady, como down ! Shure it's me, your own K;.thleen, that bids ye. Come down, or ye'll break t.he heartof me, Thady, Jewel ; come down, thoa !" The poor girl rung her hands as she said il, and cast a ook upward, that had visible etïeet on the muscles of the Boidier's eountenance. There was more tenderness in hia tone, but it conveved the same resolution as betore. "It's honor - honor, bright Katheen !" aod as if to delend himseli frotn jnother glance, he tixed his looks steadiastly in front, white the renewcd enentreaties burst from all three in chorus with the same answer. "Come down, Thady, honeyl Thady, ye fooi, come down ! Oh, Thady, co.ne down to me !" '' It's liouor, mother! It's honor, brother ! Honor bright, my own Kath leen !" Aïthough the poor fellow was a private, this appeal was so public, that I did Bot hesitale to go down ai.d inquira into the particulars of the distress. It appeared that he had been home on u imiough, to visit his family, and having exceeded as he thoughl, the term ol liis leave, he was going to rejoin his regiment, and to undergo the penalty of his neglect. I asked him when the futlough ex pi red. "The lirst of Harch, your honor - bad luck to it, oí all tho black diys in the world -and hero it is, come sudden on me like a shoc.'1 "The ñrst of Marcb! - hy, my good fellow, you have a duy to spaie then - the tirst ot Müich vv!U uot be here till to-monow It is leap year, and Februury has twenty-uiue d.is.:' The soldier wau tiiiinderstruck. " Twetity iiiuu days is it ? You're sartin ot tbat s;.ine V O mother, moth er '.- ill luck Öy away wid yer ould almanuc- a base ereature of a book, to be deceaven one after living go long in the family of us.'' His tirst impulse was to cut a caper on the roof oi the coach,. and throw up big cap, with a loud hurrah ! Uis seconcl was to throw himseli ato tho anus of his Kathleen, and the third was to wring my hand off in acknowledgement. " ït'y a happy man I ara, your honor for my word's savcd, and all by your honor'n means. Long lifu to your honor Sor the same ! May you live a huudred and leap-years every one ol them."