Anxious to learn the name of so gifted an individual, he turned towards his hitherto silent neighbour and demanded who he was.
"'Who is he, is it ?' said Denis, hesitatingly, as if he half doubted such extent of ignorance as not to know the person alluded to.
"Mr.Peel bowed in acquiescence.
"'That's Bushe!' said Denis, giving at the same time the same sound to the vowel, u, as it obtains when occurring in the word 'rush.' "'I beg pardon,' said Mr.Peel, 'I did not hear.' "'Bushe!' replied Denis, with considerable energy of tone.
"'Oh, yes! I know,' said the secretary, 'Mr.Bushe, a very distinguished member of your bar, I have heard.' "'Faith, you may say that!' said Denis, tossing off his wine at what he esteemed a very trite observation.
"'Pray,' said Mr.Peel, again returning to the charge, though certainly feeling not a little surprised at the singular laconicism of his informant, no less than the mellifluous tones of an accent then perfectly new to him.

'Pray, may I ask, what is the peculiar character of Mr.
Bushe's eloquence?
I mean of course, in his professional capacity.' "'Eh!' said Denis, 'I don't comprehend you exactly.' "'I mean,' said Mr.Peel, 'in one word, what's his forte ?' "'His forte!' "'I mean what his peculiar gift consists in--' "'Oh, I perceave--I have ye now--the juries!' "'Ah! addressing a jury.' "'Ay, the juries.' "'Can you oblige me by giving me any idea of the manner in which he obtains such signal success in this difficult branch of eloquence.' "'I'll tell ye,' said Denis, leisurely finishing his glass, and smacking his lips, with the air of a man girding up his loins for a mighty effort, 'I'll tell ye--well, ye see the way he has is this,'-- here Mr.Peel's expectation rose to the highest degree of interest,--'the way he has is this--he first butthers them up, and then slithers them down! that's all, devil a more of a secret there's in it.'" How much reason Denis had to boast of imparting early information to the new secretary I leave my English readers to guess; my Irish ones I may trust to do him ample justice.
My friend now left me to my own devices to while away the hours till time to dress for dinner.

Heaven help the gentleman so left in Dublin, say I.
It is, perhaps, the only city of its size in the world, where there is no lounge--no promenade.

Very little experience of it will convince you that it abounds in pretty women, and has its fair share of agreeable men; but where are they in the morning?
I wish Sir Dick Lauder, instead of speculating where salmon spent the Christmas holidays, would apply his most inquiring mind to such a question as this.

True it is, however, they are not to be found.