CHAPTER III.
TRICKS UPON TRAVELLERS.
A curious and vastly pleasing fashion prevails in that part of Ireland where I was so nearly bewitched as almost to forget my ship, my duties, and everything else, but beauty! When a party, such as I have been describing, had passed a certain time together, they seldom broke up entirely, but generally shifted, or emigrated in a body (flitted, I think they used to call it) to the house of some one of their number.
Now and then various members of the group dropped off by the way, but their places were presently filled up by others, who soon found their way to the new hive when the well-known sounds of festivity were heard in the neighbourhood.
In this manner the party, into which I had been so kindly admitted, made several moves, with sundry losses and accessions to its numbers; and as every day rendered this life more and more grateful, I could scarcely bear to think of returning to the tame occupations and rugged society of the frigate, the duties of which had so recently been my greatest and most sincere delight.

Meanwhile, since my good-natured captain, and still better-natured messmates, made no difficulties about this protracted absenteeism, I continued to involve myself deeper and deeper at every step.

I failed not to perceive at times that I was getting into rather a dangerous scrape for a younger son and a young officer, who had yet to work his own way in the world.

But as these reflections interfered rather impertinently with the enjoyments of the hour, they were crushed down, and kept out of sight as much as possible at that gay period.
What surprised me most, all this time, was the air of refinement and high polish in the Irish society amongst which I was thus casually thrown.

I had previously entertained an idea that their hospitality, proverbial in all parts of the world, was of a rude and rather troublesome description.