A STORY OF THE IRISH BRIGADE.
Among tho adventures recorded of the Irish Brigade in the service of France, one of the most amusing was an occurrence in the time of Lhe Regent Orleans, in honour of whose birthday a grand masquerade was given in Paths. It was a high-class affair ; tickets were a double Louis d’or each —all the rank and beauty of Paris were assembled round the Regent, and a costly and luxurious supper crowned Lhe attractions of die night. Whilst the entertainment was proceeding, one of the Prince’s suite approached, and whispered to him, “ It is worth your Royal Highness’s while to step into the supper rooms ; there is a yellow domino there, who is the most extraordinary cormorant ever witnessed ; lie is a prodigy, your Highness—ho never stops eating and diinking ; and the attendants say, moreover, that lie has not done so for some hours." His Royal Highness went accordingly ; and sure enough there was the yellow domino, laying about him as described, and swallowing everything as ravenously as if he had only just begun. Raised pies fell before him like garden railings before a field piece—pheasants and quails seemed to Uy down his throat in a little covey—the wine he drank threatened a scarcity, whatever might be the next vintage. After watching him for some time, the Duke acknowledged lie was a wonder, and laughingly left the room ; but shortly afterwards, on passing through another, he saw the yellow domino again, and as actively at work as ever, devastating the dishes everywhere, and emptying the champagne bottles as rapidly as they were brought to him. Perfectly amazed, the Duke at last could not restrain his curiosity. “ Who," lie asked, “ i 3 that insatiate ogre that threatens such annihilation to all the labours of our cooks!" Accordingly, one of the suite was despatched to him. “ Mis Royal i Highness the Duke of Orleans desires the
yellow domino to unmask." But the domino begged to be excused, pleading the privilege of masquerade. “There is a higher law," replied the officer —“ tho Royal order must be obeyed." “ Well, then," answered the incognito, “ if it must be so, it must"; and unmasking, exhibited the ruddy visage of an Irish trooper. “ Why, in the name of Polyphemus 1" exclaimed the Regent, as he advanced to him, “ who and what are you ? 1 have seen you eat and drink enough fora dozen men at least, and you yet seem as empty as ever." “ Well, then,” said tho trooper, “since the save rot must come out, plnse your Royal IHoliness, 1 am one of Glare’s Horse, that's the guard of honour tonight ; and when our men was ordered out, we clubbed our money to buy a ticket, and agreed to take our turn at the supper-table, turn and turn about." “What!" exclaimed the Duke, “ thu whole troop coming to supper! ” “Oh, it’s asy, plaso your Highness; sure, one domino would do for ail of us if ai'.ch Luk it in turn. I'm only the eighteenth man, and there’s twelve more of us to come." The loud laughter of tho jovial Duke, probably the heailiest he had had for a long time, was the response to this explanation, followed by a Louis d’or to the dragoon, and a promise to keep Ins “sayeret” till the whole troop had supped.
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Bibliographic details
New Zealand Mail, Issue 1260, 23 April 1896, Page 10
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556A STORY OF THE IRISH BRIGADE. New Zealand Mail, Issue 1260, 23 April 1896, Page 10
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