for a season, Let us be merry before we go. To joy a stranger, a wayworn ranger, In every danger my course I've run Now hope all ending, and death befriending, His last aid lending, my cares are done. No more a rover, or hapless lover, My griefs are over – my glass runs low; Then for that reason, and for a season, Let us be merry before we go." – ("The Deserter's Meditation")"O Erin how sweetly thy green bosom rises, An emerald set in the ring of the sea, Each blade of thy meadows my faithful heart prizes, Thou queen of the west, the world's cushla ma chree." His witticisms One night, Curran was dining with Justice Toler, a notorious "hanging judge". Toler: Curran, is that hung-beef? Curran: Do try it, my lord, then it is sure to be! A wealthy tobacconist, Lundy Foot, asked Curran to suggest a Latin motto for his coach. "I have just hit on it!', exclaimed Curran. "It is only two words, and it will explain your profession, your elevation, and your contempt for the people's ridicule; it has the advantage of being in two languages, Latin and English, just as the reader chooses. Put up "Quid Rides" upon your carriage!" (A quid was a lump of tobacco to be chewed, and also slang for a sovereign (£stg.1); "rides" is Irish slang for "has sexual intercourse"; in Latin "Quid rides" means: "why do you laugh"). Curran hated the Act of Union, which abolished the Parliament of Ireland and amalgamated it with that of Great Britain. The parliament had been housed in a splendid building in College Green, Dublin, which faced an uncertain future. "Curran, what do they mean to do with this useless building? For my part, I hate the very sight of it!" said one lord, who was for the Act of Union. "I do not wonder at it, my lord", said Curran contemptuously. "I have never yet heard of a murderer who is not afraid of a ghost." Curran arrived at court late one morning. The judge, Viscount Avonmore, demanded an explanation. "On my way to court, I passed through the market—" "Yes, I know, the Castle Market," interrupted Lord Avonmore. "Exactly, the Castle Market, and passing near one of the stalls, I beheld a brawny butcher brandishing a sharp gleaming knife. A calf he was about to slay was standing, awaiting