“‘Take that, with what you got before, and it’ll ase you, maybe.’

“(A party of the O’Hallaghans attack the man who is beating him).

“’Murdher, murdher!’—­(crack, whack, whack, crack, crack, whack).

“’Lay on him, your sowls to pirdition—­lay on him, hot and heavy—­give it to him!  He sthruck me and me down wid my broken arm!’

“’Foul, ye thieves of the world!—­(from the O’Callaghan)—­foul! five against one—­give me fair play!—­(crack, crack, crack)—­Oh!—­(whack) Oh, oh, oh!’—­(falls senseless, covered with blood).

“’Ha, hell’s cure to you, you bloody thief; you didn’t spare me with my arm broke’—­(Another general shout.) ’Bad end to it, isn’t it a poor case entirely, that I can’t even throw up my caubeen, let alone join in the diversion.’

“Both parties now rallied, and ranged themselves along the street, exhibiting a firm phalanx, wedged close against each other, almost foot to foot.  The mass was thick and dense, and the tug of conflict stiff, wild and savage.  Much natural skill and dexterity were displayed in their mutual efforts to preserve their respective ranks unbroken, and as the sallies and charges were made on both sides, the temporary rash, the indentation of the multitudinous body, and the rebound into its original position, gave an undulating appearance to the compact mass—­reeking, dragging, groaning, and buzzing as it was, that resembled the serpentine motion of a rushing water-spout in the clouds.

“The women now began to take part with their brothers and sweethearts.  Those who had no bachelors among the opposite factions, fought along with their brothers; others did not scruple even to assist in giving their enamored swains the father of a good beating.  Many, however, were more faithful to love than to natural affection, and these sallied out, like heroines, under the banners of their sweethearts, fighting with amazing prowess against their friends and relations; nor was it at all extraordinary to see two sisters engaged on opposite sides—­perhaps tearing each other as, with dishevelled hair, they screamed with a fury that was truly exemplary.  Indeed it is no untruth to assert that the women do much valuable execution.  Their manner of fighting is this—­as soon as the fair one decides upon taking a part in the row, she instantly takes off her apron or her stocking, stoops down, and lifting the first four pounder she can get, puts it in the corner of her apron, or the foot of her stocking, if it has a foot, and marching into the scene of action, lays about her right and left.  Upon my credibility, they are extremely useful and handy, and can give mighty nate knockdowns—­inasmuch as no guard that a man is acquainted with can ward off their blows.  Nay, what is more, it often happens, when a son-in-law is in a faction against his father-in-law and his wife’s people generally, that if he and his wife’s brother meet, the wife will clink him with the pet in her apron, downing her own husband with great skill, for it is not always that marriage extinguishes the hatred of factions; and very often ’tis the brother that is humiliated.