Burke Manuscript

Burke Manuscript: Page 279

Transcript

his utmost by advice and persuasion with Bob but it was useless. Though both Halls, they were not connected. Bob was a Scotchman, while Sir John is York. But they were shipmates from Home in the early days. The poor fellow was once wandering for a fortnight naked as an infant, in Alford Forest when in a fit of D.T., and was a miserable object when found. Bob could make things lively at times. Smashing up every chair in the room and breaking every lamp in the house even in these days would pass muster. In that respect very like our own Charley Cooper, now at rest. Charley always was a character. As a tooth drawer the darling of the ladies. Well he was a handsome fellow, as well as a fine dentist. Many little stories could be told about his exploits. Take Joey Brittan for a subject. He was once R.M. Police Magistrate, and we all know that Charley in the course of business often attended the leves. On this particular occasion he had exceeded himself, smashing hotel crockery and mirrors, and was under bail to attend on Monday morning. Some friend reminded him that on the last occasion Joey had distinctly told him that on his next appearance before him he would “go over the Hill”. “Ah!”, laughed Charley with a roar, “I’ve done the old boy this time. I’ve got his teeth! I’ll take care he won’t be there!” Joey, on the Bench when executing Justice and maintaining truth, had a most sardonic grin, and he grinned with a splendid set of false teeth. Charley scored. Some good old accommodating friend, John or somebody of course, quite ignored Joey’s threat. Charley also exhibited, in company with a couple of pious chums, for assault on a once well known damosel, connected with an individual who made his exit in haste, after making cinders not only of his friend’s house in the Market Place near the Victoria Hotel, but also of his friend. The trio were members of an elite corps of volunteers, and profitting [sic] in the Tutorship of that venerable old fossil Morgan, they brought their bayonets to the charge, and made the lady in her chemise, in the small hours of the morning, by gentle prodding on the fleshiest part, dance around for their amusement. Didn’t the lady employ Mr Wynn Williams to prosecute? One fancies so. By the way, this happened in a once well known ivy fronted cottage in Kilmore Street. And talking about that Street do people know that that locality was once a fearful fever hole? In the times before Colombo Street bridge was built, and long before the Garrick and Albion were thought of, when people had to go round the Victoria bridge, the old one, and paddle along over planks, crossing creeks and swamps in Kilmore Street and Colombo, then Kilmore Street was infested with fever.

[Note that in the original, pages 1 and 3 are on one page, and 2 and 4, on another. In this transcription they have been re-placed in correct order]