An Irish midshipman present, a Mr. O'Gallagher,
pointing to Mr. Henry, asked me, "Who is that, Poll?" "Good for
nothing," I replied; and Mr. Henry flew at me in a rage, swore I had
been taught to insult him, and that he would wring my neck off. This he
would have done but for the protection of the chaplain, to whose breast
I flew, and who carried me away to his own room. In a few days I was
consigned to Mr. O'Gallagher, the midshipman, as a present to the
chaplain's patroness, a lady of high rank and celebrated sanctity in
Ireland, near to whose Propaganda the family of O'Gallagher resided. I
was the bearer of a letter of introduction, in which my pious education
and saintly acquirements were set forth, my knowledge of the Creed
exposed, and myself recommended as a means of aiding her ladyship's
proselyting vocation, as animals of less intelligence had done before.
I embarked therefore on board the British frigate--an honour which
had been refused my old master, and was treated with great care and
attention during the voyage. On arriving in a British port, my young
protector got leave of absence, and took a passage in a vessel bound
for Dublin. On the morning of our coming to anchor, my cage was put on
shore on the quay, while O'Gallagher returned to look after his luggage.
Thus left to myself, I soon attracted the attention of a wretched,
squalid-looking animal, something between a scare-crow and a long-armed
gibbon.
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