Charles O'Malley, The Irish Dragoon, Volume 2

Here O'Shaughnessy sighed deeply, and even seemed affected by the souvenir. Come, Dan, we did it all for the best. Oh, O'Mealey, he was a cunning fellow; but no matter. We went to the ball, and to be sure, it was a great sight. Two hundred and fifty souls, where there was not good room for the odd fifty; such laughing, such squeezing, such pressing of hands and waists in the staircase, and then such a row and riot at the top, – four fiddles, a key bugle, and a bagpipe, playing 'Haste to the wedding,' amidst the crash of refreshment-trays, the tramp of feet, and the sounds of merriment on all sides! It's only in Ireland, after all, people have fun. Old and young, merry and morose, the gay and cross-grained, are crammed into a lively country-dance; and ill-matched, ill-suited, go jigging away together to the blast of a bad band, till their heads, half turned by the noise, the heat, the novelty, and the hubbub, they all get as tipsy as if they were really deep in liquor. "Then there is that particularly free-and-easy tone in every one about