ABSTRACT
The difficulty of selecting from the vulgar herd of Irish bulls one that shall be entitled to the prize, from the united merits of pre-eminent absurdity, and indisputable originality, is greater than hasty judges may imagine. Many bulls, reputed to be bred and born in Ireland, are of foreign extraction; and many more, supposed to be unrivalled in their kind, may be matched in all their capital points: for instance, there is not a more celebrated bull than Paddy Blake’s. When Paddy heard an English gentleman speaking of the fine echo at the lake of Killarney, which repeats the sound forty times, he very promptly observed, ‘Faith, that’s nothing at all to the echo in my father’s garden, in the county of Galway: if you say to it, “How do you do, Paddy Blake?” it will answer, “Pretty well, I thank you, sir.”’ 9
