I have a new project I am working on. I am transcribing my great grandfather’s book about our family’s flight from british rule in occupied Ireland.

Some thought the agent was doing this with the knowledge or permission of the land lord. Mathew Martin, my grandfather, was one who thought that way. When refused his lease for the usual reason, he went to the land lord and was told he would be given–a ninety-nine years lease, to him and his heirs rent free–if he would promise to have his children brought up in the English Church.

I have heard them say that Grandfather told the man he might go where he could light his pipe with the end of his finger. But I suspect he was wise enough not to say that until he was where neither landlord nor agent could hear him. Such Language would have caused his arrest and imprisonment. Whether he said it or not does not matter. What he did was to hurry home and take himself out of his holding (little farm) before the bailiff had a chance to evict him.

This was in 1843, and Mathew Martin, with his wife and three children - Joseph, Hannah and Edmund, bade goodby to Ireland and took the long road to America.

Folks were way more creative with their insults back then.