During the Viceregency of LORD HARCOURT, in Ireland, Sir John Blacquiere, who was his Secretary, had an amazing large Newfoundland dog, who followed him when he walked out, and attended him if he rode — to all places but those where he went on business.
It so happened, however, that through the carelessness of the servant, this great animal got the slip of his keeper, on a day when there was a very important debate in the House of Commons, on the State of the Nation.
The dog, for these creatures are very sagacious, suspecting where its master was, trotted down to the College Green, and being known to every door Keeper and Messenger about the House, he was admitted at the heels of the first Member to whom the door was opened after his arrival.
At the moment when he entered, Mr Flood was on his legs declaiming with his usual violence against Administration — Lord North — Poyning's Law — and the expenses of a standing army.
Mr Flood, in his mode of delivery, had a peculiar mode of bending his body forward into a kind of semicircle, almost as ungraceful as the attitude of Grattan — The dog imagining from his position, that the Orator was on all fours, went up to him, and lifting up his dexter hind leg, actually besprinkled the Hon. Gentleman on his arm, to the confusion of the whole Opposition bench.
A scene, which beggars description, ensued — Mr. Flood was so intent on Poyning, that he did not perceive the dog, and the animal was so quick in his motion, that Sir John had not time to prevent what happened. An apology, however, was made by the Secretary — the Door Keeper reprimanded — and the dog interdicted from ever appearing in Parliament again.