-- The Cork Examiner, 8 May 1844

MALLOW LAW!

On Saturday evening one of the Aristocracy of Mallow, K----r B-----r,
Esq., was riding through the turnpike gate at Ballydaheen, kept by an
honest and industrious man, named John Carver, who demanded the toll,
three half pence, but he was told to "go be damned"; upon which he seized
the bridle, when Mr. B-----, jumped of the horse, and struck the poor man
with his whip, tore his shirt, and gave him a few aristocratic tips on the
chest.  Carver immediately went and paid the summons-server for a summons,
and on yesterday this officer of our Petty Sessions Court told Carver that
Mr. Henry Hume, the Clerk of the Petty Sessions' would not give a summons!!! 
This same Mr. B. about ten months ago, had an idiot, named Sheahane, sent
to the treadmill for standing on his lawn.


[a Kilner Brazier, Esq. is listed at Ballyellis, Mallow, in Jackson's
1842-3 Postal Directory for County Cork]

-- The Cork Examiner  13 May 1844

THE TALE OF A BUTTON

Some on said "What's in a name?" -- and well might we say "what's in a
button?"  Whosoever desires an answer to this query, we bid him make
instant application to the Captain of the Malabar; for with that gallant
officer lies the solution of the difficulty.  It seems that the tarry
jackets of the Empire, who never quailed before a living foe, are scared
at the sight of a Repeal Button!  This fearful emblem of Irish nationality
communitcates its property to him who wears it.  How is that? our readers
ask.  We shall soon tell them.  Well, yesterday was a fine day, a lovely
day, and earth and water rejoiced in its beauty.  It being so fine a day,
thousands of our Cits were attracted to Cove and its harbour, and to her
Majesty's ships lying therein.  The malabar was the grand object of
attraction; and the crowd should inspect her.  No harm in that.  But a
solemn excommunication had been hurled from the thrice loyal deck of the
Malabar against all Repeal Buttons.  Accordingly, there stood, in all the
pomp and circumstance of full dress, an epauleted officer, with telescope
in hand, ranging the horizon and sweeping the decks of the river steamers,
that notice might be given of the approach of the formidable opponent. 

Well, group after group mounted the gangway of the great ship, and still
the telescope was on active duty, keeping a sharp look out.  At last, came
a young gentleman guarded by two female angels, one on each arm -- but
alas! the male wore the button!  Now was the time for the vigilant
officer, who called out with the voice of a conch-shell -- "SCANNELL,
don't admit that man, unless he removes his badge."  Accordingly, Scannel
looked grim as Cerberus, and frowned back the button.  What could the
wearer of the badge do?  The ladies wished to see the fine big guns, and
the "ducks" of little Midshipmen; but Scannell, the warrant officer, said
it was "no go," unless the male unshipped the button.  At last, weakness
most pitiable! the brace of curious Eves prevailed, and into the waistcoat
pocket the button was popped.  Entrance was given; and thus we prove that
the button alone was the object of horror -- not the man.

Another came, and still another!  Distraction!  Here was a fuming and a
boiling over of insulted loyalty.  But the officer had soon to deal with
sterner stuff than flounces and furbelows.  Two honest button-bedecked
fellows presented themselves.  They were soon told the alternative; and
the answer given was, "that they would sooner be blown up than take it
out" -- and back they voluntarily went.  However, in spite of all
precautions, these hateful bits of brass were afterwards seen flashing
'tween decks, and even on the "main;" for if some curious Repealer did
compromise for the moment, he reconciled it to his conscience by mounting
the emblem as soon as he passed the barrier.  We have heard, as a positive
fact, that one of the lower guns got a fit at the near approach of the
emblem.  This is mysterious.