Lo! to my ears comes up a solemn strain, and the Eagle shrieks and flies. The thunderbolt withers from my hand : "The Oracles are dumb; Runs through the arched roof with words deceiving; Can no more divine, With hollow shriek the steep of Delphos leaving; No nightly trance, or breathed spell, Inspires the pale-eyed priest in his prophetic cell." A louder thunder has been heard than Jove's. There is a mountain more venerable than Olympus. Moses went up there to talk with God, and came down with the brightness of the sun in his countenance that could not be looked upon, bearing in his hand an eternal law. That thunder still echoes which shook Babylon, and quelled the Assyrian. The Persian rolled away before it like a cloud. The Egyptian, Greek, and Roman, have fled from it for ever. But a greater than Moses has made the mountains holy. A greater hierophant opened up there the law and the prophets. On a mountain Satan confessed his conqueror. Who shall conceive of that tremendous hour, pregnant with the fate of man, when "Jesus went up alone into the mountain to pray!" And we know what deed was done on Calvary. APOLOGUES AND FABLES (Translated for the Irish Penny Journal.) No. V.-THE OLD MAN AND THE YOUTHS. A man of eighty years was planting trees :- You, who already are a great-grandfather! Methuselah? For shame! Do penance rather Out through the vista of a boundless future! THE SNUFF SHOP, FEW, we dare say, ever entered a shop of the description Pursuing the idea just broached, let us enter this horrid den, and for a moment contemplate its interior in a spirit in accordance with that idea; for, not being authors, we have nothing to fear for ourselves, it being that class only that need stand in awe of the snuff shop-to all others it is a harmless place enough. Lo! then, behold (giving us the advantage here of a little stretch of imagination), the walls bespattered with the blood and brains of murdered authors; and see that blood-stained bench which the demon of the place calls a counter; and in various other depositories around lie their dismembered limbs and mangled carcases. Oh, it is a shocking and heart-rendsight! Some of these unfortunates have evidently died hard: they have the appearance of having struggled desperately for life. But, alas, in vain! An irresistible destiny thrust them into the fatal snuff shop, where they perished quickly and miserably by the hand of the ruthless savage within. Others, again, seem to have quietly resigned themselves to their fate, and, indeed, to have been more than half dead before they were brought "They are not even for you," replied the Old Man mildly. in; while others, again, appear to have been wholly defunct, "Youth may be just as nigh Eternity As Age. What though the pitfalls of Existence Be covered o'er with flowers in lieu of snows, Who shall foremeasure the brief distance Between this dim dream's birth and close? Who knows which of us four shall be the one The shade and shelter of this embryo grove. Shine more than once, young men! upon your graves!" One of these youths was buried in the waves- : His bier was dressed with Death's pale plumes ;- M. Learning, it has been said, may be an instrument of fraud: so may bread, if discharged from the mouth of a cannon, be an instrument of death.-Bentham. having died a natural death. These, then, have been conveyed thither merely to be cut up, and converted to the degrading uses of the tobacconist. Although some of the unhappy authors whose mangled remains strew this den of horrors seem to have attained a kind of maturity before they were cruelly torn to pieces as we now see them, by far the greater number are a sort of mur. dered innocents, having been strangled in their birth, or shortly after. A good many there are, too, who seem to have been dead born, or to have perished while yet in embryo. Poor Piteous as it is to look on the heavy, sturdy corpses of the murdered prose writers that lie thickly up and down this chamber of death, yet infinitely more piteous is it to contemplate the delicate, fragile forms of the poets thus cruelly mangled and mutilated that lie no less thickly around us. dear, unfledged things! What a fate has been thine !—what a destiny, to be consigned, ere ye had yet opportunity to open your little musical throats, to the tender mercies of that lite rary Burke-that ruthless monster whom the world, thinking of him only in connection with cigars and pigtail, calls a tobacconist. Where now, sweet little humming birds, be those soft and tender notes with which ye sought, alas, how vainly! to charin the huge, rude ear of an uncouth and barbarous world that would not listen to ye? Alas, they have ceased for ever! How little does that savage, the demon of the place, mind your sweet, small voices, that give forth a piteous wail, like the last notes of the dying swan, every time he lays his merciless hands on you. Little, indeed! Let but a customer come in for half an ounce of " Blackguard," and he will, without the smallest hesitation or compunction, seize one of you, dear unfortunates, and tear you limb from limb for his own and that customer's conveniency: ay, for a paltry three halfpence, mayhap less-a pennyworth of "Scotch"will be per petrate this atrocious deed. That sanguinary bench, that hor. rid counter, is strewn over with your slim carcases and fragile limbs; and your murderer is hanging over your mutilated remains, laughing and chatting and joking with his customers as pleasantly and unconcernedly as if you were so much waste paper. Oh, it is atrocious! Such, then, dear reader, is the light-a terrible one, indeed, but as thou wilt acknowledge, we have no doubt, a correct one-in which we look upon snuff shops, which, as thou well knowest, have long lain, and not unjustly, under the stigma of being fatal to authors. If thou art one, pray, then, eschew it; for if thou dost once enter its dismal portals, thou wilt never, never more be heard of in this world! C. ANIMAL TAMING. SECOND AND CONCLUDING ARTICLE. In my last paper on the taming of animals, I treated the subject generally rather than in detail. It is probable that the curious reader may not be displeased to learn a little more of the mode of keeping and domesticating wild and savage animals, as well as the methods to be adopted in order to bring together fierce animals of different species, and induce them to occupy the same cage in peace and harmony, and without danger of contention. It is, as will be at once recognised, this latter circumstance which renders the exhibitions of Van Amburgh and his rivals as wonderful as they are; it being a far easier matter to reconcile a lion or a tiger to yourself, and even familiarize it to the furthest possible degree, than it is to induce the tiger and the lion to consort together, and refrain from engaging in deadly conflict. Let us suppose, for the sake of illustration of the mode which should be adopted to tame two or more animals, that you are made a present of a lion and a tiger. If the animals be very young, you will have very little trouble with them for a long time-none, indeed, beyond the necessity of attending to their health, for the larger felines are difficult to be reared; but as they grow older, they will be very apt to quarrel between themselves; wounds will be given and received, and the death or maiming of either, or perhaps of both, will pretty speedily result. To guard against any unpleasantness of this nature, it should be your business the instant you receive the animals to commence operations. Let them be kept at first far apart; for it is not advisable, as their dispositions may be very different, that one should be witness of the severity you may be compelled to exercise towards the other. This done, take, according to the animals' ages, a stout cane, a supplejack, or an iron rod. If the creatures be very young, that is, under three months, or perhaps four, the cane will be sufficient. If greater, or from that to half grown, you will require the supplejack, and let it be thicker at one end than at the other. For a half-grown animal the iron rod will be absolutely necessary, and it must be of sufficient weight that a blow of it on the skull may be sufficient to produce a temporary insensibility-the only chance you will have of escape, should the fierce brutes at any time take it into their heads to rebel. Having thus provided yourself with arms offensive, you must be equally cautious as to your costume. That must be of strong material, hard, and fitting close. You must have no loose flapping skirts, no open jackets. All must be tight, and buttoned closely to the body. An under-waistcoat (sleeved) of strong buff, with a stout pea-jacket over it, leather or corduroy breeches, and top boots, is about the best dress for the experimentalist in animal taming that I can suggest at this moment. The reason for I like to give a reason for everything I recommend-of this necessity for a firm, tightfitting dress, is, that if a wild animal, although to all appearance perfectly domesticated, chances even in play to get his claws fastened in your clothes, the sensation of seizing upon prey involuntarily presents itself to his imagination. The accidental entanglement is succeeded by a plunge of the claws, the jaws are brought into requisition, and your life is by no means in a safe position. Hence the necessity for tight dress. Thus accoutred, with your rod in your hand, and, if the animal be more than half grown, a brace of pistols in your breast-the one loaded with ball, the other with powder, upon which a quantity of tow has been crammed down-approach the cage of the young animal which you design to tame. I commence with this stage of the process, because I presume that you have already rendered your protegé sufficiently familiar by feeding and caressing it through the bars, and by spending some time each day in its company. I presume therefore that it has already begun to recognise your appearance, and to come over to your hand when called, as well as to permit you to stroke and pat it, without attempting to bite you. Approach the cage, hold in your left hand a heavy cloak or blanket wrapped round your hand and arm; let there be two assistants near at hand, and a small stove in which half a dozen iron rods are heating; let the door of the cage be a real door, opening upon hinges, and shutting with a good and deeply-notched latch-not a sliding door, as such a mode of entering the cage might be as much as your life was worth. Speak kindly to the animal, and caress it through the bars of its cage ere you enter, or the suddenness of your entrance may irritate or alarm it, and thus induce it to attack you. Your costume should likewise by no means have been put on for the first time. You should have dressed in a similar manner during all your former visits, so that your intended pet might be acquainted with your appearance. Let a platform be erected outside the cage, to its level, and ascend this, where stand a few minutes, boldly caressing and speaking to the animal. Then throw open the door, enter with a firm and resolute step, push the door behind you, but see that you do not for an instant remove your eyes from those of the animal you are visiting. Do not advance from the door; stand near the bars of the cage, that you may have a better chance of escape, and may be more readily assisted by your attendants in the event of an attack. Speak kindly towards the animal, and if it, as it most likely will, comes over to you, fear nothing, but stretch forth your hand and caress it. The creature will then probably purr, and rub against you. Permit it to do so, and encourage it in its familiarity; but if it offer to play with you, repress such disposition with firmness; and if you perceive that the animal is bent on frolic, leave the cage at once, for it is unsafe longer to remain, the play of these savage creatures always leading to mischief, just as the cat sports with the captured mouse ere she gives it the finishing blow, and buries it in her maw. Repress, therefore, every attempt to play. Use your rod freely and severely. Do so not merely for a grievous fault, but for the most distant appearance of insubordination. Let your corrections be terrible when you do inflict them, and you will have to repeat them so much the less frequently. Some, and Van Amburgh I believe among the rest, are in favour of beating the animals every morning, whether they deserve such chastisement or not, just by way of keeping up a salutary awe of their masters. I object to this, as I conceive it to be both cruel and unnecessary. If animals are of an unruly disposition, and require frequent correction, I should rather recommend that they should be visited every morning, and an opportunity of misbehaving themselves thus afforded, when indeed a good thrashing might be administered with much greater justice. Never display either timidity or ill-humour. The former will make the animals despise your menaces, and perhaps give you a bite or a claw-the latter will cause them to hate you, to regard you as a tyrant, and probably seize on the first favourable opportunity for your destruction. Be just, therefore, in your punishments, and do not be too familiar. Never for an instant permit any animal to make too free with you. Recollect the old copybook adage, "Familiarity breeds contempt;" and recollect that if a young lion or a tiger so far forgets himself as to despise your authority, you will stand a fair chance of being torn to pieces some fine morning, and de. voured for their breakfast. I conceive that the preceding rapidly sketched hints will serve as a sufficient ground-work for the animal-tamer to act upon. He must not be discouraged if he do not succeed at first, and he must be satisfied to take time, and persevere. Without this he need not hope for success. The animal-tamer must be fearless-such a thing as terror must be a feeling wholly foreign to his soul. He must be as brave as a lion: for how can he otherwise hope to subdue the bravest of the animal creation? I have said "bravest," and so let the word stand; but I was perhaps led to employ the expression rather from popular prejudice, than from a conviction of its truth. The feline tribes are very powerful and very fierce animals, but they are by no means brave. A bulldog has more courage in his pigmy body, than exists in the prodigious carcasses of a dozen lions or tigers. Let the animal-tamer recollect this, and the knowledge of this fact will probably encourage him. To give a case in point:-I was once endeavouring to make friends with the tigress in the Zoological Gardens, Phoenix Park-a beautiful animal, subsequently purchased from the Zoological Society by the proprietors of the Portobello Gardens, and since unfortunately dead. I had got so far as to be able to stroke the creature on the head and back, and even to open her mouth with my hand, and leave it within her terrible jaws. This I did on my third visit to her, in presence of the animal's keeper. One day I was alone with the tigress, and my hand was upon her neck: she with equal good nature had placed her enormous paw upon my shoulder, and was purring in a most affectionate manner, when a sudden noise from one of the other animals caused me to start; instantly the paw was brought down upon my arm with some violence, and before I could extricate my hand, Kate, as the tigress was called, had closed her teeth upon the limb, which she held firmly, though as yet uninjured. I strove to withdraw my hand, but to no purpose. I felt in a most uncomfortable position, reader, for I feared that I should lose a very useful member of my frame: it was my right hand. Had I lost it, I should have been unable to have written this or any of the other papers I have given you. The teeth of the tigress became more and more firmly closed, and my efforts to disengage my hand were unavailing; I called for assistance, but no one was within hearing; when, calling courage and resolution to my aid, I bethought me of my own principles, and, raising my other hand, dealt Kate as severe a blow as I was able with my clenched fist upon her nose. The experiment was successful. The animal, at once releasing my hand, sprang with an angry howl to the opposite side of her cage, from which in a few moments she returned cowering and submissive, apparently eager to regain that portion of my good opinion that she seemed conscious of having forfeited. If, then, you are attacked, act with promptness and decision. Use your rod freely; but if you find yourself in danger, employ your pistol, not, however, that loaded with ball (reserve it as a last resource, when there is nought else between you and death), but that loaded only with powder and tow; fire it into the animal's face, and I think there is no doubt but it will afford you ample time for escape; nay, it may in all likelihood render you conqueror; and if you perceive that the shock has terrified your assailant, hand the pistol to be re-loaded by an assistant, while you advance and finish with your rod what the pistol began. If you be seized and overpowered, let your attendants use the heated irons; they should be of a sufficient length to reach to any part of the cage, and should be applied to the nose and mouth. They will generally be found successful in turning the current of affairs. Ere taking leave of my readers, I must say a few words as to introducing animals of different species to each other. A very brief notice, comprised under one or two heads, will suffice. First, let each animal be perfectly and individually under your control. Secondly, do not put the strangers into the same cage all at once, but put them into a cage partitioned by an iron railing, in which leave them for a few weeks, until you begin to perceive that they have made each other's acquaintance, and may be trusted together; and do you enter the cage with them when first brought together, and visit the least symptom of hostility with instant and effective chastisement. They should not at first be left together entirely, but only for an hour or two each day while it is convenient to you to attend. By and bye, when they become sufficiently familiarized, you need be under no apprehension. When two animals have been brought together, it will be comparatively easy and safe to introduce a third, then a fourth, and so on; the safety increasing in proportion to their numbers. Make it also your business to select your animals with judgment. To an old leopard introduce a young lion, for instance, because the leopard will, in consequence of the youth of his new acquaintance, crow over him, and aid you in subduing him. This advantage, to be gained by observing dissimilarity of ages, is by no means to be overlooked, as it is a powerful agent in the work of domestication and association of the different species of animals. When one animal is of a timid kind-the natural prey probably of the other, which latter is fierce and powerful-you have nothing to do but to make the more powerful animal afraid of its timid and defenceless companion. This may be done in various modes, just as the time or opportunities may suggest. A simple illustration may serve. Take a young cat and put Take a rat's or a mouse's skin, and fill it with hot scalding bran; throw it to the cat, and when she runs at it, take hold of her and thrust the hot skin into her mouth; keep it there for a minute till she is well burned, and you have rendered that cat ever afterwards harmless towards mice, at least towards such as you may introduce to her; a wild one which she met with at large might fare differently, her into a cage. though I hardly think she would even attempt to injure it. Let not the reader who may endeavour to put the above This short sketch has, I trust, given my readers an insight into the mode by which Van Amburgh and his rivals perform their wonders; and I can assure them, that by following the principles I have here laid down, they may themselves, if they choose, equal in their own private menageries the perform ances of those public exhibitors. H. D. R. PHILOSOPHY.-Philosophy can add to our happiness in no other manner but by diminishing our misery: it should not pretend to increase our present stock, but make us economists of what we are possessed of. The great source of calamity lies in regret or anticipation; he therefore is most wise who thinks of the present alone, regardless of the past or future. This is impossible to a man of pleasure; it is difficult to the man of business, and is in some degree attainable by the philosopher. Happy were we all born philosophers-all born with a talent of thus dissipating our own cares by spreading them upon all mankind.-Goldsmith. men-by being either agreeable or useful. Artificial modesty disparages a woman's real virtue as much The worthiest people are the most injured by slander; as we usually find that to be the best fruit which the birds have been pecking at.-Swift. A miser grows rich by seeming poor, an extravagant man grows poor by seeming rich.-Shenstone. dead, than between a wise man and a blockhead.-Aristotle. There is not greater difference between the living and the A man who has good judgment has the same advantage over men of any other qualifications whatsoever, as one that can see would have over a blind man of ten times the strength. Steele. Printed and published every Saturday by GUNN and CAMERON, at the Office THE village of Ballycomaisy was as pleasant a little place as one might wish to see of a summer's day. To be sure, like all other Irish villages, it was remarkable for a superfluity of "pigs, praties, and childre," which being the stock in trade of an Irish cabin, it is to be presumed that very few villages either in Ireland or elsewhere could go on properly without them. It consisted principally of one long street, which you entered from the north-west side by one of those old-fashioned bridges, the arches of which were much more akin to the Gothic than the Roman. Most of the houses were of mud, a few of stone, one or two of which had the honour of being slated on the front side of the roof, and rustically thatched on the back, where ostentation was not necessary. There were two or three shops, a liberal sprinkling of publichouses, a chapel a little out of the town, and an old dilapida A crazy ted market-house near the centre. A few little bye-streets projected in a lateral direction from the main one, which was terminated on the side opposite to the north-west by a pound, through which, as usual, ran a shallow stream, that was gathered into a little gutter as it crossed the road. antiquated mill, all covered and cobwebbed with grey mealy dust, stood about a couple of hundred yards out of the town, to which two straggling rows of houses, that looked like an abortive street, led you. This mill was surrounded by a green common, which was again hemmed in by a fine river, that ran round in a curving line from under the hunchbacked arch of the bridge we mentioned at the beginning. Now, a little behind, or rather above this mill, on the skirt of the aforesaid common, stood a rather neat-looking whitish cabin, with about half a rood of garden behind it. It was but small, and consisted merely of a sleeping-room and kitchen. On one side of the door there was a window, opening on hinges; and on the outside, to the right as you entered the house, there was placed a large stone, about four feet high, backed by a sloping mound of earth, so graduated as to allow a person to ascend the stone without any difficulty. In this cabin lived Rose Moan, the Midwife; and we need scarcely inform our readers that the stone in question was her mounting-stone, by which she was enabled to place herself on pillion or crupper, as the case happened, when called out upon her usual avocation. Rose was what might be called a flahoolagh, or portly woman, with a good-humoured set of Milesian features; that is to say, a pair of red, broad cheeks, a well-set nose, allowing for the disposition to turn up, and two black twinkling eyes, with a mellow expression that betokened good nature, and a peculiar description of knowing professional humour that is never to be met with in any but a Midwife. Rose was dressed in a red flannel petticoat, a warm cotton sack or wrapper, which pinned easily over a large bust, and a comfortable woollen shawl. She always wore a long-bordered morning cap, over which, while travelling, she pinned a second shawl of Scotch plaid; and to protect her from the cold night air, she enfolded her precious person in a deep blue cloak of the true indigo tint. On her head, over cloak and shawl and morning cap, was fixed a black "splush hat," with the leaf strapped down by her ears on each side, so that in point of fact she cared little how it blew, and never once dreamed that such a process as that of Raper or Mackintosh was necessary to keep the liege subjects of these realms warm and waterproof, nor that two systems should exist in Ireland so strongly antithetical to each other as those of Raper and Father Mathew. Having thus given a brief sketch of her local habitation and personal appearance, we shall transfer our readers to the house of a young new-married farmer named Keho, who lived in a distant part of the parish. Keho was a comfortable fellow, full of good nature and credulity; but his wife happened to be one of the sharpest, meanest, most suspicious, and miserable devils that ever was raised in good-humoured Ireland. Her voice was as sharp and her heart as cold as an icicle; and as for her tongue, it was incessant and interminable. Were it not that her husband, who, though good-natured, was fiery and resolute when provoked, exercised a firm and salutary control over her, she would have starved both him and her servants into perfect skeletons. And what was still worse, with a temper that was vindietive and tyrannical, she affected to be religious, and upon those who did not know her, actually attempted to pass herself off as a saint. One night, about ten or twelve months after his marriage, honest Corny Keho came out to the barn, where slept his two farm servants, named Phil Hannigan and Barny Casey. He had been sitting by himself, composing his mind for a calm night's sleep, or probably for a curtain lecture, by taking a contemplative whiff of the pipe, when the servant wench, with a certain air of hurry, importance, and authority, entered the kitchen, and informed him that Rose Moan must immediately be sent for. "The misthress isn't well, Masther, an' the sooner she's sint for, the betther. So mind my words, sir, if you plaise, an' pack aff either Phil or Barny for Rose Moan, an' I hope I won't have to ax it again-hem!" return with us to the cabin of Rose Moan, who is now fast asleep; for it is twelve o'clock of a beautiful moonlight night. in the pleasant month of August. Tap-tap. "Is Mrs Moan at home?" In about half a minute her warm good-looking face, enveloped in flannel, is protruded from the window. "Who's that, in God's name?" The words in italics were added, lest the message might be one from the fairies. "I'm Dandy Keho's servant-one of them, at any ratean' my Misthress has got a stitch in her side-ha! ha! ha!” Aisy, avick-so, she's down, thin-aisy-I'll be wid you like a bow out of an arrow. Put your horse over to the stone,' an' have him ready. The Lord bring her over her difficulties, any way, amin!" 66 She then pulled in her head, and in about three or four minutes sallied out, dressed as we have described her; and having placed herself on the crupper, coolly put her right arm round Phil's body, and desired him to ride on with all possible haste. "Push an, avouchal. push an-time's precious at all times, but on business like this every minute is worth a life. But there's always one comfort, that God is marciful. forrid, avick." Push "Never fear, Mrs Moan. If it's in Hollowback, bedad I'm the babe that 'll take it out of him. Come, ould Hackball, trot out-you don't know the message you're an, nor who you're carryin'." "Isn't your misthress-manin' the Dandy's wife-a daughther of ould Fitzy Finnegan's, the sehrew of Glendhu ?" "Faith, you may say that, Rose, as we all know to our eost. Be me song, she does have us sometimes that you might see through us; an' only for the masther-but, dang it, no matther-she's down now, poor woman, an' it's not just the time to be rakin' up her failins." "It is not, an' God mark you to grace for sayin' so. At a time like this we must forget every thing, only to do the best we can for our fellow-creatures. What are you lookin' at, avick?" Now, this question naturally arose from the fact that honest Phil had been, during their short conversation, peering keenly on each side of him, as if he expected an apparition to rise from every furze-bush on the common. The truth is, he was almost proverbial for his terror of ghosts and fairies, and all supernatural visitants whatever; but upon this occasion his fears arose to a painful height, in consequence of the popular belief, that, when a midwife is sent for, the Good People throw every possible obstruction in her way, either by laming the horse, if she rides, or by disqualifying the guide from performing his duty as such. Phil, however, felt ashamed to avow his fears on these points, but still could not help unconsciously turning the conversation to the very topic he ought to have avoided. "What war you looking at, avick?" Why, bedad, there appeared something there beyant, like a man, only it was darker. But be this and be thathem, ehem!-if I could get my hands on him, whatsomever he" "Hushth, boy, hould your tongue: you don't know but it's the very word you war goin' to say might do us harm." Whatsomever he is, that I'd give him a lift on Hollowback if he happened to be any poor fellow that stood in need of it. Oh! the sorra word I was goin' to say against any thing or any body." "You're right, dear. If you knew as much as I could tell Dandy Keho-for so Corny was called, as being remark-you-push an-you'd have a dhrop o' sweat at the ind of able for his slovenliness started up hastily, and having every hair on your head.” taken the pipe out of his mouth, was about to place it on the hob; but reflecting that the whiff could not much retard him in the delivery of his orders, he sallied out to the barn, and knocked. Who's there? Lave that, wid you, unless you wish to be shotted." This was followed by a loud laugh from within. "Boys, get up wid all haste: it's the misthress. Phil, saddle Hollowback and fly-(puff)—fly in a jiffy for Rose Moan; an' do you, Barny, clap a back-sugaun — (puff) an Sobersides, an' be aff for the Misthress's mother (puff.)' Both were dressing themselves before he had concluded, and in a very few minutes were off in different directions, each according to the orders he had received. With Barny we have nothing to do, unless to say that he lost little time in bringing Mrs Keho's mother to her aid; but as Phil is gone for a much more important character, we beg our readers to "Be my song, I'm tould you know a power o' quare things, Mrs Moan; an' if all that's said is thrue, you sartinly do.' Now, had Mrs Moan and her heroic guide passed through the village of Ballycomaisy, the latter would not have felt his fears so strong upon him. The road, however, along which they were now going was a grass-grown bohreen, that led them from behind her cabin through a waste and lonely part of the country; and as it was a saving of better than two miles in point of distance, Mrs Moan would not hear of their proceeding by any other direction. The tenor of her conversation, however, was fast bringing Phil to the state she so graphically and pithily described. "What's your name?" she asked. "Phil Hannigan, a son of fat Phil's of Balnasaggart, an' a cousin to Paddy who lost a finger in the Gansy (Guernsey) wars." "I know. Well, Phil, in throth the hairs 'ud stand like |