were, however, at length conquered, but not removed, by the victorious arms of Brian Boru, and afterwards Limerick appears in history only as an Irish city, though its inhabitants were chiefly of Danish descent. It was here that Turlogh O'Brien, king of Munster, received in 1064 the homage of Donlevy, king of Ulidia; and his son and successor, Murtogh O'Brien, having given Cashel, the ancient metropolis of Munster, to the church, made Limerick his chief residence and the capital of the province, from which time it continued to be the seat of the kings of Thomond or North Munster, who were hence called kings of Limerick until its final conquest by the English in the commencement of the thirteenth century. But though thus relieved from the terrors of foreign aggression, Limerick was not secured from the equally sanguinary attacks of the Irish themselves; and our annalists record the burning of the city by Dermod Mac Murrogh in 1014, the very year after the death of Brian, and again in 1088 by Donnell Mac Loughlin, king of Aileach, or the Northern Hy Niall. It was besieged in 1157 by Murtogh, the son of Niall Mac Loughlin, at the head of the forces of the North and of Leinster, when the Danish inhabitants were forced to renounce the authority of Turlogh O'Brien, and to banish him east of the Shannon; and though he was soon after restored to a moiety of his principality, he was obliged in 1160 to give hostages to Roderic O'Conor, to escape his vengeance. Thus weakened and harassed by the intestine divisions which so fearfully increased in Ireland after the successful and splendid usurpation of the supreme monarchy by their ancestor Brian Boru, it should not be wondered at if the kings of Limerick had made but a feeble resistance to the enthusiastic and disciplined bravery of the Anglo-Norman adventurers, or that their city should have been easily won and as easily kept by these bold warriors; and yet it was not till after many towns of greater importance, if not strength, had been taken by them and securely held, that Limerick ceased to acknowledge its ancient lords as masters. Its king, Donnell O'Brien, was indeed one of the first of the Irish princes, who, forsaking the Irish monarch after the arrival of Strongbow, leagued himself with the English in support of Mac Murrogh, whose daughter, the half sister of the Earl's wife, he had married; and as a reward for his defection, the king of Limerick claimed the assistance of Strongbow in attacking the king of Ossory. The result of this request is so honourable to the character of one of the Norman chiefs, and is so graphically sketched by Maurice Regan, the king of Leinster's secretary, that we are tempted to relate it in his own words, as translated by Sir George Carew. "The Erle was no sooner come to the city (Waterford) but a messenger from O'Brien, kyng of Limerick, repaired unto him from his master, praying hym with all his forces to march into Ossery against Donald, that common enemie. The cause of friendship between the Erle and O'Brien was, that O'Brien had married one of the daughters of Dermond, kyng of Leinster, and half sister to the Erle's wife. Unto the message the Erle made answeare, that he would satisfie O'Brien's request, and they met at Ydough, and being joined, their forces were two thousand strong. Donald, fearinge the approach of his enemies, sent to the Erle to desire hym that he mought have a safe guard to come unto him, and then he doubted not but to gyve hym satisfaction. The request was graunted, and Maurice de Prindergast was sent for hym; but he, for the more securitie, obtained the words of the Erle and O'Brien, and the othes of all the chieftains of the army, that the kyng of Ossery shuld come and return in safetie; which done, he went to Donald, and within fewe hours he brought hym to the campe in the presence of all the army. The Erle and O'Brien chardged him with divers treasons and practices which he had attempted against his lord the kyng of Leinster, deceased; and O'Brien, and all the captens, disallowinge of his excuses, councelled the Erle to hang him, and O'Brien, without delay, commanded his men to harrasse and spoile Donald's countrie, which willingly they performed. Maurice de Prindergast misliking these proceedings, and seeinge the danger the king of Ossery was in, presently mounted on his horse, commaunded his companie to do the like, and said, My lords, what do you mean to do?' and turning to the captens, he tould them that they dishonoured themselves, and that they had falsified their faitths unto hym,' and sware by the cross of his sword that no man there that day shoulde dare lay handes on the kyng of Ossery; whereupon the Erle having sense of his honour, calling to mynde how far it was ingaged, delivered Donald unto Maurice, commaunding him to see him safely conveyed unto his men. Upon the way in their retorn they encountered O'Brien's men, laden with the spoiles of Ossery. Prindergast chardged them, slaying nine or ten of those free booters; and having brought Donald to his men, lodged with him that night in the woods, and the next morning returned to the Erle." For the part which Donnell O'Brien thus acted, he had to defend himself from the merited vengeance of the Irish monarch; and though he was for a time able to ward it off by the assistance of Robert Fitzstephen, he deemed it prudent, on the death of Mac Murrogh in 1171, to return to his allegiance to Roderic, and give him hostages for his fidelity. On the arrival of King Henry II. in Ireland, however, in 1172, he again submitted to the authority of the English monarch, to whom he came upon the banks of the river near Cashel, swore fealty, and became tributary. But these oaths were not long held sacred by Donnell. The return of the king to England was soon followed by a general outburst of the Irish princes against the unjust encroachments of the adventurers, and Donnell O'Brien, once more taking possession of Limerick, led his troops, which were strengthened by the battalions of West Connaught, into the strongholds of the English in Kilkenny, who hastily retreated before them into Waterford, and left the country a prey to their devastations. To punish these daring aggressions of Donnell, Earl Strongbow, in the following year, as stated in the Annals of Inisfallen, collecting a large body of the English from the various parts of Ireland, marched into the heart of O'Brien's territory, where he was met and encountered by him at Thurles, and defeated with a loss of four knights and seven hundred men. Strongbow, returning to Waterford, found the gates closed against him; the people, hearing of his defeat, having seized on the garrison in his absence, and put them to the sword. After a month's sojourn on the little island, as it is called, in the mouth of the river at Waterford, Strongbow returned to Dublin, and summoning a council of the chiefs, it was determined to carry on the war with the king of Limerick with the greatest vigour. The success which they experienced might, however, have been of a different kind, if they had not been joined on this occasion by the king of Ossory, who had been already so grievously treated by O'Brien, and who was naturally rejoiced at the opportunity thus afforded him of wreaking his revenge upon his old enemy. "With the good likeinge," says Maurice Regan, "of all the chieftains, Reymond le Grosse, the Constable of Leinster, whoe was a man discreete and valiaunt, and by his parents of good livelyhood, was designed to be general of the army: their randevouse for the assembling of their troops was Ossory. The kyng of Ossory joined with them, and undertook to guide the army upon O'Brien. Nevertheless, Reymond mistrusted his faith, whyche the kyng of Ossory perceaving, protested his integritie with suche fervency, as it gave full satisfaction, that he would be faithfull unto him; which Donald performid with sinceritie, in guiding the army until it came to the cittie of Limericke, whyche was invironed with a foule and deepe ditch with running water, not to be passed over without boats, but at one foord onely. At the first approach the soldiers were discouraged, and mutinied to return, supposing the cittie, by reason of the water, was impregnable. But that valiaunt knight, Meyler Fitz Henry, having found the foord, wyth a loud voice cried, 'St David, companions, let us courageouslie pass this foord.' He led the waye, and was followed but by four horsemen, who, when they were gotten over, were assailed by the enemie." The account given by Cambrensis of this affair, as translated by Sir R. C. Hoare, is somewhat different in its details. He says that "upon this occasion, one David Walsh clapped spurs to his horse, and, plunging boldly into the stream, reached the opposite shore in safety, and exclaimed loudly that he had found a ford,' yet never a man would follow him, save one Geoffrey Judas, who, on his return with David to conduct the army across the river, was carried away by the impetuosity of the current, and unfortunately drowned. Meyler, however, undismayed by this accident, and seeing the awkward manner in which his kinsman Reymond was placed, ventured into the river, and gained the opposite bank; and whilst he was engaged in defending himself against the citizens of Limerick, who attacked him with stones, and threatened to kill him, Reymond, who had hitherto been employed in the rear of his army, appeared on the river side, and seeing the imminent danger to which his nephew Meyler was exposed, exhorted his troops to try the passage of the Shannon; and such was the influence of this brave leader over them, that at the risk of their lives they followed him across the river, and having put the enemy to flight, took quiet possession of their city.' Having left a strong garrison in Limerick under the command of his kinsman Milo of St David's, Reymond returned to Leinster with the remainder of his army. But in consequence of unfavourable representations respecting his conduct made to the king, he was on the point of returning to England, when intelligence reached Strongbow that Donnell O'Brien was again in arms, and investing Limerick with a powerful army; and that, as the garrison had nearly consumed their whole winter stock of provisions, immediate succour was absolutely necessary. Strongbow resolved accordingly to fly to their relief without loss of time; but the whole army refused to march to Limerick under any leader but Reymond, who was consequently persuaded to postpone his departure, and to take command of the troops. He set out, accordingly, for Munster, at the head of 80 knights, 200 cavalry, and 300 archers, to which were joined a considerable body of Irish, as they passed through Ossory and Hy Kinselagh, under the command of their respective princes. Donald O'Brien was not inactive, but advanced to meet him to the pass at Cashel, which was not only strong by nature, but rendered more difficult of access by trees and hedges thrown across it. Meyler's usual success, however, attended him. Whilst Donald was animating his troops to battle, the impatient Meyler burst forth like a whirlwind, destroyed the hedges, opened a passage by his sword, and putting the enemies to flight, again took possession of the city. Shortly afterwards, a parley was held with Reymond by the king of Limerick and Roderic O'Conor, in which the Irish princes once more swore allegiance to King Henry and his heirs, and delivered up hostages as a guarantee of their fidelity. The death of Earl Strongbow, however, which followed soon after these events, once more restored Limerick to its native prince, never again to be wrested from him but by death. In consequence of the necessary departure of Reymond from Ireland, it was deemed expedient, as well by himself as by his friends, to relinquish the possession of a city so surrounded by enemies, and which it required so large a force to defend, and particularly as no person could be found willing to take the command of its garrison after his departure. Making a virtue of necessity, therefore, Reymond unwillingly conferred the command on Donnell himself, as a liege servant of the king, who, in accepting of it, renewed his former promises of fidelity and service by fresh oaths of allegiance. But oaths were very lightly observed by all parties in those troubled times; and Reymond and his followers had scarcely passed the farther end of the bridge, than the citizens, at the instigation of Donnell, who declared that Limerick should no longer be a nest for foreigners, broke it down, and set fire to the city in four different quarters. Yet it was not resigned to Donnell without another effort. In 1179, a grant of the kingdom of Limerick, then wholly in the possession of the Irish, having been made to Herbert Fitz-Herbert, who resigned it to Philip de Braosa, or Bruce, the English, with their Irish allies, led by Miles Cogan and Robert Fitzstephen, invested the city, with a view to establish Bruce in his principality; but they were no sooner perceived from the ramparts of the town than the garrison gave a striking proof of their inveterate hostility by setting it on fire; and though Cogan and Fitzstephen still offered to lead on the attack, Bruce and his followers refused to risk their lives in a contest whose first beginnings gave so bad an omen of success. After a series of conflicts with the English in different parts of Munster, in which he was usually the victor, Donnell O'Brien died a natural doath in 1194, and with him the line of Irish kings of Limerick may be said to have terminated. In the following year we find the town in the possession of the English, and though it was again taken from them in 1198, it was recovered shortly afterwards by the renowned William de Burgo, who formed a settlement, which from that period defied all the power of the Irish. This result was in a great measure owing to the natural strength of position of the city itself; but it was not till years afterwards that its strength was rendered such as it might be supposed was impregnable, by the erection of the proud fortress, of the ruins of which our view will give a tolerable idea. This castle, and the bridge, which has been recently rebuilt, were erected by King John in 1210; and though the former has since that period been the scene of many a national conflict, its ruins still display a proud magnificence, and are not an unworthy feature of the scenery on the banks of that mighty river which has so often witnessed its trials and contributed to its defence. P. EDITORIAL SQUABBLES. THERE are not many things we like better than a row, a paper war between a couple of newspaper editors; there is something so delectable in the sincere cordiality with which they abuse each other-so amusing in the air of surpassing wisdom and knowledge with which they contradict, and in the easy confident superiority with which they demolish each other's assertions and positions. The most pleasant feature perhaps in the whole, however and it is one that pervades all the manifestoes of their High Mightinesses-is the obvious conviction of each that he is demolishing, annihilating his antagonist; while you, the cool, dispassionate, and unconcerned reader, feel perfectly satisfied (and here lies the fun of the thing) that this said antagonist, so far from being demolished or annihilated, will become only more vigorous and rampant for the castigation inflicted on him. Another amusing enough feature of editorial controversies is the infallibility of these worthy gentlemen. An editor is never wrong; it is invariably his contemporary," who has misunderstood or misrepresented him, either through ignorance or wilfulness. He did not say that what he did say was this; and if his contemporary had read his article with ordinary attention, he would have found it so. The editorial war being carried on in different styles according to circumstances and the tempers of the belligerents, the hostile articles assume various characters, amongst which are what may be called the Demolisher or Smasher, the Contradictor (calm and confident), the Abuser, and the Rejoinder and Settler (with cool and easy accompaniments). Of these various styles we happen to have at this moment some pretty tolerable specimens before us, two or three of which we shall select for the edification of our readers. The first is from "The Meridian Sun," and is of the description which we would call THE DEMOLISHER. Our contemporary "The Northern Luminary," as that concentration of dullness and opacity has the effrontery to call itself, is, we see, at his old tricks again. In the present case he is amusing himself with nibbling and cavilling at our account of the great public political dinner given by the inhabitants of our good town to our independent member, Josiah Priggins of Parsley-green, Esq. Our veracious contemporary accuses us of having omitted all notice of the hisses with which, he says, some portions of Mr Priggins's speech were received. He further charges us with passing over in silence certain “disgraceful disturbances" by which, he asserts, the evening was marked, and concludes by stigmatizing the meeting as one of the lowest in character, and most unruly in conduct, that ever brought odium on a respectable community. Now, can our readers guess the secret of all this spleen on the part of" The Northern Luminary," of which, by the way, a certain prominent feature of that gentleman's face is no bad type? We will tell them he was not invited to the dinner! And, more, let us tell him, had he presented himself, he would not have been admitted! Here, then, is the whole secret of the affair, and having mentioned it, we have explained all, and need not say that the "hisses" and "disgraceful disturbances" are gratuitous inventions of the enemy-in other words, downright fabrications. We had the honour of being at the dinner in question, and sat the whole evening at Mr Priggins's left hand, and, thus situated, if there had been hissing, we certainly must have heard it. But there was none. Not a single hiss; and for the truth of this assertion we unhesitatingly pledge our word of honour. So far from any part or parts of Mr Priggins's speech being hissed, every sentiment, almost every word that gentleman uttered, was hailed with unanimous and unbounded applause. In fact, we never heard a speech that gave such general satisfaction. As to the "disgraceful disturbances," these we leave to the party of which the Northern Luminary is the avowed supporter. Has he forgotten the scene that occurred at the last public dinner of his friends at the Hog and Pigs Tavern? He may, but we have not. This statement, of course, rouses the utmost wrath of the editor of the "Northern Luminary," who to the Demolisher of his contemporary replies with a red-hot ABUSER. we guarded our expressions by the word "conditionally," It is (says the editor of The Northern Luminary") the na-posed Russia occupying Timbuctoo as a friend, not possessture of the serpent to sting, of the cur to bite, and of the editor ing it as an enemy; and in this view of the case we repeat of the Meridian Sun, save the mark! the farthing candle-to that the balance of power would in no ways be affected. We fabricate falsehoods. This low scurrilous scribbler, this vile grant our contemporary's conclusions, but deny his premises. reptile, who leaves his slimy track on every subject over With regard to our contemporary's sneer at our political which he crawls, is again spitting his venom at us, and the knowledge, we would reply by calling his attention to his own friends of social order. But we will put our heel on the loath-blundering articles-(see his incomprehensible article on the some toad, and crush him as we would the disgusting little corn-laws, his interminable article on the poor-rates, his unanimal which he so much resembles. We were not invited to intelligible article on free trade and the Kamschatka loan, &c. Mr Priggins's dinner! We were, thou prince of liars! We &c. &c. The editor of the Patagonian may rest assured that were invited to the dinner, but we treated the invitation with he has much to learn in the science of politics, and much, too, the contempt it deserved. We knew that you, the editor of that we could teach him, although it is no business of ours to the Farthing Candle, were to be there-(when did you refuse a enlighten his ignorance. C. dinner, pray?)—and on this account we declined the invitation. We would not be seen sitting in the company of a man so utterly devoid of the feelings and principles of a gentleman, as the person alluded to is well known to be; and this, we repeat, was the reason why we did not honour the dinner in question with our presence. That Priggins was hissed, and that the evening was marked by a most disgraceful disturbance, we have most respectable and most undoubted authority for repeating, and we repeat it accordingly. The effrontery is indeed monstrous and unblushing that would deny facts so notorious. Let the dastardly editor of the Farthing Candle again deny these facts if he dare. Our next specimen is from "The Patagonian," a paper of gigantic dimensions. It is THE CONTRADICTOR (with calm and confident accompaniments). Our contemporaray "The Watch Tower" is grossly mis taken when he asserts that Ministers were out voted on the question of the potato monopoly. They were not outvoted. They merely abandoned the measure, as we foresaw they would do from the first, and as we from the first advised them to do. Our contemporary is equally wrong in ascribing to a certain political party an undue influence in the affairs of this city. We know for certain that the party alluded to have no such influence. The idea is absurd. "The Watch Tower" mean by saying that the Pray what can balance of power would not be in the least disturbed by Russia's taking possession of Timbuctoo. Absurd! The balance of power would be disturbed, and very seriously too, by such a proceeding. By gaining possession of Timbuctoo, Russia would gain possession of Africa; and by gaining possession of Africa, Russia would gain possession of Cape Coast Castle, the coast of Guinea, and the Cape of Good Hope; and by gaining the Cape of Good Hope, she would deprive us of the East Indies. And, pray, where would we be then? We put the question to our contemporary with solemn earnestness, and with calm composure wait for his reply. Really, our friend "The Watch Tower" is but a so-so hand at politics. He positively should be more cautious how he speaks of matters with which he is unacquainted. The consequence of an opposite conduct is a series of the most ridiculous blunders. "The Watch Tower" is not to be contradicted and browbeat in this way with impunity. He gives in return A REJOINDER (with cool and easy settler). In reply to certain captious remarks that appeared in yesterday's Patagonian on our leading article of the 15th instant, we beg to say, for the information of the editor of that paper, that we did not say that Ministers were out voted on the potato question. What we did say was, that Ministers would have been out voted on that question had they brought it to issue. Strange that our contemporary will not read us aright. Again, in ascribing a certain influence to a certain party, SLIGHTED LOVE, FROM THE SPANISH, BY M. "-Poor youth!--And, Juan !-spake he aught Of what he felt, before he died? '— "And when Death hovered nearer still, That Life, o'erdarkened by Despair, Who wept aloud his early doom; "-And-Shepherd!-when the heavenly spark Was flickering in its lamp of clay, What said he more? or said he aught ?"- ROOSHKULUM, OR THE WISE SIMPLETON, A LEGEND OF CLARE. BY J. G. M'Teague. CORNEY NEYLAN, our village schoolmaster, when any question of arithmetic may be proposed to him which he is in no humour to answer, and would rather turn off by a joke, has been frequently known to reply to it by asking another question, like this: "Now, boys, ye're striving to puzzle me; and I'll engage none of ye can answer something that I'll ask ye, now.' "What is it, Corney? Let's hear it!" "How many grains of oatenmale are contained in one given square foot of stirabout?" This is, in its turn, a poser; but probably the number of schemes, tricks, and contrivances, in an Irish cranium, might be found as hard to be enumerated as the grains of meal in the aforesaid foot of stirabout! Thus, while around the blazing turf fire, on a winter's evening, the story, the pipe, and the joke, take their rounds by turn, you will invariably discover that that tale always gains a double share of applause which may contain a relation of some clever successful scheme or trick, or the "sayings and doings" of some remarkably clever fellow, albeit perhaps a great rogue; in fact, such stories as these are suited to the conceptions and tastes of a shrewd and ready-witted people. But without tiring my reader with any more "shanachus," for so we term "palaver" in Clare, let me endeavour to present him with one of these very stories, which, if it boasteth not of much interest, may perhaps amuse him by its originality. Honour to that man, whomsoever he may be, who first res cued these curious legends from oblivion, and found in our Irish Penny Journal an excellent repository for their safer preservation! The reader must not be surprised if my story contains a slight dash of the marvellous, probably bordering on the hyperbolical; but this, which I verily believe is but a kind of ornament, something superadded by the genius of the narrators, as it has descended, must be taken as it is meant, and will in most instances be found capable of translation, as it were, into language easily and naturally to be explained. A very long time ago, then, somewhere in the western part of the province of Munster, lived, in a small and wretched cabin, a poor widow, named Moireen Mera. She had three sons, two of whom were fine young men ; but the third—and | of him we shall soon hear a good deal-though strong and active, was of a lazy disposition, which resulted, as his mother at least always thought, not so much from any fault of his own, as from his natural foolishness of character; in fact, she really considered him as of that class called in Ireland " turals." But before we say anything of the third son, let us trace the histories of his two elder brothers. na Now, the first, whose name was Mihal More, or Michael Big Fellow, either that he considered the small spot of land which his mother held quite unable to support the family, or was actuated by some desire to improve his condition away from home, never let his mother rest one moment until she had consented to his starting, in order that he might, as he said, should he fall in with a good master, return, and perhaps make her comfortable for the remainder of her days. To this plan, after much hesitation, Moireen Mera at length agreed, and the day was fixed by Mihal for starting. And, mother," said he, though you have but little left, and it is wrong to deprive you of it, if you would but bake me a fine cake of wheaten bread, and if you could but spare me one of the hens-ah! that would be too much to ask!—against the long road; could you, mother?" 66 64 "Why not, Michael? I could never refuse you any thing; and you will want the cake and the hen badly enough. And, Mihal, a vick asthore! if you should ever meet one of the good people, or any thing you may think is'nt right, pass it by, and say not a word." It was evening when he began his expedition, nor did he stop on the road till daylight returned, when he found himself in the centre of a wood, and very faint and hungry. Seeing a convenient-looking rock near a place where he thought it most probable he should find water, he seated himself, with the intention of satisfying his hunger and thirst. He had not been many moments engaged in eating some of his bread, and had just commenced an attack on the hen, by taking off one of her wings, when there came up to him a poor greyhound, which looked the very picture of starvation. Greyhounds are proverbially thin, but this was thinner than the thinnest, and, it was easy to see, had doubtlessly left at home a numerous young family. Mihal More was so very intent on eating that he heeded not the imploring look of the poor greyhound, and it was not till, wonderful to say, she addressed him in intelligible Irish, that he deigned to notice her. But when the first word came from her mouth, he was sure she must be one of those against any communication with whom his mother had so emphatically warned him, and accordingly determined to apply her maxim strictly to the occurrence. You are a traveller, I see,' said the greyhound, "and were doubtless weary and fainting with hunger when you took your seat here. I am the mother of a numerous and helpless family, who are even now clamorous for subsistence; this I am unable to afford them, unless I am myself supported. You have now the means. Afford it to me, then, if only in the shape of a few of the hen's small bones; I will be for ever grateful, and may perhaps be the means of serving you in turn when you may most want and least expect it." But Mihal continued sedulously picking the bones, and when he had finished, he put them all back into his wallet, still resolving to have nothing whatever to do with this fairy, represented, as he imagined, by the greyhound. "Well!" said she, plteously, "since you give me nothing, follow me. You are perhaps in search of service; my master, who knows not my faculty of speech, lives near he may assist you. And see," continued she, as he followed, "behold that well. Had you relieved me, it was in my power to have changed its contents, which are of blood, to the finest virgin honey; but the honey is beneath the blood, neither can it now be changed! However, try your fortune, and if you are a reasonably sensible fellow, I may yet relent, and be reconciled to you." Mihal still answered not a word, but followed the greyhound, until she came to the gate of a comfortable farmer's residence. She entered the door, and Mihal saw her occupy her place at the side of the fire, and that she was quickly besieged by a number of clamorous postulants, whose wants she seemed but poorly adequate to supply. At a glance he perceived that the house contained a master and a mistress; but an old lady in the chimney corner, having by her a pair of crutches, made him quail, by the sinister expression of her countenance. Still, nothing daunted, he asked the master of the house at once for employment. "Plenty of employment have I, friend, and good wages," answered he, "but I am a man of a thousand: and I may also say, not one man of a thousand will stop with me in this house." "And may I ask the reason of this, sir?" said Mihal, taking off his hat respectfully. "I will answer you immediately; but first follow me into my garden. There," said he, pointing to a heap of bones which lay bleaching on the ground, "they are the bones of those unfortunate persons who have followed in my service; if now, therefore, you should so wish, you have my full permission to depart unhurt: if you will brave them, hear now the terms on which I must be served." 'Sir," answered Mihal, "you surprise me. I have travelled far, have no money, neither any more to eat; say, therefore, your terms; and if I can at all reconcile myself to them, I am prepared to stop here." "You must understand, then," said the farmer. "that I hold my lands by a very unusual tenure. This is not my fault. However, you will find me an indulgent master to you, at all events; for, in fact, you may chance to be my master as much as I yours, or perhaps more; for these are the terms: 66 If I, at any time, first find fault with any one thing you may say or do, you are to be solemnly bound to take this (pointing to an immense and sharp axe), and forthwith, without a word, strike me till I shall be dead: but should you, at any one time, first find fault with one of my words or actions, I must be equally bound to do the very same dreadful thing to yourself. Blame me not, therefore, should you find fault with me, for it will be my destiny, nay, my duty, to do as I have described; and, on the contrary, if it happen otherwise, I must be ready to submit to my fate. Consider, and reply." 66 O, my master!" said Mihal More, "I have but the alternative of starvation; I am in a strangely wild country, without a friend. I must die, if I proceed, and nothing more dreadful than death can happen to me here. I therefore throw myself on your compassion, and agree to your terms.' They then returned to the house, and Mihal felt somewhat refreshed, even by the smell alone of the savoury viands which the mistress was then preparing for the afternoon's repast; the greyhound, too, cast occasionally wistful glances towards the operations going forward. At length the dinner hour being all but arrived, the old lady in the chimney-corner then opened her lips for the first time since Mihal had come in, and expressed a wish to go out and take a walk; 46 for," said she, I have not been out for some weeks, ever since our last servant left us. What is your name, my man?" So he told her. "Come out, then," said she, Mihal, and assist me about the garden, for I am completely cramped." 66 Mihal muttered a few words about dinner, hunger, and so on, but was interrupted by the farmer, who said, Mihal, you must attend my mother; she has sometimes strange fan cies. Besides, remember our agreement. Do you find fault with me?" "O, by no means, sir," said Mihal, frightened; "I must do my business, I suppose.' The dinner was actually laid out on the plates to every one when Mihal and the old lady walked out. No sooner had they done so, than the greyhound, before she could be prevented, pounced on his dinner, and devoured it in a moment! The old lady thought proper to walk for some hours in the garden; and now was Mihal very hungry, for he had tasted nothing since he had finished the hen early that morning; he almost began to wish that he had relieved the greyhound. When they came in at last, the supper was being prepared. Mihal was now quite certain that his wants would be attended to; but how woefully was he doomed to be disappointed! For, no sooner had they entered the house than the accursed old lady seized a large cake of wheaten bread, which was baking on the embers, and, hastily spreading on it a coat of butter, directed Mihal to attend her again into the garden! He could say nothing, for his master's eyes were on him. He was completely bewildered. In despair he went with the old lady, and as it was a lovely moonlight night, she stopped out an unusual time, and it was very late when they came in. Mihal stretched himself, quite fainting, on the bed, but slept not a wink. How I wish, now, thought he, that I had given the greyhound not only the small bones, but even half my hen! The next morning the family early assembled for breakfast, and again were the cakes put down to bake over the glowing fire. Again did the old lady seize one, and command Mihal into the garden! He was now completely exhausted; and, determining to expostulate with his master when he came in, went up to him, craving some food. "No," said the farmer; "we never eat except at stated times, and my mother keeps the keys." Ah, sir, have pity on me!" answered Mihal; "how can I exist, or do your business?" "And can you blame me?" said the master. Mihal, now quite losing sight of the agreement, and confused by the question, put in so treacherous a manner, answered, that of course he could not but blame any person who would permit such infamous conduct." 66 Here was the signal. Mihal, in his enfeebled state, was no match for the sturdy farmer; in a moment his head was rolling on the floor by a vigorous stroke of the fatal axe, while grins of satisfaction might be seen playing on the countenances both of the old lady, and her greyhound! The feelings of the poor widow may be imagined, when no tidings ever reached her of her Mihal More. But, on the expiration of a year, the second son, Pauthrick Dhuv, or Patrick Black Fellow, so called from his dark complexion, also prevailed on his mother to let him go in search of his brother, and of employment. But why should I describe again the horrid scene? Let me satisfy you by merely saying that precisely the same occurrences also happened to poor Pauthrick Dhuv, and that his bones were added to those of his brother, and of the other victims behind the farmer's garden! But when, in the course of another year, neither Mihal nor Pauthrick appeared, the widow's grief was unbounded. How was she, then, astonished, when " the fool," as he was yet always called, although his real name was Rooshkulum, actually volunteered to do the same! Nothing could stop The conversation that ensued when Rooshkulum arrived at the farmer's, and offered himself for his servant, was much of the same nature as I have before detailed while relating the former part of my story. "But," said Rooshkulum the fool, "I will not bind myself to these terms for ever; I might get tired of you, or you of me; so, if you please, I will agree to stop with you for certain till we both hear the cuckoo cry when we are together." To this they agreed, and went into the house. However, just before they stepped in, the farmer asked Rooshkulum his Why, really," said he to her, "mine is a name that no one, I venture to say, was ever called before. All my brothers and sisters died, and my father and mother thought that perhaps an unusual queer kind of name might have luck, so they called me ‘Mehane.” And, reader, if thou understandest not our vernacular, know that "Mehane" signifies in English "myself." They spent some hours, as usual, in the garden, and Rooshkulum returned tired and exhausted. But when he expected to get his supper, and when she again brought him out, and ate the fine hot buttered cake before his very eyes, it was more than flesh and blood could stand. However, he pretended not to mind it in the least, but was very civil to the old lady, amusing her by his silly stories. "And now, ma'am," said he, "let's walk a little way down this sunny bank before we go in." Certain it was that the sun did happen to shine on the bank at that very time, but it was to what were growing on it that he wished to direct her close attention; for when he came to a certain place where there was a cavity filled by a rank growth of nettles, thistles, and thorns, he gave his charge such a shove as sent her sprawling and kicking in the midst of them, uttering wild shrieks, for the pain was great. But Rooshkulum had no notion of helping her out, and ran into the house, which was some distance away, desiring the farmer to run, for that his mother would walk there, and had fallen into a hole, from which he could not get her out. And then the farmer ran, and cried, "O, mother, where are you? what has happened?" Alas, my son! here I am down in this hole! Help me out! I am ruined, disfigured for life!" "And who is it," said the farmer, "that has dared to serve you thus ?" Mehane a veil Me "O," said she, "it was Mehane! hane!" (Myself has ruined myself!) "Who?" said the farmer, as he helped her out. "O, it was Mehane," answered she; "Mchane a veil Mehane !" "Well, then," said the farmer, "I suppose it can't be helped, as it was yourself that did it. So here, Boy!' take her on your back, and carry her home; it was but an accident !" So Rooshkulum carried her off and put her to bed, she all the time crying out, "Ah! but it was Myself that ruined Myself!" till her son thought her half cracked. She was quite unable to rise next morning; so Rooshkulum “the fool" made |