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A WEEKLY JOURNAL OF POLITICS, LITERATURE

YORE AVT:'3 LITERATURE,

ELL EM

| From Mrs. S. C. Halts Sketches of Insh Character }

THE RAPPAREE.

dear, itis smoking up to but it’s by ve manner o’

True for veu, ma‘at the mines, sure enough clesome, more particularly at this it will clear, my lady,

ban eving off now

Moving up, you tiean,”” rephed the young lody to whom this speech waa addressed, aud whose eve followed the thick and curling sinoke that twisted and twisted. in serpent-like folds, around the blackened raflera of “Mr Corney l’bel n'a Original Ino,” —so, at leat, the dwelling was designated by the painted board that had ener graced it, bul now played the part of door to a dilapidated pigsty. Again, anol her velume felded down the chimney, for so the orifice was terwed, under which the goed teunpeced and rosy Ne iveuring to kindle a fire, with wet boughs and erumbling turt. The maid the ion knelt before the unmanageable con- beeewtihles, theming the cheering flame with ber spren,or puffing it with ber breath; the bellows

is true, lay at her side, but it was bereft of nose and handle “Poor thing,” she said, compas- sienately, “it waen't i natur to laet for and sure, wasters grandmother bought it tage, at the fair of Clon- ner anything else, as |

wanes unwi season. when its eo cou/d;

ute see, it a4

y Clarey wae end

tel fn

it's ver: bs good as thirty years Suse as & Chrosily, more Heard say

~ Are you sure,” interrogated the voung Indy, after patientiy submiltir te be smoke-dried tor many minutes — “tare you sure that the flue is tiea ,

Is it clear, my lady Why, then, bad cesa to me for not thinking of that before !— eure I've goed right te remember (him devils o' crows mak- ing their nesteena in the chimbley; and it's only when the likes o you and yer honorable father step at the inn, that we ‘ight a fire ia this place ai all.”

She took up the wasting ¢ indle. that waa stack ien of a candlestick, and, placing tormed foot on @ projecting eim- if, dexterously catching the huge beam that crossed the chimney with her

gaged hand, awung herself half way up the yawning cavern, without apparet tly experiencing auy the dense afmosphere Alter mvestigating for e ome time, ** lraddy Dow- ley '—Paddy Dooley” exclained, here, like a good bey . wid the pitehtork, till we niake way tor the smoke.”’

J ean't, Nelly honey, * rey lied Mister Pad ly from a shed that was erected close to the “ par- lour™ “arn't I atriving to fix a bit of a manger, that his honeur’s horses way eat their hay, and beautiful oats, dacenutly, what they're accustomed to—but Larry can gu.”

' said Nelly, in a coaxing lend us a hand here wid this pitet-

ina potato, it a bare bat well- brasure wear the basem

liseng

Ineoenvenience frou

ahe “* Gone

Wihdew,

~ Larry, aveurneen tene, do fork.”

“Its quare mannera of ye, Nelly,—a dacent girl bke ye, to be asking « gentleman like me for bis hand (Larry, it must be underatoed, waa the | bocher and wit of the establichmenty, and IT trying tor the dear life te rasen wid this ould lady, and take her keep in the aty; s4e nosed @ bole through the beautiful sign.”

“Bad look te ye korh!” ejyeulated Ellen. | angrily ; “* PH tell the marther, su I will,” she ad- ded. jumping on the elay floor, her avpearance | net at all umproved by ber accent. * Meather, here's the bows and the crows. after botherin’ me: them te beip oe dewnu with the nest ? | —the lady*s shivering alive with the could, end net a sparkle of fire to keep it from ber heart.”

* Pron't you be alter be therin’ we, Nelly,” re- pled the best: “but [ax parden for my unman

Wil ven tes

neriiness,”” he continued, « wooing inte the reom— his pipe stuck firmly between hie teeth, and bix retand person steopiig in a bowing attitude tes | Mixes Dartiorth—" eure Tl) move it myself with all the veins o my heart, te pleasure the lady at any time!—Give us a loan of the pitehtork, | Larry.”

‘To tell God's truth, master, it's broke and the emith——bad look te him! ~lerget te eall for if, and litthe Paddeen torget it—but bere’s the shevel “li do as well, and better too, tor it's ws good a8 a broom, seeing it'a 80 neatiy eplit at | the broad end.” ** The master” took the shovel | ret angrily, as an Englixt master would bave done, at euch neglect; bot taking for granted that a shovel would de as well asa pitehtork, or a brew, or anythu g elee, “ when it came ary tu hand,” and perieetiy well satisfied with Larry's ingenuity, be poked, and poked, up the chimney, while Ellen ateod looking on at bis exertions, her head upturned, her ample mouth widg open, dis- playing her white teeth to great advantage. Pre- | seatly, down came sueh on accumulation of soot, | drwd aticks, clay, and disigreeables, that Neily placed her bands on ber eyes, and ran inte the kitchen, exelanming * that ehe wae blinded for | lite: while the young lady, half suffocated, tol-| lowed her example, and lett ‘ mine best of the publie” to arrange his crows’ nests aceording to his faney. The kitehen of an Irish inn (net an

o late

inferior place of public accommodation — but what would be termed in England a “ posting heute’), at the period of which I treat, would

now be considered as amore befitting shelter for | a tribe of Zingari, than for Christman travellers; it was a reoem of large dimensions, and high ele vation, with an earthen floor worn into many in- | equalities, and an enormous bole m the root | direetly over where the fire waa plaeed, through whieh the amoke atter hanging, as it were, in tantastie draperies around the discolored apartment. A massive bar stood out from the wall, agama, or tearly guinet, which the fire was lighted, and from it were suapended sundry crooks aud wondeseript choins, fitting for the sup- pert of iron pets and such cooking vessels as were | pot requisition, when ‘quality stepped, evtber trow weeessity, or tor refreshment, in the wid and meountameus district where resided Mr. Corney Phelan; tdeed, the house was trequeuted more by farmers’ drovers endeavoring to conduct wild meantam sheep tothe markets of Watertord, |

esc a pec

Inte

er even Dublin (and [ have new in my possession |

some old family memoranda, which state the price ped ter such animals, eC that time, te have been two atilliegs aod six pence per head), and persons in that sphere of lif, than by such geutry Dartforth, who travelled in hia own car-

& riage, and with a auttable wamber ot attendants:

»s i*

phe was a rich landed proprwtor, a justice of the |

peace, and M P tor the county town. It may

be readily supposed that the arrival of persons ot

rank was a matter of importance, and that some | preparations were made in the “ parlour,’ was called, while the worthy magistrate ocenped In luspeetng the accommodation provided for hia horses in the ont-houses. “The animals had | tndergone much fatigue, for the gentleman and | bia daughter had journey 1 trom Dublin: and | when he drew near the dwellugs of seme of his | priveipal tenants, be bad called upon them, as | “gale day” was passed, to colleet his rente. The | reads leading to these dwellinga had, in many in- | stances, been rendered heavy, and nearly impas- | sable by the raing: the herses were almost foun- | dered; and, altuengh within a few miles of home, | it waa fonnd linpossible to proceed without giving

them some hours’ rest. Mes Dartforth, with the Cheertuiness and good nature so charming in fe-| nales of every age, aceommodated herself te cir- | curnetaneces, took off her bat, and, having in vain Fought, with the ken of A | ughing blae eye, for What a woman, however old and ugly, would fain see I every room—a foricr: g giass—ehook back her clustering tresses, whic twined in wild luxu- | rianee over her gracetyl for 1: then, partially un- ¢ asplng @ ailver laced riding-habit, she made her way annd five or six barelegged * helpers,” sone ©-Zene of Varions-sized pigs, tow! and collies, toa .-iree legged seat near the fire. close toa petted ; white calf. that had established itself very quietly

ena “loek of straw,” in the mout comfortable

Pertion atthe apartment She then commenced | leisurely investigating the whime and oddities of

the asseinbly ; avd the ani? that vecasionally ae- parated her tull rich lips, showed she was ap

amused epeetator of the 7 edange. Everything

appeared in contusion; the (andiady, whose mob | cop Was trimmed with a lune bed-gown of stripe | ed cotton, beneath Which a searlet petticoat, of

Duteh dimens:ons, stuck torch: ehe wae the only

female in the establishinent who luxuriated iu

thoes and stockings—the tor:ner were conGned on

the instep, by rich silver bus sles; and, though she

eceasionally sat with much «tate behind a eeiled

dal beard. v ‘ ‘ch presented a various assortment

of drinking measures, aud was garnished at either | end by kegs of Whiskey, yet did she keep a peces- fary, and not silent surceil/ance over the move Menta of the various groupe Some idea of her

Por reamesi t

Conversation, or, more properly speaking, her ob-|

Servations (tor she never waited tor a repl , a Rathered from the following :— wer :

we Miss Dartforth, my lady!—(Mary Murphy,

th ye fever finish pleking the few feavhera off at bind !)—my lady, 1 huvsbly ‘ask your pardon

\ NI

MMA

~ LIN

**'This iss t

CHARLOTTET(

on account of the smoke, and—(Nelly Clarey, Nelly Clarey, may-be it's myself wou't pay you off tor your villany ; dou’t tell ne of the erows ; what do 1 give you house-maid's wages for, but to look after my best eitting-roows !)—Mise Dartforth, ma‘am, is that baste (the cult ] mane) disagree- able to ye ?—it's a pet, ye see, ow account of its being white—quite white, Miss, every hair—and lucky —Billy Thompsan, ye little, dirty spalpeen! will ye have done draining the glasees into yer well of a mouth !—it'’s kind, father, for ye to be afther the whiskey, yet Ill trouble ye te keep yer distance trow my counter—Corney Phelan, it ud be only manners in ve to take the dudeen out 0’ your teeth, and the lady to the fore; I remewber when ye'd tuke it out afore me—why not 1—the day ye married me, dacency aud dacent bloud en- tered yer barrack of # house, end wade it what it ia, the most creditable inn in the country—Peg- gy Kelly, ye’re a handy girl, jump up, asthore, on the rafters, and cut a respectable piece of bacon off the best end of the fiitch—asy—sey! mind the hole in the wall, where the black hen is sitting— there, just look in, for Dam thinking the ehickene ought to be oat leomerrow or next day — — Larry, ye stricken devil! bave ye nothin’ to do, | that ye stund ebuck m the doorway ?—are ye takin’ pattern by yer urastere’s idleuess—hbe that dyes nothin from wornin’ till night but drink whir- key, smoke, sleep—sleep, emoke, and drink whis- key ?— Ob! but the beart within we i breakin’ tairly with the trouble — bad ceas to ye all !— Mthere’s the pratees beilin’ wad! and the beet !— I'll rid the place of the whole clan of ye—for it's head, bands and eyes I am to the entire boiee— ye crew !” &e. &e.—And the eloquent, burly ledy | sprang, with the ewkward velocity of a steam. | eartiage. fowarda the fire-place, oversetting everything in ber way, to ascertaim bew eulinary | | affairs were proceeding in two large iron versela, round which the witches in Macbeth might have danced with perfect glee—so deep, and dark, and fitting did they seem tor all the purposes of in- cantation.

Much amused, the young lady patted the calf whieh looked inte ber face with the unmeaning innecence of expression which characterizes the | aninal, and, a8 she stopped to conceal the smiles | excited by Mistress Corney Phelan'a anger, the lowsened tresees fell over ber brow and eyes; | their re-adjustuient occupied a few momente— | but when she looked up she saw a woman seated opposite fo ber, whem ehe certainly bad pot before noticed, and who she thought it very! strange should bave eseaped ler observation; her | dreaa bespoke the wendicant, and she eagerly | stretched her bony aud mascular bands over the | blazing turt fire; ber frame appeared chilied by the cold of a keen October evening that wae fast | closing—tor ber cloak rewained unfastened, and | even the hood, that perfectly concesled ber tea- | tures, waa unremeoved. Mias Dartforth could not | help remarking that the cloak was much longer |

| than is usually worn by Irish beggars, and the |

AW

KS

KS

KK

AND

NEWS.

rue Tiberty,

—~ -s- ea <== =

=

when Freeborn Men, haying to advise the Public, may speak free.” --- puripides.

IWN,

PRINCE EDWARD ISLAND, MONDAY, JANUARY 2,

1866,

C NO. 11

where so much outward homage is rendered to, was accordingly set in the centre of the kitchen, uncertainty and waywardness of what he,

the aristocracy. “Good woman,” interposed Miss Dartforth, coming up to her, and placing her hand gently on her shonider, “wall you ublige ‘me by exchanging seats, as my father suffers by the draught trom which your cloak protects you?” " ‘The beggar roae, and leaning, as if from exces- sive weakness or faligue, on her staff, crossed over to the other side, at the same tine mutter- ing some taint words, which neither father nor daughter could comprehend.

“Ia the woman deaf and dumb?” inqnired

and covered, 1 pot with elegant, certainly with substantial, fare ;—boiled fowl, enormous nonde- | seript masses of beef, “* neatly boulstered up,” t ‘uae Mrs. Phelan’s terms, with fine white cabbage and English carrots; potatoes, of course, were not wanting; and the travellers were too hungry to be fastidious. Muss Dartforth, who never for-

got the wants of others, heaped a plate, alter the | Irish fashion, with meat and potatoes, and, before |

her own dinner wae ended, turned to present i! to | the wendicant, but to her surprise, the woman had disappeared as mysteriously as she hed enter-

Frenevy, the robber and the outlaw, felt the /reproving voice from ‘star, and flower, and

in hs | olindness, designated FATE. | “* There is a bitterness in man's reproach, Even when his voice is mildest. and we deem That on onr heaven-born Freedom they encroach. | And with their frailties are ugt what they seem ; But the soft tones in star, in flower, or stream, O'er the anresisting bosom gently flow, | Like whispers which some spirit in a dream Brings from her heaven to him she ioved below, | To chide and wiu bis heart from earth, and sin, | and woe”

can be said of the men.” He sprang lightly inte dread of revolt atongst his gang, but from the-re- | ins saddle, and Boefstakes, as if conscious that | currenee, at such a moment of reedtiections that his utmost speed was required, used weil the | almost overpowered him. After issuing hie brief freedom cf a loosened bridle; horse and rider | directions, he walked to where Mise Dartworth were soon out of sight. had returned te support her father, and hardly

What the feelings of Nelly Clarey were, must answered the question of eve of his party, whe now, for ever, remain unknown, even te me, her having discovered the person | before mentioned, faithful bistorian; all I can record of her is, that asthe tamily * toady,” esiled up, or rather squat- she repeatedly wiped her eyes with the corner of | ting, like the sile reptile, whose name appropri- ber apron, and then gazing, only for a moment, | ately belongs to his claas, under huge furze-bush, on the spot where be had disappeared, with » diazerd him forth, and held him, after the deep-drawn sigh retraced her eteps to the miser- fashion of a bale of cloth, at either end, while be able, almost roofless, apartment, in which her exclaimed, “ Captain, dear! what's to be done

|

Mr. Dartforth, angry, perbaps, at her tardiness | ed! she was about to express ber surprise at this of motion. | circumstane +, when Nelly Clarey (who, blooming “She's ax good—juat then ae good as the one | under a cap which, in some degree, confined her and t’ other,’ replied the becker, cening torward, | clustering hair, and was ostentatiously garnished dexterously managing so as te make his eruteh | With cherry-coloured ribands, stood behind ber supply the place of his lost leg. “ She's an afflict- chair to the manifest annoyance of Mr. Daurt- ed crathur -— God presarve us !— but harmless, | forth’s old servant, whe always claimed the privi- and’s under a vow never to let the boed fall off ieges of waiting personally upon “his young ber head, iv rain or sunsbine—beat or cold—aight lady”), touched ber arm, whispering, at the same or day; and, what’s wore, pever to lay side on a! time, * For God's sake, never heed ber.” bed for the mext seven years. Ob! there's 3 The Octoberevenings in Ireland are damp and power o' holiness about her, plaze yer bonor.” | dreary ; nos bave they the uniformty clear sun- [suppose ahe has committed some dreadful | sets, oF invigorating atinosphere, which charae- crime, for which the religion yeu believe in re-| terize the farewell summer mouth in England. quires such atonement?” | Phe weeping skies of Ireland bave become almost “Crime! the erathur!—bless ye, no: she’s as | proverbial ; but, even while they weep, they smile invecent v’ crime, or passion, or avything o’ that|—apt emblem of the happ ly volatile tempera- sort as yer bonor, Och! no—the poor thing’s| ment of a people who have suffered much, and beart aches for the sins uv’ the world—she wishes | suffer still. 1 learned in early you'h to love the to ease 'em.”’ quickly closing evenings of autumn, and, at times, “A female erying philosopher!” observed Mr. | delight more in rain than in sunshine. I must, Dartforth te bis daughter. however, resume the thread of my narrative, and “ And yet there is something that, under other | mention that, at about the distance of a hundred cireumatauces, would be called philosophy, about | or a hundred-and-twenty” yards from the hag- it,” replied Norah. “ How often ia it that situ-| yard, which flanked the inn on the gorth, and ation and influence command the homage which, | protected it from the cold winds, ran a long wall, at first eight, appears paid to the virtue, not the | intended originaily as a division between the person!” | firms of two brothers who had sacrificed their “Miss Norry, you are growing too wise for! property in litigation, and died at last poor and ine,” said the male tuady, who was called, by his | penniless — the one in a distaut land, where be associates, “Swallow-all Dick ;” by his superiors, | had been sent by the off-nded laws of bis coun- * Dick ;” and by bis inferiora (meaning those who | try; the other in a jail. The wall was called by honestly Worked for their living)“ Mister Dick.” | the countay people, “the brother’s ban,” and a He stuod, with his bands in bis pockets, before the | good deai of superstitious feeling attached to it. fire, to the wanitest inconvenience of all engaged | Many of the stones had fallen to che earth, and in preparing the anticipated meal. lover them the gay green weeds had triumphed, “ What a wouder that is, to be sure!” motter-| while others showed dimly in the moonlight, and ed Lawe Larry, ‘as if you were one who could | might have been easily converted, by the magic ehee the gosliua, catch a Aevasel asleep, or spit a! of imagination, into things of living an] mysteri- sinbame.”’ jous form. A few stunted elms, with bere and * Hae there bean much news stirring lately—I | there a dark popular, waved gently in the chill wean durtag wy absence?” inquired Mr. Dart- | evening air; and, although the langh aud wassail forth, addressing Larry, who certatoly was the | sounds of the inn talkers and revellers called to wost intelligent peraon of * the Original Inn.’ | remembrance the proximity of human habitation, * Ouly afew more of Freney’s tricks playing | yet the undefinable dreariness of the spot was in- here, and there, and everywhere, pluze yer | creased, rather than broken, by the shadows of

heweur.”’

* The raeeal! bae any one yet discovered who he is, or where he came trom?”

* Lord, no, sir!— 8 bedy might as well hunt and eateh a leprechawn as him; did yer honour

tuet which projeeted trom beneath ite ample | hear how he sarved the judge and jury, at the tolds was covered by a substantial brogue. Once, | ferry o' Mount Garrett!) Weil, ye see, there was

,and once only, the fugitive, bul expressive, glance | a lot of fire-arme be wanted to get over; and the

i two persons, in earnest conversation, the one passing rapidly backwards und forwards with a tirm, undaunted step — the other halting, or ra- ther hopping, after the superior, endeavoring, in vain, to keep pace with him, yet bearing his rapid strides and upatient temper with extraurdinary geod humor,

“ Fine times, to be sure, they must be wid ye,

of a wild, bright eye wet hers, and the idea that | beatwan teuld him a« how be daren't let biw pass, | when ye let a good seven hundred —I dare say somewhere she bad before before evcountered a} in raaou that the judge waa going to cross in the | goold — hard goold —slip through yer fingers as

stream ;’ and the brief vision of one who, had he conducted himself with common propriety, wight have been the cherished and respected wife of his bosom, sent many a bitter pang of self-reproach through his aching beart. He contrasted what he was, with what he could have been; few are there who can bezr 80 miserable a retrospect unmoved.

He had seen Norah Dartforth not an hour be- fore, and the remembrance of ber surpassing loveliness pressed upou his imagination, in geatle but firm opposition of the efforts he made to obliterate ber image from his memory. Poor Nelly Clarey, whom, with [rish recklessness, be had often jested with, forgetting -the impression such conduct might have upon a thoughtless, but not a heartless girl—-in bis present refined mood now appeared a coarse aud vulgar creature ; and he felt mere angry with Hacket, for the insinu- ation he had threwn out about her, than for any other portion of bis remonetrance. At leagth, overcome with contending feelings, he rested his head against one of the huge, white stones, | have before mentioned ; and even while he watched the | flitting lights in the ian-yard, sleep steeped his | eyes in fo getfulness. | “Captain, dear, what ails ye?” were the kindly lsounds which awoke him te conscivusuess. \** Lord save us! jist at the very miuute whin ail, the wit ye have in the world is most wantiu’, to find ye sleepin’ in this unlucky place, in the could moonlight, aud not lookin’ a taste like yerself Rouse, Captain, honey! or thuse ye wish well toll be the worse for it.”

The robber eagerly and anxiously inquired what the young women's words portended.

“ Whist—-asy !"" exclaiuned Nelly, 1n a low con- fidential tone; “‘ sure they thiuk I'm asleep; for you dou’t look to me sensible that it’s close upon eleven, and the mistress's tongue itself is quiet a good hour agone; and the gentry set off afore nine; and there's more hot foot atter them, than you'd have a mind te, Pm thinkin’.”’

“ Nelly, fur Gud’s sake, come to facts at once,

or

*L will; sorra-a- word Tha’ said that wasn’t az true as gospel—but let me tell it wy own way. [ heard ye say to Larry (the poor, coneeated cra- ture!) that ye wanted most particular to see Breen; well, tor sartain sure, the bocker tould him so, for be bas been skulkin’ about the place all day ; but instead of coming to the fore, I notie- ed him bidin’ and pokin’ more like a grasnogue Weill, ye see, | went ont about the stables, jist to cool myselt, after the coukin’, and the flurry o’ dinner, and the quality, and all;

than a Christian,

/ mind such duties wait depeudeuce.”’

| trightened her out of the world while iv the prince

| his daughter. | bis geliing into passions with others, and, indecd

i proud and daring spirit, whieh, by different mav- | |

| —without even an adieu to her who had, pegeae |

similar look possessed ber imagination. While she was endeavoring to remember the where and | the when, ber father entered, attended by one or } two of his eervante, and accompanied by a rela- | tive, whe, according to the uneerably dependent | feeling that, I regret to say, is not yet baniebed | trom oy country, pleyed clerk, toudy, whipper-in, | understrapper, or what you please, to bis patron, | whe afforded biw bed, board, washing, clothes, and shooting: kindly requiring, in return, that he sbeuld act as uffidavit-man on all oceasious (par- teularly when be recorded wondertul stories), and laugh invariably at his jesta;—* Time out ot | The jostice was a free-hearted inau, frauk aud violent, good. | natured and obstinate, a talker of patriotixiu, a | practiser of tyranny, and feuder of bis pretty daugbter, Nor. Dartforth, than of his bounds, ie hunters, or even bie landed interest. Ir was. however, a well Kuown aud aceredited tale that he bad broken his wifes heart by frequent tits oi Vielenee ; or, Beore properly speaking, be bad

of youth and delicate, lily-like loveliness; be thet | tock au outh, which, I believe, be religiously kept, tuat he never would get inte a rage with | ‘Tins, nevertheless. did out preveni

his life, as must always be the case where auger is tudulged in, was # reuud of sine and repent- abees. The county report went on to say that there was one error he more surrowed over than the rest:—

Sometime after bis marriage, disappoiuted in not being blessed with au beir to his cetate, be adopted a boy of singular talents and beauty whose parents, bumble and industricus cotters, died ot wahguant fever, near his avenue gate: this bey | he chermhed with all a father’s love and tender- | eas, andeven the birth of a daughter, atter a | lapse Of many years, did not appear to dimimish the aflection be entertained fer the interesting youth. Untortunately, over-indulgence nurtured a

|

agement, could have been tamed to the gentle and enovbling duties of tite. The bey grew in beauty, and tuereased in talent; but he aise be- came imperions and overbearing; even if Mr | Dartforth and bis gentle lady were inclined to | make allowances tor bis wayward fancies and in- solent actions, the very bueublest sert on hie do- main was lovd im complaints of the parrenu's ty- ranny; and the wortby man, who had obstinately pereisted in a new-fangled idea, whiek he bad in- bibed from some of the French authore of the period —that the buman mind was of itself per-

tection, and that there were no impul-es given |

that needed restraint—persevered in his ‘ sys- tem,” as he ealled it, until the iuspetuous James

brought himeelt inte the strong arm of the law, by |

an ope act ot violence, directed against one of his protector’s brother magistrates, w hich, but for the interposition of pewertul friends, would have banished bin the country. It would have been better, perhaps, had the law been suffered, at that time, to take its course. He returned home with an insulted, but unsubdued, spirit, and the remonstrauces of bis well-meaning but ill judging friend were heard with visible symptoms of impa- tence ‘Tone voice ot reproof sounded harshly ou the ear that, for eighteen summers, had listeued te nothing but the honeyed accents of praise. In an evil hour, when both were heated with that nexious spirit—of which 1 cannot sufficiently ex- press my detestation, having tee often witnessed its banetul and pernicious effeets—words termi- nated in blows; Mr, Darttorth struck bis protege, and the other, whose tiger spirit eould ih brook

> aa jt | such an insult, hurled his almost father to the

earth. It is not too probable that merder would

| have terminated the disgraceful scene, had not

Norah, rewsed from her ight and innecent slun- bera by the fearful noise of the unnatural combat, rushed between them, and in an instant, ber soft, but energetic voice awoke the intemperate youth to a sense of his crime and ingratitude; the re- | membrance ot the insult inflicted was effaced by

'a sense of the evil he bad done, and he humbled |

himeelf, even to the dust, at Mr Dartforth’s feet. | Chen was the moment, when bis beart and feel- | ings could have been canght on the rebound, but | the wrathful and intoxicated man cursed the | stripling in the madness of his rage—it was a} deep, a bitter, an irreeallable, curse—that made | the maidea’s warm bleod run cold in her veins,

land withered the heart of the anfortunate vette |

of intemperate passion. Pale, trembling witb va- |

ried emotion, he crouched, for a moment, benrath | the ban—then rising, as the young woil-hound trom his lair, without a werd, a grean, or a tear | j

leas of her own interest, often palhated his faults | —he left, forever, the halls that had sheltered | his childhood,

Great as James's faults certainly were, it was said that Mr. Darttorth secretly blamed bimself for the resnit; but even Norah was mterdicted from mentioning the name of the once favoured boy, who, it was believed, had quitted the coun- | try for seme fur distant land. ‘Luere were, now.) ever, many who asserted that, after Patrick | James had left Mr. Dartforth, ** his honer had never been rightly his ewn man ;” and, indeed, it was evident to al! that his temper and habits had not improved since his protege had abseonded. a

As the magistrate seated birgself on a ebair, which the bus'ling landlady efficieusly presented” him, next to bia gentle and affectionate c! “his heart’s darling,” as he termed her, in the wari language ot Lrish phraseology, that daugh- ter thonght she had aren seen her father’s cheek

ole, or his eye 80 rayless. ( ieee father {? she exclaimed, preasing her

‘left cheek to his, * sit at the opposite side ; I will

ove with yeu — you are chilled, but there you wilh be quite shielded from the draught of the t d rit ” > " Make way for yer betthers, honey ! sereamed

| the landlady in the ear of the mendicant, who

age eo ste did pot seem inclined to retinquish her sea \*the gentry ;" a@ very unusual thing 1 Ireland,

| ibe redcoale, wailing to cross the contrary wav.

| lordxnip,’ replied the sargent, * we've just bead

|‘ Could ye describe him?’ says the judge.

_ cuurse of the day, and bis people were keepin’ | asy as kiss my band; the boys ‘ll never stand it;

the boat. ‘Is that ail?’ saye Freney, suys he— | how could they ?”’ observed the lame one.

the blue eye dancin’ out of bie head wid seurn, at| “* Not stand it!) What the devil do you mean, the little wito’ the beatwan ; and he goes bis way. | Hacket, when there ia not an ounce of brains Wei, jist a# the judge, and all the law and the | among a troop of them? Way, Breen bunself country—(yer bonour’s glory was out of it at the | dare not—ay, L say dare not—dispute my will in same time, ye know, se it didn't take up much | anything.”

roew )—the law aod the justice all packed tight “Maybe not; but I know he looked mighty and comfortabie iv the boat, aw need be—up | black wheu | tould bim ye meaut that old Huncks comes # poor blind ould erathur of a wan—seem- | to get home seot-free.”

‘ugly #8 dark as dungeon, leadin’ a baste with a “Black! did he?) I wish IT had seen him. I load of brooms of bis back. ‘Och, my misery!’ | tell ve, Hacket bis gold, if [ touched it, would says the ould crathur—setting up a pushalew that | blister my fingers—it would kindle bell’s own fire ‘ud reach trom this to Bantry,—-* and it’s Vil be | within my heart. For fifleen years I eat of his too late, God beip me! and wise the market’ | bread, and even his own child, that creature Well, yer honour, for once the judge listened to | whose pure and spetle-s hand, net two hours inarey—and a poor man the pleader, ‘Come. | since, rested on my shoulder—(it war like a dove benest friend,’ says be. * We ll wake reom fer you, | seeking repose on a haw k's wing) — even when aud yer baste can swim over” ‘God mark ye to) that chiid was born, the same shelter, the same ylory,’ says the ould wan; ‘but what'll [do with |emile wasmine. Blessed Virgin!” be continued, wy broowe?’ ‘Lay ’em in the bettow of the | striking bis torebead silently, “ you, a poor dis- boat,’ gaye the judge; and they all got over com-| membered, blighted creature, can understand fortuble together, Well, when they reached the | that yeu couldu’t tear the hand that fed ye.” other side, sure as life there wasa whole troop of |“ It was a pity,” replied the bocher (for my readers have doubtless discovered that Larry and Hacket are ene aud the same person), while a cold sareastie smile overshadywed the usually yood-natured expression of his countenance, “a

* What ave ye alter (’ says the judge. * Piaze yer

that the daring rascal, Fieney ia over the water, | with firearms, and combustibles, and contr | aurderin’ pity that ye didn’t th.uk of that when vances enough to blow up ould Ireland, and mur- ye ye had the littl row.” He would have der it entirely : and that he wants to get to this said, “ when ye struck him te the earth; buat in side, and waylay and destroy every mother’s son | the dim light be marked James Freney’s eye at the "sizes; ee we're going to step him.’ ‘God | flashing upen bim, ard he finished his sentence, less ye for Chat same !’ said the ould crathur of a modified even as it was, ia a trembling voice. man, setting hie breome on his baste at the same} The unhappy young man remained silent for a ime; Sit was only yesterday that the rapparee | few moments, while the rapidity of his pace in- took every fardio’ 1 had in the world—and only |ereased At length Hacket ventured to observe left me these fe. screeds of clothes; and if he’s | chat the gang had lately been very discontented let go on that way, neither gentle ner simple will | with his liberality—partieularty to Lady Duncan- be alive in the country, this day three months’ | non, whose money he bad returned, merely be- ‘ He's | cause her husband was net with her, and even re- a good portly man to my seeing,’ made answer | fused to take her watch set with diainonds, which the ould erathur, ‘ Middling-sized — middiing-! they considered robbing them of lawful plunder. sized,” repeated the sargent, stepping into the |‘ Ay,” he said, mourniully, “itis ever thus: as voat; ‘1'd know him ten miles off, if the devil | well migh’ the lordly lion, that I have read of, himself set him a smoking.” The ould man vave | mate with the base-born ass, that brays at the a cbuck of a laugh, and off wid him, atter making | moon, 38 one of gentle breeding assimilate with his obedience, mannerly, to the great gentlemen | such a set—but | am a fool to talk thua to you, —and the beat and the soldiers towed away for | Hacket—and worse than a fool to have chosen the other side; aud the judge and grandees ya- | such a life; but the die is east, and [ am a dread. |thered themselves up, quite shyish-like, on the | ed, degraded outlaw, whose iniserable bones will,

aud, somehow, my hight (though 1 made a screen tor it, with a cabbage leat), went out just at the winute I thought o’ fodderin’ the cow, the era. thur, that the boys don’t balf mind; so, kuowiu’ she doesn't like to be ‘woke of a suddeut, 1 went asy to the door, and jist as | was going to pull out the kipeen (not that the door’? much good, on ac count of the gap i the wall), | bard Breen in low discourse with anotber mau, that [’'d no know- ledge of in lite: and he went on for to tell bim hew unreasonable ye war’ in regard o' takin’ a turn out o’ the ould gentleman's money ; and how he wouldn’t listen to no such thing—but purtend to you, whin It was all over, that it was nothin’ bul a misunderstandin , and down-tace the becker that be said one thing, when, to the hearin’ of my own two eurs, the poor thing sald the direct contrary.”

* The villian !—the double-dealing mean-spirit- ed villian !" ejaculated Freney.

“Ye may say Uhat,’”’ responded Nelly, “ but wait a while till ye knew all. ‘fm sartin, says Uotber man, ‘ that the captain ‘ll take te the read after them, by the way of purtection, for be has a suspicion over you, When anything like this is stirriu’; and ye kuow there’s not one o the boys ‘ad disobey the captain.” ‘Im sure he's fer the road,’ says Breen, ‘ for Hacket tould me Beet stakes Was in the saine cow-shed, at the back,as my Slasber ; and more betokens,at the reght-hand side. ‘And a noble pair o° bastes they are,’ remarks tother; ‘ but Beetstakes is terrible knowin’, aud sorra a harm it would be to put a peg to his speed for to night.” ‘What do you meau!’ says Breen ‘ Bathershin,’ makes answer the strange man, ‘you don’t know; why, just run a nail up the fetlock ; eure it’s only an accideut, aud nobody the wiser.’ ”

“The eold-blooded seoundrel!’ muttered the captain between his firmly-set teeth, * the noble horse that has 80 often saved my life!”

“ Well, they coshered, and coshered, so asy. 1 couldn't make out the words,” persisted Neily, “only the short and the long of it was, that the stranger was to go and lame the beast at once ; and, they couldn't get the annuals out while the sarvents were about the house, jist wait till they were gone, and then, takin’ the sport road to the black gap, wait there for the company. May-be ye think ye have it all yer own way, says 1; put better than you Dave got into the wrong box. So

| horses that were waitin’ tor them — and, by the | time they were settled, from the top almost of the | hill that ye tind is so overgrown with osiers, aud

one of these days, rattle en a gibbet, in the Mareh winds and seorch there in a July sun—while you —you, Hacket— wy poor mother’s only relation,