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MARY LEE; 
 
 THE YANKEE IN IKELAND 
 
 BY 
 
 PAUL PEPPERGRASS, ESQ. 
 
 AUTHOR OF “ SHANDY M'GUIKE,” 
 
 “ THE SP^WIFE,” ETC. 
 
 BOSTON: 
 
 PATRICK DONA HOE 
 
 ' Boylston Street. 
 
Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1859, 
 
 By kelly, HEDIAN & PIET, 
 
 In the Clerk’s Office of the District Court of the State of Maryland. 
 
 Elcctrotyped at the Boston Stereotype Foundry, 
 No. 19 Spring Lane. 
 
XjN6o / irr PTd rJ 
 
 
 TO THE PUBLIC. 
 
 Dear Public : Once more come we, knocking at your 
 door, to beg the crumbs of your charity. 
 
 Twice before, indeed, have you taken us in, and twice, 
 going out, have our grateful tears besprinkled the flags 
 of your threshold. But then it was our own cause we 
 pleaded ; now we plead the cause of another ; we bring 
 to your arms a desolate orphan, not three days old, and 
 without a relative in the world. Its dying parent be- 
 queathed it to you, in the strong hope, that slender as 
 its claim was on your sympathy, you would not have the 
 heart to reject it. After the many favors we ourselves 
 have received at your hands, it would be indelicate in us 
 to do more than submit the case without word or com- 
 ment to your benevolent consideration. The following 
 rj letters will best explain the melancholy circumstances 
 which brought the little adventurer to employ so poor an 
 ^ advocate, and one, alas 1 in every respect, so unworthy 
 ^ the sacred trust. 
 
 ^ Your grateful servant, 
 
 P. Peppergrass. 
 
 ■ 'r 'voyages by land and sea, here I am 
 
 mv 1 ® ^ pallet in Gooseberry Lane, with 
 
 mffnUhfT C ’ r** “y pillow. 
 
 ul, my faithful college chum, what a desperate effort I made to 
 
 3 
 
4 
 
 TO THE PUBLIC. 
 
 reach you ! Somehow I always fancied, if I could only have another sight 
 of your honest, “ sonsie face, and the promise of a quiet little corner in 
 3^our family grave lot, I should die the happier. Besides, as I never be- 
 longed to any one in particular, I felt you had a sort of claim on m3" re- 
 mains. But it’s all over with me now, and so God’s will be done ! I’m 
 a crazy, good-for-nothing, ill-tempered creature, any way, and the sooner 
 I’m put out of the way of decent, useful people, the better. I suppose I 
 needn’t tell you what I’m dying of — the rheumatism, of course: what 
 else could it be ? The villain knocked me down twice before, you remem- 
 ber, and then compromised it ; but this time he has fairly got death’s grip 
 of me, and refuses, point blank, to let me off on any terms. The priest 
 and doctor were both here this morning, and shook hands with me at 
 parting. So my time, you see, is but short. Well, at all events I’m pre- 
 pared — that is, in a kind of fashion, not so well as I ought of course, but 
 still better than I deserve to be, considering the Edie Ochiltree life I led 
 since I abandoned theology and the cassock. As for the world, I forgive 
 it for all the shaby treatment I ever received at its hands, and upon my 
 word, Paul, I received my share. It’s of no use, though, to carry our 
 grudges with us to the grave ; and, indeed, even if it were, I never felt 
 much disposed that way. Besides, the world has sins enough to answer 
 for, God knows, without adding the injuries it has done me to the account. 
 So I shake hands, and forgive it. And now, Paul, there’s one request I 
 have to make, and for the sake of the old times, I hope you’ll not refuse it, 
 namely : When you come here and find me dead and gone, don’t mind 
 asking any questions, for nobody knows me but as the lame pilgrim, who 
 frightened the children, and lived in a garret in Gooseberry Lane. Say 
 nothings but just ask the apple woman, who lets me the room, for the 
 black leather bag I kept under my pillow. Put your hand down to the 
 bottom, and draw out “ Mary Lee.” It’s the last of the collection, and, 
 for aught I know to the contrary, the best of them all. Take it home 
 with you, brush it up a little, and give it to some charitable publisher, if 
 you happen to know or hear of any such person in that part of the world. 
 Should the little thing bring a few dollars, buy me a modest head-stone of 
 gray marble and inscribe my name on the corner — Peter Pinkie — no 
 more. For the rest, I bequeath you all my worldly goods, to wit : my sil- 
 ver snuff-box (but by the way, now that I think of it, the half of that same 
 belongs to you already) and my ivory-headed crab-tree staff, both which 
 Father Mahony (by the same token he’s first cousin to Father Prout of 
 the Prout Papers) will deliver you on presenting this letter. And now, 
 dear Paul, before I bid good by, let me entreat you to say a few prayers for 
 me, once and again, when you haye leisure — for alas ! alas ! I need them 
 sadly. Say them quietly, just as we used to say them together long ago 
 at the Virgin altar in the college chapel, and say them away by yourself 
 in some lonelv corner of the church, where the shadow falls deepest. 
 God be with you, Paul. 
 
 Yours as ever. 
 
 P. Pinkie. 
 
TO THE PUBLIC. 
 
 6 
 
 On reaching New Orleans we hastened with all possible 
 speed to Gooseberry Lane, hoping to find our venerable 
 friend still alive ; but alas ! we came too late. Early that 
 morning the remains of a stranger whom nobody knew, 
 but who went by the name of Peter Pinkie, were carried 
 out to their final resting place, and deposited in a shady* 
 little corner of the Catholic cemetery. Intend to visiting 
 the grave next day, and leave directions for the head- 
 stone of gray marble, we took occasion in the interval to 
 call on the Rev. Mr. Mahony, and after tendering our 
 most grateful thanks for his kindness to our dear old 
 friend and fellow-student, received from his venerable 
 hands the silver snuff-box, the crab-tree staff, and the fol- 
 lowing letter of explanation, written apparently but a 
 few hours before his death. p p 
 
 Dear Paul : I have some remarks to make about “ Mary Lee,” and 
 can’t compose myself to die happy without making them. So I just 
 swallowed an anodyne, and had the apple woman fix up the foot-board 
 for a writing desk. 
 
 I know well when you read the opening paragraph you’ll shrug up 
 your shoulders in the old way, and pitch the manuscript across the table 
 to your friend Dr. Grippinlip, with a “ psaugh ! nonsense ! what does the 
 silly fellow mean by such an introduction as that ? ” But think what you 
 please, Paul ; I can’t help it. It was always my way, you know, to go 
 straight to the point ; or, as our first Latin master, Terence Hardiman, 
 used to say, to dive in medias res plump as a pearl fisher ! I wouldn’t think 
 of Terry now either, I suspect, only the silver snuff-box he left us is here 
 before me on the foot-board, and the curly-headed cobbler on the lid is 
 looking straight in my face. But independently of that, my early memo- 
 ries crowd on me now faster and clearer than ever. Sometimes I catch 
 myself thinking of old Sangrado at the college, and old Etty at the infir- 
 mary coming in coughing every morning, with her pharmacopoeia under 
 her arm. And what do you think ? I was dreaming all last night about the 
 rush crosses we used to weave at Michaelmas, and the sedging boats we 
 sailed in partnership on the round pond before my father’s door. They 
 looked to me just as green and natural as the leaves I sa w yesterday. I don’t 
 know how it happens, but my thoughts are ever stumbling over old times 
 and old places ; do what I will, I can’t control them. I half suspect it’s the 
 
6 
 
 TO THE PUBLIC. 
 
 usual sign of death — the parting look which the spirit casts back on the 
 opening scenes of its young and joyous life, ere it sinks and is swallowed 
 up forever in the source of its being — just like the setting sun taking his 
 farewell look of earth — the last one, the brightest and fondest of all. But 
 I fear I’m digressing. 
 
 I was going to observe that if you expected me to write a preface to 
 ** Mary Lee ” according to the ordinary standards made and provided, you 
 will be entirely disappointed ; for I may as well tell you, first as last, I feel 
 'that I cherish a most inveterate horror for the whole prolegomena family — 
 prefaces, prologues, introductions, and explanations; and this, in duty 
 bound to tell you before I proceed a step farther, has ever been my unfor- 
 tunate weakness since I went to study theology, five and twenty years ago, 
 at Louvain, under the celebrated Father Brenengo. He was the most te- 
 dious man in coming to a point that ever shaped a syllogism. He often 
 spent two mortal hours laying down the state of the question, and found 
 himself then just as far from the difficulty as ever. Every thing having 
 the slightest fibre of connection with the subject was drawn in to complicate 
 it. No chancery lawyer could hold a candle to him in that respect. Old 
 as I am now, Paul, an(^ near as I creep to the grave, the sound of that 
 man’s voice rings as distinctly in my ear as when I last sat listening to it 
 in Louvain. I never catch the noise of a spinning wheel, or a moth 
 ticking in the bed-post; but I hear Father Brenengo as plainly as ever. 
 He never tired ; there was nothing of him to tire but bone and sinew, and 
 very little of that to spare either; but what did remain was brought by a 
 practice of forty years to work like machinery. Talking was no trouble 
 to him — the words rolled out from his thin lips like sounds from an autom- 
 aton mandarin. On the occasion, however, to which I would particularly 
 refer, the question before the class was, the Sacrifice of Abraham, and the 
 difficulty as usual in the Thomistic distinction of the divine wills. Never 
 did man speak as he spoke that day, laying down his preliminaries, and 
 yet never venturing within sight of the question at issue. The class fell 
 asleep, but,^arwm refert, on he drove through it, shrugging his shoul- 
 ders till you could almost hear the friction of the bones, and rapping the 
 desk all the while with’ his terrible knuckles. For the first hour I bore it 
 with patience ; an hour and a half passed, and still, though my nerves 
 were considerably excited, I managed to control them sufficiently to sit 
 quiet. At last, however, I was overpowered by a sort of delirium ; my 
 head grew dizzy, my breath came thick and short, like one after a long 
 race, and, yelling like a maniac, I sprang at one bound across the desk, 
 and hurled a quarto volume of Bellarmine at the lecturer’s venerable head. 
 “ Hold him ! ” I cried ; “ hold him ! stop him or he’ll kill me, he’ll murder 
 me ! ” His squeaking voice acting like a rasp on my nerves, hour after 
 hour, drove me, in fact, to desperation. Heaven forgive me, Paul, I could 
 have cloven him that instant to the brisket. One of my classmates laid hold 
 of my collar to drag me back, but I flung him from me as I wonld an in- 
 fant, and rushing from the hall, fled, down the corridor, my long hair float- 
 ing back on my collar, and my eyes leaping from their sockets in my 
 
TO THE PUBLIC. 
 
 7 
 
 eagerness to escape. That act of mine, dear Paul, sealed my fate forever. 
 In the evening the physician called at my room, and politely ordered 
 me three tumblers of valerian to settle my nerves ; next day the dean 
 handed me forty dollars to pay my travelling expenses to Buncrana, and 
 a letter of explanation to my worthy bishop ; and in two hours after, just 
 as the bells of the city rang out the Angelus, I bid adieu to Louvain, Fa- 
 ther Brenengo, and theology forever. Since that unfortunate day, it’s 
 needless to tell you, I regard every thing in the shape of introductions with 
 indescribable horror. And where’s the wonder ? Have they not, at one 
 blow, annihilated all my cherished hopes, stripped me of stole and cassock, 
 driven me out a wanderer on the face of the earth, and consigned me at 
 last to isolation, snuff-taking, poverty, and a garret ? 
 
 Here the manuscript grows so shaky, owing, no doubt, 
 to the increasing violence of the rheumatism, as to be en- 
 tirely illegible. It is generally supposed, however, by 
 his friends in Ireland most familiar with his handwriting, 
 that the closing sentences were meant for a humble 
 apology to the public for having ever presumed to occu- 
 py a moment of its valuable time, and especially for the 
 many faults and anachronisms in Mary Lee. 
 
 The following note was found, some days after the ed- 
 itor's departure, in a corner of the old black bag, and 
 carefully forwarded to his address by the apple woman 
 above mentioned. In her very remarkable epistle enclos- 
 ing the relic, she candidly admits never having imagined 
 for one moment that the bit o’ ritin ” could be of any 
 earthly use to any body, and as for his spirit ” coming 
 back in search of it, she hadn’t the least fear of that in 
 the world ; for the truth was, she didn’t believe in ghosts 
 herself, nor one belonging to her ; but still every body 
 had a right to their own, and besides, Mr. Pinkie being 
 the strange kind of man he was, she didn’t fancy much 
 retaining any part of his property in her possession, and 
 would just sleep as sound, perhaps, after clearing her 
 skirts of him, bag and baggage. The note ran as 
 follows : — 
 
8 
 
 TO THE PUBLIC 
 
 POSTSCRIPT. 
 
 As my time draws near, I begin to feel more and more uneasy about the 
 spot where the strangers will lay my remains. Of course you’ll laugh at 
 me for this, Paul, and no wonder either, for upon my word I never once 
 thought I should feel so particular about it. But it’s only another proof, 
 I suppose, that the poor body must always be our greatest trouble even to 
 the very last. And so I made some inquiries about the burial ground this 
 morning of Father Mahony’s clerk. His description, I assure you, is by 
 no means satisfactory. He tells me there’s not an ivy wall, nor a moulder- 
 ing ruin, nor an old hawthorn, nor in fact any other shred of Christianity, 
 to be seen in the place — what’s more, there’s not a fern to shelter a grave, 
 and even the grass of the field is as wiry and sparse as the hair on my 
 head. By all accounts, dear Paul, it’s a very uncomfortable and “ unchris- 
 tianable ” place to be buried, and so I would take it as a great personal 
 favor, and one I’ll not forget in the land I’m going to, if you could just 
 manage in some way to take my bones home with you to your own quiet 
 lot, or, what would please me a thousand times better, send them back to 
 Ireland again by the first trusty Innishowen man you hear of returning 
 to Buncrana. But do as you will, bring them or send them ; I bequeath 
 them to you. 
 
 P. P. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER I, 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Introductory, 
 
 CHAPTER IL 
 
 Is in a slight Degree illustrative of Incidents in Irish Life, . . 20 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 Mr. Weeks tries his Hand at Fly-fishing, but finds the Sport 
 rather below his Expectations. — Lanty Hanlon looks on, and 
 indulges in most indignant Criticisms on Mr. Weeks’s Manner 
 of playing the Fish, 23 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Lanty’s Propensities. — Weeks introduces himself into the 
 Lighthouse. — Finds the Keeper engaged shooting Holland 
 Hawks. — Takes a Crack at one himself. — Assures the 
 Keeper Yankee Boys can hit Swallows with a Rifle Ball. — 
 Recommends the Importation of Yankee Lecturers to 
 smarten the Irish Nation, 36 
 
 CHAPTER Y. 
 
 Mr. Weeks is introduced to Captain Tom Petersham, and is in- 
 vited by that Gentleman to spend a Day at Castle Gregory. — 
 
 He also has the good Luck to catch a Glimpse of Mary Lee, . 58 
 
 9 
 
10 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Uncle Jerry. — His Character. — The Shipwreck at Ballyhernan, 74 
 
 CHAPTER YII. 
 
 Mr. Weeks begins to think Ireland not so very green a Country 
 after all, and rather unsafe for Matrimonial Speculations, . . 95 
 
 CHAPTER YIH. 
 
 Lanty acknowledges his Weakness for Fishing and Field Sports, 
 but thinks Father Brennan’s Table nothing the worse for that. 
 
 — Dr. Henshaw is suddenly presented to the Reader, and 
 Uncle Jerry discovered in the Bottom of a Boat, supporting 
 the Negro with the broken Toes, 110 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Being the shortest Chapter in the Book, is devoted exclusively 
 to Mr. Weeks, 122 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 The Outlaw’s Interview with Else Curley. — Her Hatred of the 
 Hardwrinkles, and its Cause. — Barry evades the detective 
 Officers, 125 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 Weeks thinks himself very ill treated, and the Irish the most 
 savage, beggarly “Varmint in all Creation.” — He is con- 
 ducted to a Wedding, and having taken a Glass or two, under 
 Protest, dances an Irish Jig, to the great Delight of the 
 Company, 141 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 Kate Petersham at Castle Gregory. — Dr. Henshaw’s Catho- 
 licity proves rather strong both for Kate and the Priest. — The 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 11 
 
 Doctor, like Mr. Weeks, forms a very bad Opinion of Ireland 
 and its Inhabitants. — Lanty plays an Irish Trick. — Its Con- 
 sequences, 159 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 Dr. Henshaw’s Pride is deeply wounded. — To betaken for a 
 Burglar, and treated as a Burglar, is more than he felt pre- 
 pared to put up with. — Captain Petersham apologizes for his 
 Blunder, but to no Purpose, -177 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 Kate and Else at the Bedside of the Cabin Boy. — Else begins 
 to suspect the little Fellow will yet unravel a Mystery. — A 
 Visit from Kate Petersham, who receives a Letter from Lanty 
 Hanlon, announcing Randall Barry’s Arrest, 187 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 Weeks begins to develop himself. — The Hardwrinkles. — Rob- 
 ert Hardwrinkle’s ultimate Designs on Mary Lee. — Visit 
 from Constabulary Officer, 199 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 Reflection on an Irish Churchyard. — Miss Rebecca and her 
 Cousin Weeks. — Piety and Infidelity, 220 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 Weeks visits Mrs. Motherly.. — A Conversation on Slavery. — 
 Weeks seems rather disagreeably surprised to meet an old 
 Acquaintance in Uncle Jerry’s Negro, 229 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 Mr. Weeks treats himself to a Ride on a Rathlin Pony. — Its 
 Consequences. — ^^Kate takes him with her to Castle Gregory, 238 
 
12 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 Uncle Jerry and the “Three Twins.” — A Surprise, 249 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 Mr. Weeks professes Washingtonian Principles, but is induced, 
 notwithstanding, to taste Whiskey Punch. — Its wonderful 
 Effects, 255 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 Mr. Weeks grows eloquent after the second Tumbler, and 
 makes a crack Speech, but declines a Duel with the Light- 
 
 keeper as not being in his line, 265 
 
 CHAPTER XXIL 
 
 Else and Mary. — The Solitary and her Foster-child, 281 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 Lanty takes the Loan of Miss Hardwrinkle, and carries her off 
 on a Pillion. — Else feels certain she has discovered a Clew 
 to the Mystery, 289 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 Uncle Jerry and Mrs. Motherly quarrel, and the Captain sug- 
 gests a Means of Reconciliation, 298 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 Mrs. Motherly, before quitting the House forever, wishes to 
 leave some Directions about her Master’s Flannels. — Mr. 
 Guirkie, in the mean time, sheds Tears over the Portrait of 
 Mary’s Mother. — His first Love and his last, 306 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 The Priest and Dr. Henshaw. — The Influence of Catholicity. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 13 
 
 — Its attractive and repulsive Features. — The Priest's Gar- 
 den and the old Tombstone, 317 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 Eandall Barry's Trial. — Kate Petersham on Moll Pitcher. — 
 
 She balks, but facing the Wall a second Time, clears it. — The 
 Negro on the Witness Stand. — Else Curley comforts Kobert 
 Hardwrinkle, 328 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 Trial continued. — Else charges Hardwrinkle with Conspiracy 
 to carry off Mary Lee. — She proves William Talbot, Mary’s 
 Father, to be still living, by Means of the Rosary found on 
 the Person of the Cabin Boy. — Mary's Feelings overpower 
 her on hearing the Announcement. — The Rescue of the 
 Rebel. — The Riot. — Hardwrinkle's Death, 344 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 Weeks escapes in the Riot. — Is pursued by a Constable. — 
 Climbs over a Wall, leaving his Coat-tail behind him in the 
 Constable’s Hands, and finally disappears. — Else takes her 
 Leave, and retires to Benraven Mountain, there to pass the 
 Remainder of her Life. — Lanty Hanlon, in the Dress of an 
 old Woman, winds up the Story. — Postscript, which is 
 Characteristic of the Author of the Preface, terminates the 
 Story in manner similar to that in which it began, 379 
 
MART LEE 
 
 CHAPTEK I. 
 
 Introductory. 
 
 Dear reader, have the goodness to run your finger 
 down the map of Ireland to its northernmost point, or, if 
 that be inconvenient, let your imagination run down 
 without it to the easternmost promontory of the County 
 Donegal ; you shall then have transported yourself with- 
 out trouble or expense, and in a manner suitable enough 
 for our purpose, to the spot where our story commences. 
 
 It may happen, however, in this rambling age, that one 
 day or other you would grow tired of travelling by the 
 map and hand-book, and make up your mind to quit the 
 fireside and see the world for yourself — preferring your 
 own eyes to your neighbors^ spectacles. After a long 
 tour through Europe you may yet, some fine evening in 
 August or September, find yourself standing on the pier 
 of Leith or Dunbarton heights, looking across the channel, 
 and wishing you were in Ireland. Don^t resist the temp- 
 tation, we pray thee, but leaving your national prejudices 
 behind you with your Scotch landlord, book yourself for 
 Dublin, in the first packet, and with a good conscience 
 and an honest heart take a trip over the water, and visit, 
 were it only for a week, the land of poverty, gallantry, 
 and song. 
 
 If, however, you happen to be one of those very re- 
 spectable young gentlemen who go over to make pic- 
 tures of Irish life, with the view of being stared at and 
 lionized in village drawing-rooms on their return — one 
 of those extremely talented and promising young men, 
 
 15 
 
16 
 
 MAEY LEE, OR 
 
 who voyage in crowds every year, for a supply of Irish 
 barbarisms and Romish superstitions, — if you happen, we 
 say, to be of that class, let us remind you, dear reader, 
 that the Mull of Cantyre is a dangerous sea, worse by all 
 odds than the Bay of Biscay. Don’t venture through it 
 by any means, but like a prudent young man, finish your 
 tour with Ben Lomond and the Trosachs, and return 
 home to the States with as little delay as possible. As 
 for the Irish peculiarities you would go in quest of, they 
 are now very scarce and difficult to procure — we mean 
 fresh ones, of course, for the old sets are bruised so much 
 in the handling as to be entirely valueless ; even the 
 manufacturers of the article, who made so jolly a living 
 on the simplicity of stripling tourists twenty years ago, 
 are no longer in existence. They have passed away as 
 an effete race, and are now dead, gone, and forgotten. 
 Pictures of Irish life are indeed very difficult to dispose 
 of, at present, either to the pulpit, the Sunday newspa- 
 pers, or even the Foreign Benevolent Societies, unless 
 they happen to be drawn by master hands. Such pic- 
 tures, for instance, as the Priest and the Bottle,” the 
 Fiddler and the Beggars,” the Confessor and the 
 Nun,” have lost all point, since Mr. Thackeray’s visit to 
 that country, and are now grown as stale and fiat as 
 small beer drippings off a pot-house counter. Twenty 
 years ago, however, the case was very different. An 
 Irishman then, in certain sections of the United States, 
 was as great a wonder as a Bengal tiger, or an Abyssin- 
 ian elephant ; and he felt so far below the ordinary 
 standard of humanity in those days, as to be considered 
 unaccountable to human laws. We have ourselves been 
 assured, on most excellent authority, that certain ladies 
 of Maine, even within the time mentioned, actually went 
 as a delegation to an unfortunate Irishman, who strayed 
 into their neighborhood, and set about manipulating his 
 head all over, in order to ascertain, by personal inspec- 
 tion, whether his horns grew on the fore or hind part 
 of his cranium. The manner of their reception, by the 
 courteous and gallant barbarian, is still related by some 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 17 
 
 of the actors in the little melo-drama, and though quite 
 characteristic of his race, would hardly be accounted 
 edifying in this simple narrative. This much, however, 
 we may venture to affirm, that since the event took 
 place, there has been but one opinion on the subject in 
 that locality — that the Irish wear no horns of any de- 
 scription whatever, either behind or before — are en- 
 dowed with the ordinary feelings and senses peculiar to 
 the human family — and exhibit arms and legs, hands 
 and hair, precisely like their Norman and Anglo-Saxon 
 neighbors. 
 
 But whilst they assimilate thus in all their physical 
 developments, there are still certain national peculiarities 
 which distinguish them from the people of all other 
 nations. In the first place, the brogue is very peculiar. 
 It differs from that of the Scotch Highlander, the Ver- 
 monter, and the German, in what is called intensity of 
 accentuation — and it is very remarkable that this pecu- 
 liar intensity of accentuation is most striking when they 
 speak on subjects in any way connected with religion — - 
 the broad sound of the vowels, which they have still re- 
 tained since their old classic days, exhibiting a striking 
 contrast with the reformed method of pronunciation. 
 The collocation of their words, too, sounding so strange 
 to unclassic ears, — though admirable in the Italian and 
 French, — contributes perhaps in some degree to aggra- 
 vate the barbarism. But we must not venture on details, 
 or we should never have done ; suffice it to say, that 
 according to all accounts, and particularly the accounts 
 of American tourists, the Irish are, one and all, the 
 strangest people on the face of the earth. They never 
 do anything, we are told, like other people. Whatever 
 they put their hands to, from peeling a potato to shoot- 
 ing a landlord, they have their own peculiar way of doing 
 it. Whether they eat or drink, walk or sleep, tie their 
 shoes or pick their teeth, they are noted for their won- 
 derful originality. And it is not the people only, but, 
 strange to say, the very cows and horses in that remark- 
 able country bellow and neigh quite differently from 
 2 * 
 
18 
 
 MAllY LEE, OR 
 
 those of other nations — the tone and style being quite 
 unique, or, in other words, '' peculiarly Irish/^ It^s but 
 a few weeks ago since a certain Mr. Gustavus Theodore 
 Simpkings, of Boston, returned from Ireland with the 
 startling discovery that hens laid their eggs there in a 
 manner quite different from that adopted by the hens of 
 other countries. We may be allowed also to add, by 
 way of appendix to the fact, that in consequence of the 
 important nature of the discovery, a board of commis- 
 sioners will shortly be sent over to investigate the mat- 
 ter, in order that the poultry fanciers of New England 
 may take measures accordingly to promote the interests 
 of their excellent associations. Whether the country at 
 large, however, will approve this new method is still a 
 disputed question. Our own opinion is, the New Eng- 
 landers will reject it, not solely because it^s Irish, though 
 that indeed would seem reason sufficient, but rather on 
 account of the danger of propagating Popery in that 
 peculiar way. We have heard of treason eggs (Mr. 
 OTonnell and Marcus Costello were arrested over two 
 pair of them in Hornets Coffee Room, Dublin, five and 
 twenty years ago, avowing their guilt), and if treason 
 could be propagated in that fashion, we ask, why not 
 Popery ? 
 
 Now, after all this nicety to which certain things are 
 carried, simply because they are Irish, it is quite needless 
 to say that the national peculiarities of that people are all 
 but exhausted, and consequently the young tourist fresh 
 from the counting-room can expect little there to requite 
 him for the fatigue and expense of such a journey. 
 
 But, dear reader mine, if your heart be in the right 
 place and above the reach of paltry prejudice, if you be 
 man enough to think for yourself, and instead of viewing 
 Ireland in print-shop and pantomime, look at her face to 
 face with your own honest eyes, — if you be deter- 
 mined to see things in their true colors and to avoid the 
 vulgar blunder of mistaking the Irish brogue for inveter- 
 ate barbarism, and gold watch chains for genuine civili- 
 zation, — if you be one of that stamp, — then in Ileav- 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 19 
 
 ea’s name step aboard as soon as possible, for a crime it 
 would be against your conscience to turn back within 
 sight of the green old isle where Moore and Griffin wept 
 and sang/^ 
 
 Once there, pass not hurriedly over it, for every inch is 
 classic ground. Not a mountain or valley from Cape 
 Clear to the Giant^s Causeway but has its old tradition. 
 If you ever read Banim or Morgan, Callinan or Griffin, 
 ask the guide at your elbow to point out, as you ride 
 along, the scenes they describe and the monuments they 
 chronicle. If you ever listened to the songs of Moore, 
 and felt the sadness they inspire, stop for a moment and 
 gaze on the venerable ruins to which they are consecrat- 
 ed, and they will seem to you more sad and plaintive 
 than ever. You may not weep over those mouldering 
 walls and ruined shrines, like the returning exile revisit- 
 ing once more the haunts of his boyhood, but still, 
 stranger as you are, the very sight of them will do you 
 good ; the tottering tower, and the crumbling wall, and 
 the holy well, and the broken cross, will bring you salu- 
 tary reflections — will teach you that every country, to 
 deserve a place in the record of nations, must have a 
 past, and that, flourishing as the republic of Washington 
 is now, its whole history up to this hour would hardly 
 cover a single page in the future annals of the world. 
 
 But, dear reader, whenever you ramble through the 
 old place, forget not to visit the scene of our story. It 
 may not be so grand as the Alleghanies, nor so pictur- 
 esque as the Hudson ; but it will repay you well, never- 
 theless, for your trouble. Moreover, it lies directly’' in 
 your way from the mountains of the west to the famous 
 Giant^s Causeway — a wild, solitary spot to the east of 
 those blue hills that shelter the fertile valleys of Done- 
 gal from the storms of the Northern Ocean. 
 
20 
 
 MAKY LEE, OPw 
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 Is in a slight Degree illusti'ative of Incidents in Irish Life. 
 
 The country between Fanit or Araheera lighthouse and 
 the village of Rathmullen, on the Lough Swilly, is an 
 extremely wild and mountainous district, being indeed 
 little more than a succession of hills rising one above the 
 other, and terminating at last in the bald and towering 
 scalp of Benraven. Standing on this elevated spot, the 
 traveller has a full view of the country for a distance of 
 some twenty miles around. Beyond Araheera Point 
 appears Malin Head, the northern extremity of the far- 
 famed barony of Innishowen, running far out into the 
 ocean, and heaving back the billows in white foam, as 
 they break against his dark and sulky form. Westward 
 looms up the majestic brow of Horn Head, under whose 
 frown a thousand vessels have perished, and close by its 
 side the famous opening in the rock called McSwine^s 
 Gun, thundering like the roar of a hundred cannon when 
 the storm comes in from the west. Between these two 
 landmarks, standing out there like huge sentinels guard- 
 ing the coast, stretches the long white shore called Bal- 
 lyhernam Strand, and between that and Benraven, the 
 beautiful quiet little sea of Mulroy, with its countless 
 islets lying under the long, deep shadows of the moun- 
 tains. Close by the broad base of the latter — so close 
 indeed that you can hurl a stone from the top into the 
 water below — is the calm, quiet lake called Lough Ely, 
 so celebrated for its silvery char and golden trout. As 
 the traveller looks down from the summit of Benraven, 
 there is hardly a sign of human habitation to be seen 
 below, if, indeed, we except the lighthouse itself, whose 
 white tower rises just visible over the heads of the les- 
 sening hills. But when he begins to descend and pur- 
 sue his way along the manor road, winding as it runs 
 through the dark and deep recesses of the mountains. 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 21 
 
 many a comfortable little homestead suddenly meets his 
 view, and many a green meadow and wavy cornfield helps 
 to relieve the barren and desolate character of the sur- 
 rounding scene. 
 
 It was a fine evening in June, 185- ; the sheep, after 
 browsing all day long, were lying on the green, sunny 
 slopes of the glens, and the hoodie crows, after their 
 rambling flight, sat dozing here and there on huge rocks 
 by the road-side, which the winter torrents had de- 
 tached from the mountains, when a man might be seen 
 wending his way slowly down the road towards Araheera 
 lighthouse. He wore a short jacket and trousers, some- 
 what sailor fashion, and kept his hands thrust into his 
 side pockets as he jogged along, whistling and singing 
 by turns to keep himself company. Still, though he 
 looked at first not unlike a seafaring man, there was that 
 in his gait and general deportment which smacked too 
 strongly of the hill-side, to mistake him for one accus- 
 tomed to walk the deck of a ship, or even to ply the oar 
 in search of a livelihood. Moreover, he wore a rabbit- 
 skin cap jantily set on the side of his head, and carried a 
 stout blackthorn under his arm — both which indicated 
 clearly enough that his habits of life were more landward 
 grown than his dress and near proximity to the sea might 
 have at first suggested. But whatever might have been 
 his occupation in general, he appeared to have little to 
 engage him this evening, in particular, for he loitered 
 long on his way, seemingly quite disposed to take the 
 world easy, and break no bones in his hurry to accom- 
 plish his journey. More than once did he stop to clap 
 his hands and gaze after a hare startled from her form by 
 his noisy approach, or fling a stone at a hoodie crow 
 dozing on the rocks. In this careless manner he jogged 
 along, whistling and singing as the humor touched him. 
 At first the words of his song were confused by the 
 echoes of the glens, but grew more distinct and intelligi- 
 ble as he descended nearer to the shore, till at length 
 the following verse of a very popular ditty rang out 
 clear and strong upon the ear : — 
 
22 
 
 MARY LEE, OR 
 
 “ Och ! the Sassanach villains — de’il tare them ! — 
 
 They stripped us as bare as the ‘ poles ; * 
 
 But there’s one thing we just couldn’t spare them — 
 
 The ‘ Kidug ’ that covers our souls. 
 
 Right folderolol, la la, di di, 
 
 Right fala la, lee,” &c., &c. 
 
 He sang this verse at least half a dozen times, at dif- 
 ferent intervals, and had just commenced to sing it once 
 more, when all of a sudden the song and the singer 
 came both to a full stop. Had a highwayman leaped 
 from a hedge and held a pistol to the traveller's head, he 
 could not have halted more abruptly. In an instant he 
 stood still, gazing at something he saw round the angle 
 of the road, and then buttoning his jacket and clutching 
 his blackthorn, made a step forward in a belligerent atti- 
 tude, as if an unlooked-for enemy had appeared and 
 offered him battle. And so it was. The antagonist he 
 so suddenly encountered had taken his position in the 
 veiy middle of the road, and by his motions seemed re- 
 solved to maintain that position at every hazard. The 
 traveller, on the other hand, was by no means slow to 
 commence hostilities ; for twirling his staff, without fur- 
 ther parley he struck his adversary such a blow on the 
 sconce as might have been heard ringing sharp and hard 
 for half a mile and more along the echoing glen. That 
 blow, however, was his first and last ; for the next in- 
 stant he lay sprawling in the dust, struck down by the 
 superior force of his enemy^s weapon. Still, though 
 prostrate, he parried ofi’ the blows of his assailant with 
 remarkable adroitness, and would, in all likelihood, have 
 soon risen and fully avenged his fall, had not a third 
 party interfered to terminate the battle. The latter 
 roughly seized the staff from behind, commanded the 
 fallen man to forbear, and then, in a milder and more 
 friendly voice, bade him get up on his feet, and not lie 
 there, like a partaun. 
 
THE YANKEE IN lEELAND. 
 
 23 
 
 CH APTEE III. 
 
 Mr, Weeks tries his Hand at Fly-fishing, hut finds the Sport 
 
 rather below his Expectations, — Lanty Hanlon looks on, 
 
 and indulges in most indignant Criticisms on Mr, Weekses 
 
 Manner of playing the Fish, 
 
 Get up, Lanty, said the new comer, get up, man. 
 Why, you must be ravin mad to strike the poor witless 
 crathur that way. Sure, it^s only ould Nannie. Get 
 up, man I 
 
 ''Nannie, or grannie I ejaculated Lanty, — for so it 
 seems the traveller was named, — " Nannie or grannie, 
 he cried, turning short and shaking himself free of the 
 speaker, " she^s an ould limb o^ Satan, — ' the curse o^ 
 Cromwell on her ! ^ 
 
 " Pooh ! nonsense, man ! never mind her ; it^s only a 
 way she has.^^ 
 
 " A way she has ! bedad, thin iPs a very on civil way 
 she has ; let me tell 3^ou that. The villanous ould schamer 
 can^t let anybody pass without a quarrel. There^s that 
 Methody preacher, she pounded almost to death last week, 
 — one o^ the civilest sowls in the whole parish. What kind 
 a thratement is that, Pd like to know, for any dacent man 
 to get ; or is it neighborly in you, Else Curley, to keep 
 such a baste of a goat about yer place to murther people 
 without rhyme or raisin ? 
 
 " Musha thin, how can I help her, Lanty ? 
 
 "Kill her if ye can^t — hang her — shoot her — 
 drown her — bad luck to her, she ought to be shot long 
 ago.^^ 
 
 " Och, as for that, she ^11 soon die, any way. It^s fail- 
 ing fast she is, poor thing. 
 
 "Die!^^ repeated Lanty, brushing the dust off his 
 clothes ; " die ! sheTl niver die, and it^s a mystery to me 
 if iver she came into the world right at all.^’ 
 
24 
 
 MARY LEE, OR 
 
 Arrah, whist with yer nonsense/' exclaimed Else, 
 '' and don't talk such foolishness. Come away up to the 
 house here, and take a draw iv the pipe if you don't take 
 anything better." 
 
 I'll tell you what it is, Else Curley," continued the 
 discomfited Lanty ; there's not a man or woman in the 
 townland of Crowres but knows that my father was chased 
 by that same goat — that very identical ould rascal there, 
 the year before he was married, and that's jist thirty good 
 years ago, and more by the same token, he bears the marks 
 of her horns on a part of his body to this day ; and it's 
 no great secret either. Else, that she was every bit as 
 ould then as she's now. It's not even'n anything bad to 
 ye I am. Else, but one thing is sartin as the sun's in the 
 sky — that goat don't belong to this world." 
 
 The old woman looked sharp at her companion, as if to 
 read in his countenance his real thoughts on a subject that 
 concerned her so nearly, and about which she lately heard 
 so many unpleasant surmises, but she could gather noth- 
 ing from his looks. She saw he was excited by the fall, 
 but she knew him also to be one of the slyest rogues that 
 ever put on a sober face — as full of deviltry as an egg 
 was full of meat ; and she doubted, therefore, whether he 
 meant to plague or offend her. 
 
 '' Lanty Hanlon," said she at last, I don't know 
 whether 3^ou spoke that word in joke or in earnest ; if ye 
 spoke in joke I forgive ye, knowing well what ye are, and 
 yer father afore ye ; but if ye spoke in earnest, I tell ye 
 niver to say the word again in my bearin', for if ye do, 
 b}^ the blessed Cairn above there. I'll be revenged for it, 
 dead or alive." 
 
 Pheugh ! " exclaimed Lanty, when the old woman had 
 finished, by the powers o' war, but you'd frighten a body 
 out o' their wits this evening ! What's the matter, woman ? 
 or are you so easy vexed as that with an ould friend ? " and 
 he shook her familiarly by the arm as he spoke, and pushed 
 her on towards the cabin to which she had just invited him. 
 ''If you want to quarrel with me. Else," he continued, 
 "you must take another day for it, as at present I'm 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 25 
 
 engaged on particular business. So up with you to 
 the house there, and bring me out a coal to light my 
 pipe.^^ 
 
 Though Lanty spoke in banter, there was still something 
 in the expression of his face and tone of his voice that in- 
 dicated misgivings of Else Curley after such a show of in- 
 dignation. Not that he suspected her, for a moment, of 
 any secret connection with the nether world, nor of keep- 
 ing Nannie for any unholy purpose ; but nevertheless 
 he was accustomed to hear strange reports about her, ever 
 since he remembered to hear anything, and was taught to 
 regard her as a woman above the common, and one whose 
 anger was to be propitiated at any sacrifice. Hence, if 
 Lanty had his doubts of Else, they were doubts rather of 
 the woman than of her acts, of her capacity to work mis- 
 chief rather than of her actual guilt. In a word, he never 
 heard or saw aught of her but what was right and proper, 
 and yet somehow he always fancied she was uncanny, 
 and could be dangerous if she pleased. Perhaps the sharp, 
 thin features and large gray eyes of the tall, shrivelled old 
 creature, as she gazed steadily into Lanty ^s face, helped at 
 that moment to aggravate his suspicions. But be that as 
 it may, he lost no time in trying to conciliate her, and 
 his experience had already taught him, that his usual 
 rollicking familiarity of manner would accomplish that 
 end more effectually than any formal apology he could 
 offer. 
 
 The house or cabin to which Lanty and his companion 
 now directed their steps (Nannie still following her mis- 
 tress at a respectful distance) was built on the southern 
 side of a little green hill, called the Cairn, named af- 
 ter a pile of stones upon its summit, which tradition says 
 were thrown there to mark the spot where a priest had 
 been murdered in the troublous times of Cromwell or 
 Elizabeth. 
 
 From the top of this hill, which rises only a few rods 
 above the roof of the cabin, a full view is had of the 
 lighthouse, and Lough Ely from its eastern to its western 
 extremity. The lake, in fact, at one of its bends touches 
 3 
 
26 
 
 MAEY LEE, OE 
 
 the base of the hill, and thence stretches to the light- 
 house, a distance of little more than half a mile. 
 
 "'And now, Else, avourneen,^^ began Lanty, taking his 
 seat on a flag outside the cabin door, (for the evening 
 was warm,) ‘'now that we settled that little difference, 
 how is Batt himself, and how does the world use him ? 
 
 ‘‘ Well, indeed then, we can^t complain much as times 
 go,^^ responded Else, drawing her stocking from her 
 pocket, and beginning to knit in her usual slow, quiet 
 way ; for she was old, and her hands trembled as she 
 plied the needles. ‘‘ As for Batt, poor ould man, he^s 
 idle the most of his time, and barrin that he goes down 
 to the shore there of an evenin to ketch a trout or so for 
 the supper, it’s little else he has to throuble him.” 
 
 “ Still he gets an odd call now and then, I’ll warrant,” 
 observed Lanty, knocking the ashes from his pipe, and 
 preparing to replenish it with fresh tobacco. “ A man 
 like Batt Curley can’t want a job long if there’s any 
 goin.” 
 
 “0, he gets his share, to be sure ; but where’s the 
 benefit o’ that, when there’s nothing to be made by it ? ” 
 Well, he makes a trifle over the price o’ the tibakky 
 and the dram any way ; and what more does he want ? 
 Fiddlin’s now not what it used to be in ould times, Else.” 
 
 ‘‘ Indeed, thin, you may well say that,” she replied, 
 ‘‘when half a crown a weddin’s the highest he made this 
 twelvemonth. The Lord luck down on us, I don’na how 
 poor people can stan it at that rate.” 
 
 “It’s mighty hard,” assented Lanty, handing the old 
 woman the pipe, after wiping it on the breast of his jack- 
 et. “I mind the time myself when we cudn’t shake a 
 fut at a weddin short of a shillin apiece to the fiddler. 
 But sure the people’s hearts is broke out and out. Else 
 — why, they haven’t the courage to dance, eTen if they 
 had the mains.” 
 
 “ It’s not that, Lanty, acushla ! it’s not that, but their 
 hearts is gone out in thim althegither. They’re not the 
 same people they used to be at all at all. Nothin shutes 
 thim now sure but waltzin and pokin, and sailin over the 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 27 
 
 flare like so many childer playin cutche-cutchoo, and 
 with no more spirit in thim than so many puppets at a 
 show/^ 
 
 Bedad, it^s no wondher you say it, Else — it^s dis- 
 graceful, so it is/^ 
 
 '' Disgraceful 1 No ; but it^s a scandal to the country, 
 that^s what it is. There^s big Jamie^s daughter, of 
 Drumfad, that was married last Thursday ; and lo, and 
 behould ye, sir, when young Tom Connolly asked her 
 out, she cudn’t venture on a reel or a country dance at 
 all at all ; 0, no, no more than if she was born in the 
 skies ; let alone at the hip of Grafley Mountain/^ 
 
 '' Musha, bad luck to her impudince,^^ exclaimed Lan- 
 ty ; '' isn’t she cockin ? and her aunt beggin her bit and 
 sup through the parish.” 
 
 Feen a word o’ lie in it thin. She turned up her 
 nose at the Foxhunter’s Jig and the Rosses Batther, just 
 as if she niver heard iv the like in her born life. — and 
 nothin would do her, savin yer favor, but go skatin over 
 the room like a doll on stilts. Faith, it’s well come up 
 with the pack of thim.” 
 
 And as for poor Batt,” observed Lanty, sich tunes 
 are too new-fangled for his ould fingers. He couldn’t 
 plaze her av course ; 0, no, he’s too ould-fashioned for 
 that.” 
 
 Plaze her ! Ay indeed ; after dancing in Derry City 
 with her grand cousins, the manti-makers. Plaze her I 
 No, Pegeliny himself, the great Dublin fiddler, couldn’t 
 plaze her. But it’s the same all over the country ; a 
 man can’t show a jug and glass in his windy nowadays, 
 but his girls take airs on thimselves aqual to my Lady 
 Leitrem — all merchants’ daughters, if you plaze ; ” and 
 Else laughed a dry, hard laugh, and gave the leg of her 
 stocking another hitch under her arm. 
 
 As she was yet speaking, a stranger passed down the 
 road carrying a fishing rod in his hand, and stepping over 
 a low fence, made his way slowly to a narrow tongue of 
 land that stretched far out into Lough Ely, a spot much 
 frequented by anglers, and particularly at that season of 
 
28 
 
 MARY LEE, OR 
 
 the year. He was a man apparently about thirty years 
 of age, and wore a gray sporting frock, with cap and 
 gaiters to match. 
 
 That^s the strange gentleman,’^ said Else, that 
 comes down here from Crohan to fish so often. 
 
 I saw him before, replied Lanty ; and bedad, if 
 he knows as little about the gentleman as he does about 
 the fisherman he^s no great affair. I came across him 
 yesterday at Kindrum, and he cast his line, for all the 
 world, like a smith swinging a sledge hammer. Who is 
 he?^' 
 
 Indeed, thin, myself doesn^t know, Lanty ; but Pm 
 tould he^s come here from furrin parts for the good of 
 his health, and is some far out friend to the Hard wrinkles 
 of Crohan. 
 
 I wouldn^t doubt it in the laste, for he^s thin and 
 sneaky, like the rest of the breed. Still he may be a 
 dacent man, after all that.^^ 
 
 He^s a quate, easy-spoken man, any way, whativer 
 else he is.^^ 
 
 And plenty o’ money to spend. I’ll bail ye.’’ 
 
 In troth has he, and not a miser about it aither, 
 Lanty.” 
 
 Humph ! I see you’re acquent.” 
 
 '' Och ! ay, he draps in here sometimes when he comes 
 a fishin.” 
 
 And opens his purse when he goes out, eh. Else ? ” 
 
 0, thin, dear knows the gentleman id be welkim if 
 he niver had a purse,” replied Else. It’s not for that, 
 but the quate, raotherate way he has. He comes in just 
 like a child, and looks as modest as a lady, and sits there 
 chattin ithout a bit pride in him more nor one of our- 
 sels.” 
 
 '^Now d’ye tell me so ? He’s fond of a shanahas, I 
 see, furriner and all as he is.” 
 
 Indeed, thin he’s jist that same, Lanty ; he’s mighty 
 fond intirely of say stories, and likes to hear tell of the 
 ^ Saldana,’ how she was wracked here below, and the 
 crew, how they were all buried in one grave in the ould 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 29 
 
 churchyard in Ramulla, and about Captain Pecnam^s 
 ghost, that used to be seen on moonlight nights dressed 
 all in white with a goolden sword by his side sittin on 
 the Swilly Rock. And thin he^ll be sure to ask me some- 
 thing about Mr. Lee and his niece, and who they are, and 
 how thej^ came here, and how long since, and so on, and 
 so on, till Pm a most tired of him myself sometimes. 
 
 Humph ! Tired ! repeated Lanty ; bedad, thin he 
 must run you mighty hard. Else, for may I niver — 
 
 Hould yer whist now,^^ interrupted the old woman ; 
 I don^t want any iv yer side wipes ; and she pushed 
 him playfully away with her thin, skeleton hand. 
 
 Sure I didn^t mane the laste offence in life,^^ mut- 
 tered Lanty, leering round at his companion, and taking 
 a smack from the pipe loud enough to be heard at the 
 road below; ‘^no, but I was only jist saying that if the 
 gentleman tired you out talkin, why, he ought to be proud 
 iv it, for after talkin six covenanter ministers, besides a 
 dancin master and two tailors, out iv yer house — 
 
 Hould yer tongue now, I tell ye,^^ exclaimed Else ; 
 hould yer tongue, or ITl slap yer in the face. Yer 
 niver aisy but whin yer at some divilmint. So, as I was 
 tellin ye, he wanted to know all about the light-keeper 
 here and his niece, and the wrack of the Saldana, though, 
 bedad, he seems to know himself more about it nor me. 
 Why sure, Lanty, he tells me that .Mr. Lee had a brother, 
 or cousin, or some very near frind lost in that same ship, 
 for he niver was heerd tell of, livin or dead, since the 
 vessel sailed from Bristol ; and more nor that, Lanty, he 
 was a high up officer, if you plaze, and a fine darin bould 
 gentleman to boot.^^ 
 
 Ha ! see that now ! Bedad, and it^s only what I al- 
 ways thought myself of the same Mr. Lee, since the first 
 day I laid my eyes on him ; for he has the look of a gen- 
 tleman in his very face, even if he is only a light-keeper; 
 and what’s better nor all that, Else Curley, he has the 
 feelins of a gentleman in his heart.” 
 
 Ha, ha — look ! ” exclaimed Else, laying one hand 
 suddenly on Lanty ’s shoulder, and pointing with the 
 3 * 
 
30 
 
 MARY LEE, OR 
 
 stocking in the other to the angler below; ha, ha — 
 he’s in a mighty pucker, poor man.” 
 
 ''0, the bungler, the bungler!” exclaimed Lanty ; 
 '"he’s got his hooks tangled in the weeds at the very 
 first cast ; look how he pulls I Why, it’s a sin and a 
 shame to let him use such beautiful tackling in that lub- 
 berly way. But whist ! see I by the powers iv pewter, 
 it’s a trout he has, and a three pounder into the bargain 
 — there he jumps like a salmon! 0, meel-a-murther ! 
 did iver mortal man see the like ! He’ll smash every- 
 thing — bad scran to him, the omedhawn, why don’t he 
 give the fish fair play — he pulls, for all the world, as if 
 he’d a grampus on a jack line ; ” and the speaker grew 
 so indignant that he threatened to run down and snatch 
 the rod from the stranger’s hands ; but Else Curley coun- 
 selled him to take it aisy, and interfere in nobody’s 
 business till he was asked ; if the trout breaks the 
 man’s gear,” she added, '' he has money enough to buy 
 more.” 
 
 By this time the fish had run out the greater part of 
 the line, and kept backing and tugging with all its might, 
 like a fettered partridge making a last effort to escape 
 on the approach of the -snarer. The whole strength of 
 the trout was made to bear on the casting line ; for the 
 rod, instead of being held in a vertical position, allowing 
 its supple point to play up and down as the fish plunged, 
 was, on the contrary, grasped in both hands as horizon- 
 tally as if he had caught a shark with a boat-hook, and 
 was actually dragging it ashore by main strength. 
 
 ''The man’s castin line,” cried Lanty, if he has any 
 on at all, must be made of fiddler’s catgut, or it never 
 could stand that usage.” 
 
 The trout, after thus endeavoring to shake itself free 
 of the hook, now dived, and making a desperate sheer, 
 ran out the line apparently to its last turn on the wheel ; 
 and Lanty felt full sure the trout had broken loose at last, 
 and carried flies and casting line away with him into the 
 deep. But he was mistaken ; for hardly had the exhaust- 
 ed fish been down a moment, when he rose again, and 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 31 
 
 sputtered on the surface like a wounded water hen. At 
 this instant an object came suddenly into view which 
 gave an entirely new feature to the scene. A little boat, 
 carrying a small, light sprit-sail as white as snow, shot 
 round the point, and passed within two fathoms^ length 
 of the angler before he perceived it. 
 
 Hilloa ! cried Lanty ; there goes Mary Lee. There 
 she is in the stern sheets, handling her cockle-shell like a 
 water spirit. And there goes Drake,' too, sittin in the 
 bows, with his cold black nose over the gun wale. 
 
 Old Elsie laid by her knitting and wiped her bleared 
 eyes to look down at the scene. Musha, thin, may I 
 niver do harm but that^s jist the darling herself, Lanty, 
 she muttered ; there she is in her blue jacket and white 
 straw hat, the best and gentlest girl iver sailed on Ely 
 water. 
 
 Hardly had Elsie spoken, and raised up her fleshless 
 hands to support her pointed chin, that she might gaze 
 down more steadily on the scene below, when Drake, mis- 
 taking the sputtering fish for a wounded bird, sprang from 
 the bows, seized it by the back before his mistress could 
 prevent him, and then, snapping both rod and line at a 
 single jerk, turned away from the confounded and aston- 
 ished sportsman, and swam after the boat, snuffing the 
 air and wagging his tail in an ecstasy of delight. 
 
 Well done, Drake, cried Lanty, starting up from 
 his seat, and clapping his hands in such glee that the 
 pipe fell from his mouth unobserved, and broke in pieces 
 at his feet. Well done, ould dog! well done, my gal- 
 lant ould fellow — that^s it, Drake 1 — that^s just what 
 he deserves, the blundering gawkie, to abuse such a 
 fish in that way.^^ 
 
 The light breeze from the south-east had been gaining for 
 the last half hour or so, and now blew so fresh round the 
 point that the little boat lay down almost gunwale under, 
 and swept past, before her fair pilot could bring her with- 
 in speaking distance of the stranger. Once she tried to 
 jam her up to windward, probably with the intention of 
 
32 
 
 MARY LEE, OR 
 
 apologizing for Drake^s uncivil behavior ; but the little 
 craft refused to obey^ and then, waving her hand, she let 
 her fall off towards the opposite shore, and was soon 
 lost sight of behind the point. 
 
 All this took place in much less time than we have 
 taken to describe it, the boat appearing and disappearing 
 as suddenly as a moving picture in a panorama. 
 
 The bewildered stranger gazed after the fair occupant 
 of the little boat as long as she remained in sight, and 
 then, peering stealthily round to see if any one had wit- 
 nessed his discomfiture, disjointed the remainder of his 
 fishing rod, and throwing it carelessly on his shoulder, 
 walked away slowly and sadly from the shore. 
 
 There he goes,^^ said Lanty, buttoning his green 
 jacket ; * ' there he goes, sneaking off' like a fox from a hen 
 roost. 0, that he may niver come back, I pray ! Begorra, 
 it^s ducked he ought to be, if iver he has the assurance to 
 cast aline in the wather again. But I must be off* myself 
 to the lighthouse, and coax Mr. Lee for a mallard wing 
 for Uncle Jerry. 
 
 '' 0, ay ! to be sure. Uncle Jerry ! there^s no one like 
 Uncle Jerry. thin may be if the gentleman youh*e for 
 ducking in the lough there was as free to you with his 
 purse as Uncle Jerry, heM just be as great a favorite, 
 every bit. But it^s an ould sayin and a true one, Lanty 
 — Praise the fool as you find him.^^ 
 
 Bon^t say that. Else Curley,^^ replied Lanty, laying 
 his hand on her shoulder, and speaking more earnestly 
 than usual, — don^t say that, for the heavens knows I 
 wouldn^t give one kind word of Uncle Jerry^s lips, or one 
 kindly feeling of his ginerous fine ould heart, for a mil- 
 lion like him. And listen to me. Else Curley, for Um 
 going to tell ye a secret. I know that man off an on for 
 a month and more, — not that I was iver much in his com- 
 pany ; but I watched him, and watched him too for a 
 raisin o^ my own, — and I tell you plainly, Else, if he 
 opened his purse to me ivery day in the year, and it full 
 o^ goold guineas, I cudn^t feel it in my heart to touch one 
 o^ thim.^^ 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 33 
 
 Arrah, yon cudn^t now ! responded Else, in a half- 
 incredulous, half-jeering tone. '' By my word, it^s mighty 
 big spoken of you, Mr. Hanlon. thin might a body 
 make so bould as to ax yer raisins ; faith, they must be 
 powerful ones intirely.^^ 
 
 I have no particklar raisins,^' replied Lanty ; he 
 niver did harm to me nor mine, that I know of. But I 
 don^t like him. There^s something wrong about him, and 
 I feel it somehow when Fm near him ; there^s a dark 
 spot in him somewhere that the bright light niver reached 
 yit, Else.^^ 
 
 Humph ! ejaculated the old woman, looking sharply 
 at her companion ; 3 ^ou suspect him of something ? 
 
 And what is it, Lanty ? 
 
 I can^t tell ; it^s a mj^sthery to myself. But he has 
 that in his eye that^s not lucky. What brings him down 
 here so often, Fd like to know ? 
 
 Why, trout fishin, av coorse — what else ? replied 
 his companion. 
 
 Pshaugh ! nonsense, Else Curley ; you can’t run 
 ' Donal ’ on me that way, cute and all as ye are. That 
 man don’t care a brass farthin for the best fishin in Don- 
 egal, from Onea River to Malin Head. I see it in his 
 very motions. There’s not a dhrap o’ sportman’s blood 
 in his body.” 
 
 0, no ! not a dhrap, because he don’t go into the 
 doldrums, like Uncle Jerry, at every fin he sees rising 
 above the water. Humph ! pity but he wud.” 
 
 ''The fish he’s after don’t live in wather. Else Curley, 
 and you know it,” said Lanty, laying his finger on the 
 old woman’s shoulder, and whispering the words into 
 her ear. 
 
 " Me ! ” 
 
 " Ay, in troth, jist yourself. Else, and sorra much iv a 
 parish wondher it id be aither, some o’ these days, if it 
 turned out that he was trying to buy one Else Curley o’ 
 the ‘ Cairn ’ to bait his hook for him into the bargain.” 
 
34 
 
 MAEY LEE, OE 
 
 The old woman endeavored to look astonished at the 
 accusation, but there was a faint smile in the corner of 
 her mouth she could not entirely suppress. A stranger 
 would possibly have called it a contortion of the lips ; but 
 Lanty Hanlon was an old acquaintance, and knew her 
 better. 
 
 You needn^t try to consale it, Else,^’ replied Lanty, 
 ** for do yer best you cudn^t consale it from me. 1 know 
 ye too well, ould woman. There^s a sacret about that 
 man and the Lees, and no mortal in this neighborhood 
 knows it but yerself.^^ 
 
 A sacret ! tut, you^re dhramin,^^ replied Else, turning 
 away and laying her thumb on the latch of the door ; a 
 sacret, indeed ! arrah, what in the wide world put that 
 in yer head 
 '' The fairies. 
 
 Indeed, then, Mr. Hanlon, one id think ye come from 
 that same respectable stock yerself, ye know so much 
 more nor yer neighbors, retorted Else. 
 
 Well, good evenin. Else Curley. I must go, for Eve 
 business to do, and I find my company's growin trouble- 
 some, besides. But take a word o^ warnin before I start. 
 If yer bent on makin money out iv this stranger, and if 
 he’s willin to spend it on you and yer sacrets, well and 
 good ; I’m content. But listen to me. Else. Make the 
 laste offer to thrifle wid a sartin person you know of, — say 
 but a wrong word, — breathe but a single bad breath, was 
 it as low as the very weasel’s, — and my hand on my con- 
 science, Else Curley, from that minute I’ll forget that we 
 were iver acquaint, and my vengeance will purshue ye 
 till the clay covers ye.” 
 
 '' Why, the heavens presarve us, Lanty Hanlon ; what 
 
 d’ye mane ? You cudn’t think I’d betray ” 
 
 '' Think ! ” repeated Lanty ; well, no matter what I 
 think ; I’ve said my say ; ” and again wishing her fair 
 thoughts and a pleasant evening, he turned from the 
 door. 
 
 Ah, the ould schamer,” he muttered to himself, as 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 35 
 
 he jerked his blackthorn under his arm, and tossed his 
 rabbit-skin cap on the side of his head once more, the 
 ould schamer, sheM betray the pope if the bribe was big* 
 enough. And still she loves her — av coorse she does 
 
 — and small blame to her aither ; for there’s no Chris- 
 tian crathur iver saw God’s good light that shouldn’t 
 love her ; and after all, I b’lieve in my conscience she’s 
 the only livin thing, barring ould Nannie, she iver did 
 love before, in her life. But love her or hate her, there’s 
 one small raisin she can’t harm her, and that’s just this 
 
 — there’s a sartain Misther Lanty Hanlon, iv these parts^ 
 won’t let her — even set in case she’d be wicked enough 
 to thry it. So, rattle away, Lanty ; the world’s big 
 enough for ye — ay, and good enough, too, ye thief, if 
 ye only go through it as ye ought, with a stout heart 
 and an honest conscience. Don’t fear, my boy ; je have 
 neither house or land, cow or calf, penny or purse, and 
 who cares ! — ye have clothes on yer back, strength in 
 yer arm, a heart without spot or flaw in it, and wid the 
 blessin o’ God to back ye, what more d’ye want ? So, 
 dance away, Lanty, and as ye hop through the figures, 
 don’t forget to keep your eye on the fiddler ; ” and 
 thus the reckless, light-hearted fellow tripped along the 
 glen, still singing the old ditty as he went : — 
 
 “ The Sassanach villains — de’il tare them ! — 
 
 They stripped us as bare as the ‘ poles ; ” 
 
 But there’s one thing we just couldn’t sp^re them — 
 
 The ‘ Kidug ’ that covers our souls. 
 
 Right fol de lol ol,” &c. 
 
36 
 
 MARY LEE, OR 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Lantxfs Propensities, — Weeks introduces himself into the 
 Lighthouse. — Finds the Keeper engaged shooting Hol- 
 land Hawks. — Takes a Crack at one himself. — As- 
 sures the Keeper Yankee Boys can hit Swallows with a 
 Rifle Ball. — Recommends the Importation of Yankee 
 Lecturers to smarten the Irish Nation. 
 
 % 
 
 It wanted still two hours of sunset, when Lantj Hanlon 
 left the lighthouse with the mallard wing in his pocket for 
 Uncle Jerry. His pace was now more hurried and pur- 
 pose-like than when last seen wending his way through 
 the dark glens. His song too had entirely ceased, and 
 he held his blackthorn staff no longer carelessly under his 
 arm, but grasped it firmly in his hand, like a traveller re- 
 solved to let no grass grow under his feet till he had 
 accomplished his journey. 
 
 On passing the road below Else Curley^s cabin, how- 
 ever, he looked up to see if the old woman was in sight, 
 that he might make her a sign of friendly recognition ; 
 or perhaps it was a wholesome dread of a second uncere- 
 monious visit from Nannie, that made him turn his eyes 
 in that direction. Be that as it may, neither Nannie nor 
 her mistress could be seen, but in their stead, and much 
 to Lanty’s surprise, appeared the tall figure of the 
 stranger, issuing from the door of the little mud cabin, 
 and making his way down the hill in the direction of the 
 lighthouse. Lanty stopped suddenly, not well knowing 
 what to think of this. He had seen the stranger, a 
 full half hour before, quitting Lough Ely, and setting 
 off towards Crohan, and naturally concluded he was by 
 that time far on his way home. A moment’s reflection, 
 however, convinced him that the man must have hid 
 himself behind some rock or hillock, and waited there till 
 he conld ventures up unobserved, to pay his usual visit to 
 Else Curley. 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 37 
 
 This manoeuvring was by no means satisfactory to 
 Lanty ; on the contrary, it served greatly to confirm the 
 bad opinion he had begun to entertain of his purpose in 
 hovering so constantly about Araheera Point. Lanty 
 Hanlon was not a man remarkable for an extra amount 
 of shrewdness — it was the very reverse with him ; 
 shrewdness was not an ingredient to mix with the mer- 
 cury of his nature at all. But the stranger^s conduct 
 was so palpably suspicious, that he could not for an 
 instant resist the idea of some plot between him and Else 
 Curley. In the first place, the man had been only two 
 days in the country when he found the old woman out 
 — nay, went as straight to her cabin as if he had been 
 sent there on a message, and since that time visited her 
 every day, remaining with her often whole hours togeth- 
 er. As for his pretext of fishing, it was the flimsiest in 
 the world ; for no one who saw him cast a line in water 
 could ever imagine he cared a gray groat for the pleasure 
 it afibrded. Then his close and frequent inquiries about 
 the Lees, and his knowledge of certain private affairs of 
 the family, already communicated to Else Curley, — these, 
 we say, put together, were clearly suggestive of some 
 secret purpose on his part, and quite enough to raise 
 suspicion in minds far less constructive than Lanty Han- 
 lon’s. Besides, Mr. Lee was himself a stranger in the 
 place, having resided but eighteen months at the light- 
 house, and during that time had seen but little company. 
 The peasantry of the neighborhood, indeed, looked upon 
 him at first as one who disliked society, preferring a quiet 
 life at home to making and receiving visits. Hence 
 they seldom troubled him, except on matters of business, 
 and then only as little as possible. To be sure, the offi- 
 cers of the ballast board called on him three or four times 
 a year, but that was on their tours of inspection round 
 the coast; and Father John was seen, too, sometimes 
 trotting down in that direction, with his saddle-bags bob- 
 bing behind him ; but Mr. Lee was a Catholic, and Fa- 
 ther John was the priest of the parish. All this was 
 very natural. But it soon began to be whispered about 
 4 
 
38 
 
 MAEY LEE, OR 
 
 that Captain Petersham, of Castle Gregory, was seen 
 occasionally stepping ashore at the point when out yacht- 
 ing on Lough Swilly, and, what looked stranger still, 
 taking Miss Lee with him up the lough to visit his sister. 
 This latter circumstance led the good people, by degrees, 
 to regard Mr. Lee as somewhat above the rank of a com- 
 mon light-keeper, for Tom Petersham was the crack gen- 
 tleman of the county, and (though somewhat reduced 
 himself) always felt a peg or two above associating with 
 the squires and newly-fledged baronets of the district. 
 So they concluded, after various speculations and gossip 
 on the matter, that Mr. Lee must have been once a real 
 gentleman, whom reverse of fortune had obliged to ac- 
 cept his present humble situation as a last resource. 
 And so they continued ever after to regard him, saluting 
 him with every mark of respect when they happened to 
 meet about the lighthouse, and never presuming to in- 
 trude on his privacy except to settle their little business 
 transactions, or when he chose to employ their services 
 about the lighthouse yard. 
 
 Now, Lanty Hanlon saw all this long ago, and regu- 
 lated his intercourse with the family to suit the case 
 precisely. He asked no questions, made no apologies, 
 came and went just as he pleased ; and yet, as he often 
 was heard to say himself, knew as little about Mr. Lee, 
 or his private affairs, as the blackest stranger in the 
 kingdom ! 
 
 Young, active, and fond of recreation, Lanty always 
 found Araheera Head a capital spot to indulge in his 
 favorite pastime of gunning and fishing, and shortly after 
 Mr. Lee^s arrival found that gentleman quite as fond of 
 the sport as himself. And thus an intimacy grew up 
 between them all at once — an intimacy, by the way, 
 which each felt it his interest to cultivate ; Lanty for the 
 sake of the light-keeper^s influence with the neighboring 
 gentry, in whose power he often unfortunately found him- 
 self, and the light-keeper for the sake of Lanty^s skill as 
 a sportsman, in his frequent excursions on Lough Swilly. 
 Besides Lanty kept a pair of black greyhounds, the best 
 
THE YANKEE IN ICELAND. 
 
 39 
 
 ever ran on four feet, and the terror of all the game-keepers 
 in the three baronies. These enabled him to supply his 
 friend with hare’s ear ” for his flies, and if the truth must 
 be told, with haunches for his table too, occasionally, with- 
 out troubling his conscience greatly about the infraction of 
 the game laws. Then he was moreover an excellent shot 
 with either rifle or birding piece, and could bag a brace of 
 grouse or wild ducks on sea-side or mountain as prettily 
 as the best landlord’s son in the parish — always remem- 
 bering to reserve the wings for Mr. Lee’s and Uncle 
 Jerry’s fly hooks. Sometimes, too, the light-keeper 
 would find a white trout for breakfast of a morning, or a 
 salmon for dinner, without any distinct recollection of 
 having caught them himself, or bought them from any 
 particular fish-hawker of the neighborhood. For reasons 
 such as these, and others quite unnecessary to mention, 
 Lanty soon became a constant and welcome visitor at 
 Araheera Head, and indeed finally grew to be so special 
 a favorite with the light-keeper that he could hardly pre- 
 vail on himself to take his boat or his gun without Lanty 
 at his elbow. He even ofiered him a salary larger than 
 his limited means could well aflbrd, to live with him 
 altogether ; but Lanty invariably refused, preferring a 
 free foot on the hill-side after his dogs, and a ramble on 
 the sea-shore with his rifle, to all the inducements he 
 could offer. These rambles, however, often brought him 
 into trouble ; but if they did, he always depended on Mr. 
 Lee to get him out of it. On such occasions the honest 
 light-keeper would bluster and swear as stoutly as a 
 Dutch burgomaster never to speak another word in the 
 villain’s behalf, should it save him from the gallows, and 
 often even went so far as to order the members of his 
 family never to let the scoundrel inside his doors again ; 
 but somehow or other these resolutions never held out 
 — all his indignation seemed to vanish in his sleep ; and 
 before the sun got up on the following morning, he was 
 sure to despatch a note to Tom Petersham, or some other 
 gentleman of the neighborhood, to beg their interest in 
 the unfortunate fellow’s behalf. Lanty, in fact, was 
 
40 
 
 MARY LEE, OR 
 
 never out of scrapes for a week together since Mr. Lee 
 first saw him. He had either fallen foul of a bailiff, or 
 beaten a policeman, or cudgelled a game-keeper, or 
 spread a salmon by torchlight, or stole a game-cock, or 
 — something was always sure to be wrong, whenever 
 he was absent three days at a time from Araheera light- 
 house. 
 
 Intimate, however, as Lanty was with the family, he 
 knew nothing of their history save what he picked up 
 from an odd word dropped now and then between Mary 
 Lee and the light-keeper, or between himself and old 
 Koger O^Shaughnessy, when they went up the tower of 
 an evening to chat and trim the lamps together. What 
 he learned from the latter, however, was never very satis- 
 factory, for Koger considered himself too respectable and 
 important a personage to hold much confidential inter- 
 course with a light-headed scatterbrain like Lanty Hanlon. 
 But whilst Roger said little of the family connections di- 
 rectly, he indulged frequently in little sneers at the pre- 
 tensiolis of the Donegal aristocracy, wondered where in the 
 world they found the arms on their carriage panels, and 
 if they didn^t one and all inherit their gentle blood from 
 
 Shemus Sallagh or Oliver Cromwell. This contempt- 
 uous way of speaking about his neighbors was plain 
 enough, and Lanty understood it. The nobler families of 
 the south was a subject on which Roger loved very much 
 to descant in a sort of soliloquial tone, when he sat 
 down of a summer^s evening in the lantern to burnish up 
 the reflectors, with Lanty at his side. Many a long sigh 
 would he draw, talking over the olden times, when real 
 lords and ladies used to throng the halls of a certain cas- 
 tle in the south (surrounded by their servants in splendid 
 liveries), to drink the choicest wines or dance to the 
 music of the old family harp ; and if his companion ven- 
 tured to inquire the name of the castle or of its owner, lit- 
 tle information would he get from Roger O^Shaughnessy. 
 Still, studiously averse as Roger was to the revelation of 
 family secrets, he could not hide from his quick-witted 
 companion the conclusion warranted by his frequent 
 
THE YANKEE IN IKELAND. 
 
 41 
 
 though indirect allusions. Besides, Eoger always wore 
 a curious old-fashioned coat when serving dinner, which 
 contributed more, perhaps, than anything else to enlight- 
 en Lanty as to the antecedents of the family. This coat 
 was once a bottle-green of fine texture, as might be seen 
 by those shady little corners here and there, where the 
 sun had not been able to peep, nor the wear and tear of 
 half a century entirely to reach. With a few redeeming 
 spots like these, however, excepted, the rest of the gar- 
 ment was faded, threadbare, and polished as the cuff of a 
 sailor^s jacket. The high,' stiff collar, the buff facings, 
 and the long tails would have plainly showed it had once 
 been livery, even if the two lonely gilt buttons on the 
 high waist behind, bearing the family crest, had been lost 
 and gone with the rest of the brotherhood. Every day, 
 before the little bell rang for dinner, did Roger divest 
 himself of his working-dress, brush over the few white 
 hairs that still remained to cover his polished scalp, and 
 then put on his bottle-green livery with as much care and 
 tenderness as if it had been wove of spider^s web. Poor 
 Eoger I many a scold he got from Mr. Lee for keeping 
 up his ridiculous old notions, and many a laugh had Mr. 
 Petersham at his profound salutations, when he came to 
 visit the family ; but laugh or scold, it was the same to 
 Eoger : on he went, practising the same old habits, de- 
 spite every remonstrance. 
 
 This obscurity in which the history of the Lees was 
 involved, coupled with the mysterious conduct of the 
 stranger, led Lanty Hanlon to suspect some deep plot- 
 ting between him and Else Curley. As for the latter, he 
 had little fear she would take part in anything directly 
 tending to bring misfortune on the light-keeper or his 
 family ; but still she might meddle so far with the dan- 
 ger as to bring them into trouble without actually intend- 
 ing it, — and all for the sake of gold, to obtain which he 
 supposed the miserly old creature was prepared to run 
 any risk, even that of her salvation. Hooh ! he mut- 
 tered, for that matther, sheM go to the deMPs door and 
 singe her ould beard at the key-hole to earn a sixpence ; 
 
 4 * 
 
42 
 
 MAE.Y LEE, OR 
 
 and as for you, my augeuaugh,^’ he continued, gazing 
 after the retreating figure of the stranger, yeVe the 
 cut of a schamer about ye, any way. Be all that^s bad, 
 I niver saw ye with a fishin rod in yer hand yet, but ye 
 put me in mind iv one i^ them, big long-nosed cranes 
 down there standing up to their knees in the wather, 
 watchin round for the little innocent shiners to make a 
 pounce on them. F^eth, may be iFs some sworn inemy 
 i' the family ye are, keeping their thrail all the time since 
 they left the south ; or may be it^s a sheriff's ojfficer yeM 
 be in purshuit of an ould debt ; or, by jaminy king, who 
 knows but yer some discarded sweetheart sneakin afther 
 Mary Lee. If yer that, IM advise ye lave the country 
 or buy yer coffin. But whatsomever ye are, yer a chate 
 any way, that^s sartin ; and so, may sweet bad luck at- 
 tind ye, achushla, and that’s my prayer for ye, night and 
 mornin, sleepin and wakin ; ” and Lanty shook his fist at 
 the stranger as he disappeared over the brow of the hill ; 
 
 and since ould Else has tuck ye in tow,” he concluded, 
 spitting on his stick and again heading for the mountains, 
 I’ll just stand by and look on ; but one thing I’ll be 
 bould to tell ye both, cute and all as ye are, that by the 
 powers o’ pewther ye’ll have to rise early and thravel fast 
 if ye hope to get the blind side if one Lanty Hanlon.” 
 
 Leaving* Lanty to pursue his journey across Benraven, 
 we return to the stranger. After examining for some 
 time the structure of the narrow iron bridge over the 
 chasm called the ^'Devil’s Gulch,” he raised the latch of 
 the gate, and finding it unlocked, pushed it open. The 
 light-keeper’s lodge, facing him directly as he entered, 
 was a long low cottage fronting full on the sea. The 
 light tower rose up close by its side, with its great 
 round lantern on top, to the height of a hundred and 
 fifty feet from the rock, as smooth and white as marble. 
 The doors, walls, and window sashes of the lodge were 
 also white and clean as human hands could make them ; 
 even the black stone steps by which he ascended to the 
 hall door shone bright and spotless as"^ polished ebony. 
 The place, however, notwithstanding the care and trou- 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 43 
 
 ble it cost, looked still and deserted. For full ten min- 
 utes the stranger stood in front of the house gazing 
 round him, and yet no one came to bid him welcome. A 
 little white bantam on the grass plot before the door, 
 scraping up the greensward and calling his family round 
 him, was the only sign of life to be seen. In such a re- 
 mote spot ho naturally hoped the presence of a stranger 
 in his garb would draw some one from the house ; but he 
 was mistaken. At length, tired of waiting, he advanced 
 to the door and knocked ; still there was no answer : he 
 knocked again, and yet no one came. Then turning the 
 handle and opening the door, he stepped over the thresh- 
 old, and found himself all at once in a long passage or 
 entrance hall. On either side of this hall hung several 
 spears and fowling pieces, here and there, fishing rods 
 resting in brass sockets against the wall, and suspended 
 from the ceiling, half a dozen or more reels of jack lines, 
 with hooks and leads attached, ready for use. It was 
 evident from their superior quality, and the excellent 
 condition in which they were kept, these articles were 
 used more for amusement than profit. Beyond, how- 
 ever, and near the opposite extremity of the passage, 
 hung two light oars of beautiful finish, and close beside 
 them a small sail of Russia duck, with its little sheet 
 coiled carefully round it, and if oi]o might judge from its 
 appearance, but recently used. The stranger seemed to 
 notice this last-mentioned article with special interest ; 
 and the cold smile that overspread his long face as ho 
 looked at it plainly showed he knew well by whose del- 
 icate fingers it was handled last. Proceeding along the 
 hall like a connoisseur in a picture gallery, he came at 
 last to an open door opening into a spacious parlor, 
 and entering without further ceremony, sat down on the 
 first chair he saw, and carelessly throwing up his feet 
 on the seat of another, began to gaze about him, like 
 a man quite resolved to await the coming of some one, 
 should he wait till morning. 
 
 About this apartment, in which the stranger now 
 found himself seated all alone, there was a general air 
 
44 
 
 MARY LEE, OR 
 
 of comfort and taste, which at once suggested the idea 
 of a lady mistress far above what he might expect to 
 find at a light-keeper^s lodge, and especially at so re- 
 mote a point as Araheera Head. Nevertheless, though 
 the room looked comfortable, and everything arranged 
 in excellent taste, there was still nothing in it either 
 new or fashionable. Massive picture frames with grim 
 looking faces in the background hung here and there 
 round the apartment ; but their rich gilding was gone, 
 and their edges, stripped and black, made sad contrast 
 with the newly-painted walls. The harpsichord in the 
 corner had lost its silver handles, by which in olden 
 times it was so often drawn out into the merry circle, 
 and the ancient clock opposite, now silent as a tomb- 
 stone, glared over at its once light-hearted companion 
 with a melancholy expression of countenance. They 
 had, doubtless, been friends together for many a year, 
 and in their early days had oft conversed pleasantly 
 from opposite corners — each after his own fashion. 
 But age, alas ! had now left his mark on both. The 
 clock^s open, good-natured face was bleared and wrin- 
 kled, so much so, indeed, that its early associates could 
 scarcely have recognized it ; and the harpsichord’s once 
 burnished case had lost all its polish, and its edges were 
 stripped and lean, like the elbows of an old coat. Still, 
 though both were broken down and somewhat shabby, 
 they were clean and decent, like old gentlemen who had 
 seen better days. And there, too, near the fireplace, 
 was the high-backed sofa with its heavily-carved feet 
 and double rows of brass nails along the edges. But 
 conspicuous above all appeared the old family Bible lying 
 in state upon the centre table, under its vellum cover 
 and iron clasps. Everything in the room spoke elo- 
 quently of the past, for everything looked ancient and 
 venerable, even to the bird cage over the window, 
 where the gray linnet sat dozing with his head under 
 his wing. 
 
 That apartment, dear reader, was an epitome of the 
 history of Ireland, and might have furnished materials 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 45 
 
 for a finer allegorical picture than ever Claude Lorraine 
 drew — her heroes without a name or monument save 
 those poor rotting shreds of canvas — the fire of her 
 mu«ic dying out day by day, nay — alas that we should 
 say it ! — almost as cold and dead as the blackened em- 
 bers on her desolate shrines — her once brave and stal- 
 wart sons now wrapping their emaciated limbs in their 
 tattered garments and resigning themselves, without a 
 struggle, to serfdom and the grave. Had the author of 
 the Giaour, who could see even in the fair but lifeless 
 form of woman the picture of Greece, but living Greece 
 no more,^^ — had he lived to sit there and gaze around 
 him, how much more sublime the inspiration he had drawn 
 from those sad, crumbling relics ! Yes, the nation was 
 still living, but all her glories, save the glory of her faith, 
 had departed. 
 
 But the stranger^s heart was not one of that mould. 
 On the contrary, he scanned every article of furniture in 
 the room with a cold, prying curiosity, that accorded ill 
 with the fashionable sporting dress he wore, and having 
 at last completed his survey, drew his chair to the centre 
 table, and opened the sacred volume. 
 
 Had he been a lover of old books, he might have paused 
 to examine the title page before he proceeded farther, and 
 the curiously illuminated letters it exhibited, but especially 
 an ancient and copious note in the margin, purporting to 
 show that the book was printed at Madrid in the year 
 146L by a native of Mentz, at royal request — a fact 
 which might have greatly surprised those French and 
 German litterateurs who claim for Louis XIY. and Fred- 
 eric II. the honor of having been the only patrons of the 
 art before that period. But the gentleman was either 
 not of that class, or ignorant of the Latin tongue, in which 
 it was printed, for he ran his eye hastily over the page, 
 without seeming to notice either date or language. 
 
 Without pausing a moment, he turned over leaf after 
 leaf, glancing merely at the top and bottom of the pages, 
 and evidently in search of something he understood was 
 to be found there. He spent some five or six minutes 
 
46 
 
 MARY LEE, OR, 
 
 in this search; and at last, having discovered what he 
 sought, drew from his breast pocket a small book of 
 tablets, copied what items he thought necessary, and then, 
 hastily closing the Bible, (stealthily watching the doors 
 of the apartment all the while,) clasped it as before. 
 
 It happened in replacing the book he dropped some- 
 thing on the floor, and instantly picking it up, found it to 
 be a silver beaded rosary, with a gold crucifix attached, 
 and of exquisite workmanship. The image was of the 
 purest gold, the nails in the hands and feet were diamonds 
 of great brilliancy, and the cross, on which the figure 
 hung, ivory inlaid with some precious metal, and bordered 
 with small but costly pearls. It was evidently the relic 
 of some pious ancestor, for the beads were much worn, 
 and the edges of the cross had lost their original sharp- 
 ness, and grown round and smooth from the wear and 
 tear of years. It was curious to see how the stranger 
 smiled as he held up the sacred trinket between his 
 finger and thumb. A child could have read in his coun- 
 tenance how little he respected either the image or the 
 reality — the cross or the crucified. Whilst engaged, 
 however, in this contemptuous inspection of the venera- 
 ble and precious relic, — the sneer on his face growing 
 deeper as he gazed, — he was startled by a shadow sud- 
 denly darkening the windovf, and turning to see what it 
 was, beheld the same countenance which smiled on him 
 from the stern of the little boat an hour before, peeping 
 through the glass. The face was so close to the window 
 that the stranger might have seen, from its peculiar ex- 
 pression, he had been mistaken for some familiar friend, 
 whose visit had been expected. The side light troubled 
 her so much at first that she could see nothing distinctly 
 in the room, and raising both hands to shade it off‘, hap- 
 pened to throw back the broad-brimmed hat she wore, 
 and thus revealed in full view to the stranger, now ad- 
 vanced within arm^s length of the window, a countenance 
 of extraordinary beauty. But there was little leisure left 
 him to gaze upon it — for in another second the laughing 
 girl had discovered her mistake, and startled by the close 
 
THE YANKEE IN IKELAND. 
 
 47 
 
 proximity of a man so utterly unknown to her, and trem- 
 bling with shame and confusion at her apparent levity, 
 bounded back as if a spectre had confronted her, and flew 
 away from the window like an affrighted bird. 
 
 The stranger called to her to stop and listen to his 
 apology ; he knocked on the glass, and even attempted 
 to raise the sash and follow her ; but all was in vain : 
 away she ran over the green lawn, her tresses streaming 
 back on the gentle breeze, and disappeared over the edge 
 of the precipice. For an instant the disappointed sports- 
 man stood spell-bound, hardly able to tell whether the 
 form was a vision or a reality. And no wonder. Her 
 figure so light and airy, her extreme grace of motion 
 even in the confusion and hurry of her flight, and the 
 exquisite beauty of her modest face, might well indeed 
 have raised such an illusion in minds far more philosophic 
 than the stranger^s. 
 
 And now again all was still as before ; not a sound 
 was to be heard but the sullen break of the sluggish 
 wave against the rocks, or the occasional call of the little 
 proud bantam still scraping on the green. 
 
 The sun had sunk by this time within an hour of his 
 setting, and crowned the far-off summit of Benraven with 
 bis golden light. The sky was cloudless, and the air as 
 balmy as the zephyrs that play round the base of the 
 Himalayas and fan the banks of the ancient Hydaspes. 
 Stealing out from under the shadows of the island ap- 
 peared the white sails of the coasting vessels, with scarce 
 wind enough to give them motion, — so calm had it 
 grown for the last hour ; and away beyond them, in the 
 west, rose the dark form of the Horn, round whose top 
 the wings of countless sea birds might be seen wheeling 
 and glinting in the rays of the setting sun. The scene 
 was as grand and picturesque as one might care to look 
 upon, and yet it seemed to awaken but little interest in 
 the stranger. Indeed, the sullen look of disappointment 
 on his face, as he gazed through the window on the 
 world without, showed but slight relish for the poetry of 
 nature. At last, turning away abruptly from the case- 
 
48 
 
 MARY LEE, OR 
 
 merit when he saw there was no likelihood of the young 
 lady returning, he retraced his steps to the hall door, and 
 was just about to follow the visionary form to the edge 
 of the rock, when, to his great relief, he heard the sharp 
 crack of a rifle, within twenty paces of where he stood. 
 Looking in the direction of the sound, he saw smoke 
 curling slowly up from' the sea ; then a water spaniel 
 sprang on the bank, and began to shake the brine from 
 his dripping sides ; and finally, a man in a pea jacket, 
 with his pantaloons rolled up over the tops of his boots, 
 and a gun in his hand, suddenly made his appearance, 
 lie was apparently about fifty years of age, stout and 
 hearty looking, and carried in his face, as he approached 
 the stranger, a look of welcome which it was impossible 
 for a moment to mistake. 
 
 Good evening, sir,^^ said he, touching his hat to his 
 visitor, hardly able to utter the words, so exhausted was 
 he in climbing up the rock. 
 
 The stranger slowly introduced his arms under his 
 coat tails, and made a grave and respectful inclination 
 of his head. 
 
 Sorry you found no one in the house to bid you 
 welcome, said the stout gentleman, wiping the perspira- 
 tion from his face. 
 
 Eayther think the apology should come the other 
 way,^^ replied the stranger, drawling out his words. 
 
 0, don^t mind that, sir ; when you found nobody in 
 the house, you did perfectly right to make yourself as 
 much at home as possible. 
 
 Mr Lee, I presume — the gentleman here in charge? 
 
 The same, sir, and quite at your service — that is, 
 as soon as I can manage to catch breath again. Heigh-ho ! 
 By George, I havenT gone through as much these ten 
 years before. That confounded Holland hawk has the 
 nine lives of a cat — and — and I verily believe a few 
 to spare besides. Pheugh ! heugh ! 
 
 Been gunning, I perceive. 
 
 Yes ; fired fourteen balls — nine of them clean into 
 his body, and there he is, yet, sound as ever.’^ 
 
THE YANKEE EN IRELAND. 
 
 49 
 
 Well, now, that^s rayther uncommon — ain^t it?’^ 
 said the stranger, without moving an inch from his po- 
 sition ; should think one was enough/' 
 
 '' The bird's not natural, sir," replied Mr. Lee ; 
 ''that's the best explanation I can give." 
 
 " Just so," said the stranger, nodding a stinted assent 
 — " not natural." 
 
 " Besides," added Mr. Lee, "though he looks large in 
 the water, the fellow is really as light as a feather. I 
 believe in my soul, sir, you can no more pierce that bird 
 with a ball than you can a piece of floating corkwood." 
 
 " Can't, eh ? " 
 
 " No, sir, it's impossible. I'm living here eighteen 
 months, or thereabouts, and during that time I can safely 
 say I wasted more powder on him than would blow up 
 the tower." 
 
 " Well, look here, why not snare him ? " 
 
 " Snare him ! " 
 
 " Why, yes, trap him by night, since you can't shoot 
 him by day." 
 
 " 0, tut, tut! no, sir, the bird's game. Moreover, 
 you might as well try to snare a fox in a market 
 place." 
 
 " Well, take him flying, and meet him with the ball," 
 said the stranger, now thrusting his hands deep into his 
 breeches pockets, and hitching up his cap behind with 
 the collar of his coat ; " seen swallows killed that 
 
 way." 
 
 " What, swallows with a ball ? " 
 
 "Yes, sir ; boys can do it in the section of the country 
 I was raised in." 
 
 The light-keeper turned a sharp, searching eye on the 
 stranger, and scanned him from head to foot without 
 saying a syllable in reply. The last word sounded odd 
 to his ear. In fact, it suggested a sort of vegetable 
 idea, and the figure of the man who uttered it helped 
 to give that idea, ridiculous as it was, something of a 
 specific form. Or, rather, his tall, lithe figure, freckled 
 face, and long, straight, sandy hair, made up a parsnip 
 5 
 
60 
 
 MAEY LEE, OR 
 
 kind of personality that tickled the light-keeper^s fancy 
 very much, and made him laugh. 
 
 Well/^ said the stranger, mistaking the laugh, it 
 requires considerable experience, I allow ; but still our 
 boys can do it, and as to that creetur there, I guess I 
 can hit him flying myself. 
 
 ''Flying! ha! ha! My dear sir, the bird never 
 flies. 
 
 " He^s got wings — ^ hain^t he ? 
 
 " CanH certify as to that,^^ responded the light-keeper ; 
 " never saw any, at least — and whaFs still more remark- 
 able, he never quits this shore. 
 
 " Why, you don^t mean that there particular bird, 
 do you ? 
 
 " That identical bird, sir.’^ 
 
 " He^s got a mate, I reckon, and goes off once in a 
 while — don^t he ? 
 
 "No, sir, he has no mate — never had any.^^ 
 
 " Excuse me,^^ said the stranger, attempting a smile ; 
 " Pm not long in this section of the world, I allow, but 
 I guess IVe been raised too near one Phineas Barnum, 
 you might hear of, to believe such a story as that ; and 
 the speaker thrust his hands down lower still into his 
 pockets, and looked knowingly at the light-keeper. 
 
 " I know nothing of Phineas Barnum, responded Mr. 
 Lee, grounding his rifle and resting on the muzzle, " but 
 I repeat to you, nevertheless, that the bird you see 
 floating on the water there before your eyes has never 
 been out of this bay for the last eighteen months, and 
 during that time was never seen in any other creature’s 
 company, man, bird, or beast.” 
 
 " Shoh ! you don’t say so — summer or winter ? 
 Why, I rayther think that’s impossible — ain’t it ? ” 
 
 " Summer and winter are all the same to him,” replied 
 the light-keeper. "I have seen him in January, when 
 the storm threatened to blow the lantern off the tower, 
 and the sea to wash this little island and all it contains 
 into the deep, — I have seen him at such times sitting 
 as calm and composed on the swells of the sea as a 
 
THE YANKEE .IN IRELAND. 
 
 51 
 
 Turk on an ottoman smoking his pipe. He^s the sauciest 
 villain that ever swam, sir — look at him now beyond 
 the boat there — see how the rascal comes sailing up to 
 us like a swan, with his arched neck and look of proud 
 defiance. 
 
 Is the piece loaded ? ’’ inquired the stranger, in a 
 quiet, modest tone of voice. 
 
 No, sir ; load to suit yourself; there^s the gun, and 
 here^s the powder and ball. By George, if you kill 
 him, Ifil say you^re the best marksman in Donegal. 
 
 My name is Weeks, said the stranger, slowly 
 drawing the ramrod — Mr. Ephraim Weeks. 
 
 Weeks, repeated the light-keeper ; rather a scarce 
 name in this part of the world. 
 
 Well, yes ; I guess so — Ephraim C. B. Weeks,^^ 
 he added ; Mr. Robert Hard wrinkle of Crohan^s my 
 cousin, sir. You^re acquainted less or more with the 
 family, I presume. 
 
 ‘VHave heard of them, sir; and quite a respectable 
 family they are, by all accounts. 
 
 Well, yes ; pretty much so, I reckon, for this part 
 of the country — should be happy to see you at Crohan, 
 Mr. Lee, whenever youVe a leisure hour to spend. My 
 cousins often wonder you hainft called and brought Miss 
 Lee with you of an evening. 
 
 Your cousins are said to be very pious, and of 
 high literary acquirements,’^ observed Mr. Lee, not 
 appearing to value over much the invitation so unex- 
 pectedly and patronizingly tendered, and I fear quite 
 out of Miss Lee’s sphere and mine. We are plain 
 people here, sir, unambitious of further intercourse with 
 the world than what chance sends in our way. Are 
 you ready, sir ? ” 
 
 All ready ; and now have the goodness to remain 
 just where you stand, and look straight in the bird’s 
 eye, whilst I take aim.” So saying, Weeks knelt 
 down, and resting the muzzle of the rifle on a project- 
 ing rock, waited in that position for nearly five minutes, 
 giving the bird time, as he said, to forget there was a 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF ILUNQ1& 
 LIBRARY, 
 
52 
 
 MAKY LEE, 
 
 second party in the play. '' Now, then,^^ he cried, at 
 last, hold your hand up, to attract his attention ; 
 and as Mr. Lee complied, he took deliberate aim and 
 fired. 
 
 '' Capital shot ! exclaimed the light-keeper. '' Capital 
 shot, by George — not the first time you handled a 
 rifle, I suspect.’^ 
 
 We-ell, no — not exactly the first,^^ drawled out 
 Mr. Weeks, with a modest complacency that well be- 
 came his grave, sallow countenance ; Vve handled the 
 article more than once, I guess/’ 
 
 Both now looked anxiously around, where the bird 
 might be likely to rise ; but no bird came up to dot the 
 smooth surface of the water. 
 
 Down rather longer than usual,” said the light- 
 keeper, at length breaking silence, and that’s a sure 
 sign you haven’t touched a feather of him.” 
 
 Guess you’re mistaken,” responded Weeks ; he’s 
 floating out there somewhere as dead as a door nail. 
 Ah ! by cracky ! there he is l^dng flat on the water ; 
 see ! ” — and he pointed with one hand while he shaded 
 his eyes with the other — '' see, there he is ! ” 
 
 ''Where? Ah, yes! by George I and there he is, 
 sure enough ; well, now, who could have thought it ! ” 
 exclaimed the light-keeper, seemingly much delighted 
 with the discovery. 
 
 The object, however, to which the stranger pointed hap- 
 pened to be a little whitish colored buoy, a few fathoms 
 beyond a boat, that lay anchored within gun-shot of the 
 island. As it rose and fell on the light swells of the 
 sea, it looked by no means unlike a dead bird floating on 
 its back. Mr. Lee saw the mistake in an instant, and re- 
 solved to humor it. 
 
 " Dead as a herring I ” he exclaimed, taking off his 
 hat and rubbing up his gray hair in an ecstasy of delight. 
 " Ha ! ha ! the villain 1 he’s caught at last.” 
 
 "He’ll never trouble you again. I’ll bet,” continued 
 Weeks, coolly handing over the rifle. Then laying his 
 hand quietly on Mr. Lee’s shoulder, he added, " I make 
 
THE YANKEE IN lEELAND. 
 
 53 
 
 you a present of the bird, my friend, for I really think you 
 deserve it richly, after such an almighty waste of 
 powder/^ 
 
 The light-keeper gravely bowed his thanks. 
 
 Well, there’s one condition I would make, Mr. Lee, 
 and I kinder think youTl not object to it ; namely, that 
 you stuff the creetur, and hang it up here in the passage 
 among the fishing rods and jack lines.” 
 
 '' Certainly, Mr. Weeks, most certainly, sir, your 
 wishes must be gratified.” 
 
 And look here ; you’ll have the goodness to use 
 this for a label ; ” and he drew a card from a richly 
 chased silver case he carried in his breast pocket, and 
 handed it to the light-keeper ; affix this, if you please, 
 to the upper mandible, that your visitors may know who 
 shot the bird — not that I care to make a personal boast 
 about it — for did you know me well, you would say if 
 ever there was a man who despised boasting, that man 
 is Ephraim C. B. Weeks. But I’ve a notion, somehow, 
 that it would be just as well for the old European 
 countries here to know what sorter people we are in the 
 new world beyond, and consequently think it’s the duty 
 of every free-born American, wherever he goes, to en- 
 lighten mankind as to the character, enterprise, social 
 advancement, and universal intelligence of his country- 
 men. Yes, sir, it’s a duty our people owe to oppressed 
 and suffering humanity to make their habits, manners, 
 customs, laws, government and policies known through- 
 out universal creation. If it be our duty, as a nation, 
 to redeem the world from ignorance and slavery, as it is, 
 beyond all question, then I say it’s the special duty 
 of each and every citizen of that nation to contribute 
 his portion to the advancement and final completion 
 of the great work. We must be known, sir, in order to 
 be imitated.” 
 
 As the speaker went on to develop his views of the 
 great scheme for promoting the moral and social welfare 
 of the human family, the light-keeper held the card out 
 before him, and read in bronzed copperplate the following 
 5 * 
 
54 
 
 MARY LEE, OR 
 
 address : Ephraim C. B. Weeks, Ducksville, Connec- 
 ticut. 
 
 Humph ! By my word of honor/ ^ he muttered at 
 last, that^s a very magnificent affair. Then running 
 his eye over the person of his visitor, he seemed some- 
 what puzzled what to say. The card case protruding 
 from his pocket, the rings on both hands, and the mas- 
 sive watch chain round his neck, were all apparently 
 of the costliest description, and might well have adorned 
 the person of the highest noble in the realm ; on the 
 other hand, however, it struck him there was quite 
 a contrast between the gentleman^ s language and per- 
 sonal appearance. How that happened he was at a loss 
 to think, and therefore it was he made no reply, but 
 kept glancing from the card to the stranger, and from 
 the stranger to the card. 
 
 I rather think, Mr. Lee, you haven^t met many of 
 our people in your time, eh ? 
 
 The light-keeper replied in the negative. 
 
 Well, sir, you now see before you a real American 
 — a free-born American, sir, — a citizen of the great 
 * Model Kepublic ; ^ and the speaker again thrust his 
 hands into his breeches pockets as deep as they could 
 well go, shook up the silver at the bottom, and with a 
 self-complacent smile on his thin lips watched the light- 
 keeper^ s countenance for the effect of the startling an- 
 nouncement. 
 
 But Mr. Lee did no more than merely compliment him 
 on his birthplace, assuring him, at the same time, he 
 should always feel honored, as he did then, in making the 
 acquaintance of a citizen of the republic of Washington, 
 the model republic of the world. '' But with respect 
 to the stuffing, he continued, endeavoring to restrain 
 a smile, fear there is none to be found here who 
 understands it.^^ 
 
 '' Well, send it up to Crohan ; I shall see to it mj- 
 self ; guess we Yankees know a little more of those 
 things than you do here in the ^ Green Isle.^ 
 
 No doubt of it, Mr. Weeks, no doubt of it. 1^11 
 
THE YANKEE IN IKELAND. 
 
 55 
 
 send it immediately, and consider it a very special favor 
 indeed/^ 
 
 '' Now, then, talking of Americans,^^ said Weeks, ar- 
 resting the light-keeper by the arm, as the latter began 
 to move towards the lodge, why don^t you bring some 
 of our men over here to enlighten you, eh ? You have 
 natural talent enough, I guess, if youM only proper 
 means to develop it. Could you only get up an associa- 
 tion with funds enough to pay Yankee lecturers, you 
 would soon wake up to a sense of your capabilities. Em- 
 ploy our lecturers, sir, and send them over the country 
 here, from town to town and village to village, and Fll 
 bet a fourpence they^ll open your eyes wider than ever 
 they opened before. 
 
 ''Don^t doubt it in the least,^^ modestly replied the 
 light-keeper ; '' but won^t you come in, and have some 
 refreshment after your evening^s exercise ? Come in, 
 sir, and honor my little cabin with your presence at 
 least. 
 
 Hold on,’^ said the American, again detaining the 
 light-keeper on the steps of the threshold. Look here 
 a minute, if youYe not in a killing hurry. I should like 
 to say a word or two about shooting that Holland hawk 
 — it may serve to show you what kind of people we are 
 in the States. Well, to begin with, we calculate never 
 to miss a shot at either man, bird, or beast. You may 
 smile, sir, but it’s the fact, nevertheless. My mother 
 had a cousin once, called Nathan Bigelow — ” 
 
 Excuse me, Mr. Weeks — let us step into my office, 
 if you please ; I’ve some orders to give — allow me — 
 just for an instant.” 
 
 Well, look here,” persisted the Yankee ; ^^it’s only 
 a word or two. I was just a going to say that my 
 mother had a cousin once, called Nathan Bigelow, and a 
 shrewd man Nathan was. Well, he was said to be some- 
 where about the shrewdest in that section of the country. 
 So the folks thought all round. If there happened to 
 be town meeting, Nathan was sure to be chairman ; if 
 referees were appointed by the district judge on a heavy 
 
56 
 
 MARY LEE, OR 
 
 case of damages or the like, Nathan was certain to be 
 one of them ; or if the parson and deacon had a quarrel, 
 Nathan was alwaj^s called in to settle it. Then he was 
 consulted by half the farmers round, coming on seed time, 
 and by the selectmen about the taxes, and sometimes by 
 the new minister about the doctrine best suited to his con- 
 gregation — though the fact is, Nathan never cared much 
 for any particular kind of religion himself — that’s a fact. 
 So, as I was going to remark, cousin Nathan had a favor- 
 ite saying of his own — ” 
 
 '' Hilloa, there ! ” interrupted the light-keeper : pray 
 excuse me, Mr. Weeks — hilloa, there, 1 say ! Are you 
 all dead ? Koger, let some one see to the lantern ; it’s 
 almost lighting time. Come in, Mr. Weeks, and take a 
 seat at least.” 
 
 Wait a minute — well, as I was saying,” he con- 
 tinued, still drawling out his words slowly, '^as I was 
 saying, cousin Bigelow had a favorite saying of his own 
 — ' Take good care, boy, and don’t waste your powder.’ 
 It always came ready to him, somehow, and he could 
 apply it to every which thing in creation. Many a time, 
 ill the long winter nights, when cousin Nathan used to 
 sit by the log fire in his great rocking-chair, reading Tom 
 Paine’s ' Age of Eeason,’ and Martha Proudfut, his wife, 
 knitting her stocking right opposite, with the ' Pilgrim’s 
 Progress ’ open on the table before her, and your humble 
 servant in the corner, studying his book-keeping, — 
 many a time, I say, did cousin Nathan turn round to me, 
 without the least provocation in the world, and begin to 
 illustrate the old maxim, ' Take good aim, boy, and don’t 
 waste your powder.’ He made a — well, he made it a 
 kind of text to spin a sermon from, and a better sermon 
 he could preach — ay, by a long chalk — than the best 
 preacher in the district. He used to tell me, Nathan 
 used, — and if he did once he did a thousand times, — 
 that the old saying, simple as it sounded, had more gene- 
 wine philosophy in it than Aristotle and Epictetus put 
 together ; and let me tell you, Mr. Lee, cousin Nathan 
 had a terrible regard for these same authors — transla- 
 
THE YANKEE IN ICELAND. 
 
 57 
 
 tions of course, for he was no great hand at the dead lan- 
 guages, coming, as he did, from the old Puritan stock — his 
 great-grandfather being a true blue May Flower. Well, 
 Nathan, to be plain about it — was a caution, I tell you, 
 in the philosophy line. He never professed much admira- 
 tion for any but great men, and these were what he called 
 ticklers, because, as he said himself, they were the only 
 men who ever tickled humanity in the right place, namely, 
 Tom Paine, Benjamin Franklin, and George Washington. 
 George, he thought, was the greatest man ever the world 
 produced — and I guess, Mr. Lee,^^ said the speaker, 
 with a knowing look, ^Mf he didn^t hit the mark, he hit 
 somewhere within a mile of that neighborhood.^^ 
 
 'Wery true,^^ assented the light-keeper, ^'he certainly 
 did. Washington was a great and a good man ; all must 
 admit that ; and I trust your nation, in the first flush 
 of its prosperity, will not forget his wise counsels 
 either. 
 
 Hope not; well, what I was coming at: Nathan^s 
 old saying, ^ Take good aim, boy, and don^t waste 
 your powder,^ so constantly repeated, made a lasting im- 
 pression on my mind. The fact is, Mr. Lee, he had a 
 way of saying a thing that — well, kind of burnt it into 
 you, like. There was no forgetting it nohow ; it was a 
 sort of searing of the — 
 
 '^0, botheration to him ! exclaimed the light-keeper, 
 no longer able to endure the tiresome description’ chained 
 as he was to the speaker; ^^what matters it what he 
 was ; he^s dead long ago, I suppose, and gone to his 
 account. But, excuse me, Mr. Weeks,^^ he added a 
 moment after, ^'excuse me; Pm entirely ignorant, you 
 know, of your national characteristics. When longer 
 acquainted, I shall understand you better. And now, 
 my dear friend, let us step into my room — but hold! 
 who comes here ? By George, its Tom Petersham, in 
 the Water Hen, to pay us a visit. 
 
68 
 
 MARY LEE, OR 
 
 CHAPTEE V. 
 
 Mr. Weeks is introduced to Captain Tom Petersham^ and 
 
 is invited by that Gentleman to spend a Day at Castle 
 
 Gregory. — He also has the good Luck to catch a 
 
 Glimpse of Mary Lee. 
 
 The little craft which so suddenly arrested the light- 
 keeper^s eye, as he turned to enter the lodge, was already 
 within five minutes^ sail of the long flight of steps lead- 
 ing up from the base of the rock to the lighthouse yard. 
 She was a yacht of small tonnage, but elegantly moulded. 
 Her white hull, sunk almost to the scuppers, and her 
 light, raking spars, gave her a janty look, that seemed 
 to please the Yankee exceedingly. 
 
 '' Why, by cracky, thaPs an American boat, rig and 
 hull ! he exclaimed. Ha ! I swonnie ! — had her built 
 at one of our ship yards, I guess. 
 
 '' She was built in Cork harbor, replied the light- 
 keeper. Timber or plank, mast or spar, there^s not an 
 American chip in her.^^ 
 
 -Not, eh?^^ 
 
 - No, sir ; she^s Irish, every inch of her, from the 
 truck to the keel. Tom Petersham wouldn^t own her if 
 she was anything else. 
 
 - He wouldn^t, eh ? 
 
 The light-keeper, now seeing a boat approaching from 
 the yacht, advanced to the head of the stairs, and raised 
 his hat to a gentleman who sat in the stern. The latter, 
 as soon as the boat touched, stepped ashore. 
 
 - Hilloa, there. Master Lee,^^ he shouted as he ascended 
 the steps ; - I couldn’t pass without calling to pay my 
 respects to pretty Mary — to say nothing (0 Lord ! this 
 is worse than Loughdearg for Father John — deuce take 
 them for steps ; they don’t leave a breath in me) — not to 
 speak of the numerous injunctions respecting a promised 
 visit from the saucy baggage. Heigh-ho ! I say, Lee, 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 59 
 
 — this is steeper than the face of Gibraltar ; and let me 
 tell you — hugh ! — you must provide falls and tackle 
 in future, if you^d have me visit here. Forty-three 
 steps ! monstrous ! But who the deuce ! — eh, who 
 is that ? he demanded, halting to take breath as he 
 reached the top, and wiping the perspiration from his 
 face. Who, in the name of all the Malvolios, is he 
 with all those gewgaws under his sporting jacket ? 
 
 Hush,^^ said the light-keeper ; ^^he^s a foreigner. 
 
 Nonsense ! He^s a cockney tailor come down to 
 rusticate — eh ? 
 
 No, sir; he^s an American, and a real Yankee into 
 the bargain. 
 
 A Yankee ! The deuce he is ! 
 
 A native of Ducksville, State of Connecticut.^^ 
 
 Ho, ho ! now I understand y6u ; he’s the Crohan 
 man — cousin, or nephew, or something of that kind, to 
 the Hardwrinkles. Very good ; he’s just the man I want 
 to see ; present me forthwith. Kate wishes to see him 
 too, of all things, and swears she’ll invite him to the 
 castle herself, if I don’t. Introduce me instantly ; I’ll 
 see what he’s like, and then ask him to visit us.” 
 
 0, the young fecamp ! ” exclaimed the light-keeper, 
 laughing ; she’s got some mischief in her mad pate, I 
 warrant you. If the good gentleman only took a friend’s 
 advice, he would stay at home, and keep clear of her 
 company. But, come ; I’ll introduce you, at all haz- 
 ards.” 
 
 Captain Petersham,” said he, taking off his hat, and 
 motioning with the grace of a well-bred gentleman, ^'let 
 me present to you Mr. Weeks, of Ducksville, Connecti- 
 cut, United States. Mr. Weeks, Captain Petersham, of 
 Castle Gregory.” 
 
 The American bowed low, but without saying a word 
 or changing his position in the least. Not so Mr., Peters- 
 ham, who despised in his heart all kind of formality.^ save 
 and except the formalities of the duel ground ; and these 
 he understood well, and could practise to perfection. 
 
 What the plague, man ! ” he exclaimed, don’t be 
 
60 
 
 MAHY LEE, OK 
 
 SO stiff with me. Nonsense ! you^re an American citi- 
 zen, and that’s enough, sir ; give me your hand. Ducks- 
 ville or Drakesville — I don’t care a barle^^-corn what 
 ville you are, so you’re a free American. Come, sir, 
 let us be friends at once, and make no more pother 
 about it.” 
 
 Excuse me. Captain Petersham ; you make a mis- 
 take. My name ain’t Ducksville or Drakesville ; my 
 name is Weeks — Ephraim C. B. Weeks.” 
 
 0, hang the difference, man ! — it’s all the same — 
 what matters it ? Come, let’s join Lee in his office — he’s 
 gone to order some refreshments, and I’m as dry myself 
 as a whistle ; ” and running his arm into the astonished 
 American’s, he dragged him along, speaking all the 
 while with his usual rapidity. Pshaugh 1 it’s all bal- 
 derdash — what’s in a name? — why, man, it don’t sig- 
 nify a straw what you’re called.” 
 
 Well, no, not much, I reckon ; but if it’s just the 
 same to you, I’d rather be called Weeks — Ephraim 
 Weeks. Here’s my card, sir, if you please — ” 
 
 ** Card ! pshaugh — all humbug. Keep your cards, my 
 dear sir, for those foolish enough to use the toities. But 
 if you choose to be called Weeks, I’ll call you Weeks, 
 certainly, sir ; and an excellent name it is for an Amer- 
 ican.” 
 
 Well, it’s sort o’ handy like for a business man.” 
 
 To be sure — to be sure — there’s your secretary of 
 legation, Mr. — Mr. — what the plague I I can never 
 remember names — Mr. — Mr. — 0 confound it — Lin- 
 kimdoodle — or something of that sort, — well, sir, he’s 
 a fine fellow, that Linkimdoodle, a right honest thorough- 
 going republican as I ever met in my life. He has an 
 odd name, to be sure; but what of that? — No one 
 minds it — anything, you know, will do in a country like 
 yours, where you’ve no houses yet, or pedigrees, or 
 things of that description to trouble you. And so you’re 
 staying at Crohan with the Hard wrinkles. Well, I can 
 only say I’m sorry for it — they’ll ruin you, that’s all — 
 ruin you, sir, body and soul.” 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 61 
 
 '' The Hardwrinkles are my cousins, Captain Peters- 
 ham.^^ 
 
 Just so ; I know ; I understand all that — but youTl 
 not be worth a rap farthing, sir, if you stay with them 
 many months longer, notwithstanding.^^ 
 
 You don^t say so I 
 
 I do, sir. TheyTl first reduce you down with psalm 
 singing, till youh’e as flat as dish water and as weak as a 
 wendle straw, and then finish you off with mock piety, 
 private scandal, and weak tea. Take my advice, sir, 
 and stay with them as little as possible. Come up to 
 Castle Gregory, where there^s some life to be had, and 
 come as often as you can, too — weTl be always glad to 
 see you. So then here we are in the light-keeper^ s sanc- 
 tum, and here comes Drake to welcome us. Hands off ! 
 
 — hands off, Drake — down, down, you old rogue ; 
 youh'e as wet as an otter — away, and bring your mis- 
 tress here ; I want to see her. But whaPs the matter ? 
 
 — how now ! growling at your guest ? — ah ! Drake, 
 Drake, that^s inhospitable — what has come over you, 
 man ? never saw you act so un-Irish before. Excuse 
 me, sir ; but take a seat, take a seat, and don’t be sur- 
 prised to see me make so free in another man’s house — 
 it’s our custom here. Heigh-ho I ” he added, flinging 
 himself down in an easy chair, and his gold-banded sea- 
 cap over his shoulder ; 'Mt takes me a full half hour 
 to recover breath after climbing those villanous stens. 
 Heigh-ho ! and so you’re an American citizen.” 
 
 Well, yes ; I have that honor, sir.” 
 
 ''Right, sir, — and it is an honor — no doubt of it. 
 But how warm it is — eh?” and he snatched off his 
 stock and wiped his face with his handkerchief. " It’s 
 those outrageous stairs — eh ! Besides, I’m not feather 
 weight either,. I suppose. Humph ! ” he added, glancing 
 over at his companion, "you have the advantage of me 
 there, sir — you’re thin.” 
 
 "Yes, rather inclined that way,” modestly replied 
 Weeks, playing with his watch-chain. 
 
 6 
 
62 
 
 MARY LEE, OR 
 
 So much the better, sir, so much the better ; you’re 
 in a more comfortable summer condition.” 
 
 Well, as to the Weeks side of the house,” observed 
 the American, by way of explanation, they were never 
 what you might call fleshy people ; but the Bigelows 
 were about the largest boned men in all Connecticut. 
 There was my mother’s cousin, for example, one Nathan 
 Bigelow — ” 
 
 By the lord Harry, he’s at Nathan again 1 ” came 
 rumbling along the hall, in the deep tones of the burly 
 light-keeper, as he hurried in from the tower to welcome 
 his guests. 
 
 Fortunately, however, Mr. Weeks was at that moment 
 in the act of speaking, so that it was quite impossible for 
 him to distinguish the words ; otherwise he had under- 
 stood better the comic smile on Captain Petersham’s face, 
 as that gentleman twirled his thumbs and gazed over at 
 him from his easy chair. 
 
 Let me see ; you’re somewhere about five feet eleven 
 inches — ain’t you ? ” 
 
 Yes, thereabouts.” 
 
 ''Well — now, as to the weight, I reckon you’re two 
 hundred, or chock up to it.” 
 
 "Very likely — I might be three, for aught I know,” 
 replied the captain, laughing. 
 
 " Well, cousin Nathan was taller by nearly two inches, 
 and mother says before he lost his eye on muster day 
 he weighed close on two twenty-five. Still, cousin 
 Nathan — ” 
 
 " Hilloa, there ! hilloa, Roger O’Shaughnessy,” broke 
 in the light-keeper again ; " are we never to see that 
 brandy and water ? Come along, man ; only lift your 
 feet, and they’ll fall themselves.” 
 
 " Ay, ay,” muttered the old man, shambling into the 
 room in his old bottle-green livery with the faded lace 
 and the two solitary buttons, carrying a massive silver 
 salver, on which appeared three tumblers and a decanter 
 with something resembling brandy on the bottom of it. 
 " Ay, ay,” said he, " it’s always the same — just for all 
 
THE YANKEE IN lEELAND. 
 
 63 
 
 the world as if he was at home in the ould castle. 
 Heigh 1 heigh I It^s nothing but Eoger here and Roger 
 there — Roger, bring the venison ; Roger, whereas the 
 champagne ? Roger, whereas the Burgundy ? Roger, 
 order this lord^s carriage, and Roger, order that lady^s 
 barouche. Heigh, heigh, heigh I . Here he was seized 
 by a fit of coughing which had the good effect of termi- 
 nating his catalogue of complaints. Och, och I said 
 he at length, when he recovered a little breath, the 
 Lord be with the time, Captain Petersham, (bowing with 
 great formality to that gentleman,) '‘when Roger had 
 plenty of servants to assist him. But sure there^s no 
 help for it now, and as I burned the candle I must burn 
 the inch ; and the old man turned to quit the room. 
 
 " Stop, Roger ; hold on ; what have you got here ? 
 demanded the light-keeper, holding up the decanter be- 
 tween him and the light. 
 
 " There, sir ? 
 
 "Yes, here, sir; look at it.^^ 
 
 " Why, it^s brandy, av coorse — what else shud it be ? 
 But may be it^s wine, yer honor wants — ugh ! ugh ! — 
 what kind iv wine id you like, sir ? Fll bring it imma- 
 diately.^^ 
 
 " Wine ! you old schemer, you know there^s not a 
 drop of wine in the house. 
 
 " Me ! 
 
 " Ay, you ; you know it well — nor hasnT been these 
 twelve months. 
 
 " Och, och, the Lord luck to us ! ’’ exclaimed Roger, 
 raising his hands in grave astonishment ; " it^s wondher- 
 ful — wondherful, entirely. His mimory^s clane gone, 
 
 sir, (turning to Captain Petersham.) It^s only the mat- 
 ther of four weeks, or so, since we got — let me see — 
 ahem ! ahem ! — two pipes iv claret — one Madeira ; 
 and he began to count them on his fingers — " ahem I 
 two iv claret — one Madeira — one — 
 
 " Bon^t mind him, don^t mind him,^^ said the captain, 
 rising from his easy chair, and good naturedly laying his 
 hand on Roger^s shoulder ; " he’s enough to vex a saint. 
 
64 
 
 MABY LEE, OB 
 
 Well, Roger — let him do as he pleases ; if he choose to 
 refuse us a glass of wine in this beggarly way, why, we 
 can remember it to him — that^s all/^ 
 
 0, my hearths broke wid him, yer honor/^ 
 
 To be sure it is — you^re a living martyr, Roger. I 
 declare, I don^t see how you can stand it — it’s insuffera- 
 ble — quite insufferable.’’ 
 
 Och, och ! I wish to patience he was back in his 
 own ould castle again, yer honor, for since the docthors 
 ordhered him down here for the benefit of his health, 
 there’s no comfort to be had wid him, night or day — 
 but sure, if he didn’t lose his mimory, it wouldn’t be so 
 bad, allthegither. And then I’m shamed out iv my life 
 wid him. Why, if you’d only hear to him, Mr. Peters- 
 ham — ahem I that’s if you were a stranger, you know, 
 sir, like that gentleman, — you’re most obedient, sir, — 
 and didn’t know the differ, ye’d think there wasn’t a 
 screed iv dacency left about him, at all, at all ; ” and as 
 he thus went on to make his private complaints to the 
 captain, still, however, in a voice loud enough to be heard 
 by the American, he kept ever and anon glancing at the 
 great silver salver on the table, as if making a silent ap- 
 peal to it for testimony against his master. 
 
 During this little conversation with Captain Petersham, 
 the light-keeper called him several times, but Roger was 
 too much engaged to attend him. 
 
 Roger ! — are you deaf? Roger! ” 
 
 Sir, sir.” 
 
 Is this all the brandy you have in the house ? An- 
 swer me, yes or no.” 
 
 Ahem ! Answer you yes or no ; why, av coorse I’ll 
 answer you — that is, if I only knew what you mane.” 
 
 Well, look here,” — and Mr. Lee stepped over to 
 the old man, and shook the decanter within an inch of 
 his eyes — '' you call this brandy ? ” 
 
 '' Sartinly, sir, the best cagniac ; it cost just seven — ” 
 Never mind the cost ; you have here about three 
 thimblefuls or thereabouts — for three gentlemen.” 
 
 No, sir, there’s a good half bottle, and more — ahem ! 
 
THE YANKEE IN ICELAND. 
 
 65 
 
 ahem ! it looks little, but it^s on broad bottom ; hem, it^s 
 a broad bottom, sir.^^ 
 
 Well, now, I want to know — if youVe any more of 
 the same left? — that^s plain enough, I think/^ 
 
 ''Why, dear me, such a question! Och, och — and 
 two casks untouched in — 
 
 " Hold your lying tongue and answer me, sir ; have 
 you ? yes or no.^^ 
 
 " Yes, yes, puncheons of it/^ 
 
 "Go fetch it then, forthwith — go now instantly ; 
 and he pushed him gently towards the door. 
 
 " Sartinly, sir, sartinly,^^ replied Roger, moving off as 
 fast as his old, shaky limbs would carry him, the long skirts 
 of his old bottle-green coat oscillating as he went. " Most 
 sartinly, sir ; it^s aisy enough to do that — why, if I only 
 knew what in the world ye were coming at, all the time, 
 rd have it here now.^^ 
 
 " He^s the greatest old plague, that, in the whole uni- 
 verse, said the light-keeper; " not a respectable visitor 
 ever comes to see us, but he acts just in the same way. 
 He would make you believe, Mr. Weeks, — Captain Pe- 
 tersham here knows all about him long ago, — he would 
 make you believe his master as rich as Croesus, and sta3^- 
 ing down here only by advice of his physician. You 
 observed the old bottle-green livery he wears ; well, he 
 has worn that, to my own knowledge, five and twenty 
 years, and in all probability, his father before him, for as 
 many more. As for this antiquated piece of plate on the 
 table, he brings it out on every possible occasion. The 
 old coat and the old salver are in fact his great stand-bys, 
 and with these he imagines he can make a show of ' da- 
 cency,^ were the house as bare and empty as the ruins 
 of Baalbec.^^ 
 
 " Poor Roger,’^ said the captain ; " he’s a regular 
 Caleb Balderstone.” 
 
 " Precisely — the only difference, perhaps — that Caleb 
 was a creation, and Roger a reality.” 
 
 " Balderstone,” said Weeks; "let me see; Balder- 
 6 * 
 
66 
 
 MAKY LEE, OR 
 
 stone — warn^t he something to the Balderstones of 
 Skowhegan, down east ? 
 
 ''Ha, ha ! chuckled Captain Petersham; "can’t 
 
 say as to that.” 
 
 " AVell, them Balderstones of Skowhegan were tre- 
 mendous smart men, I tell you; and cousin Nathan 
 says they fought at Lexington like tigers and cata- 
 mounts,” 
 
 " No, no ; Caleb was of quite another character,” 
 replied the light-keeper. " He was born of a wizard, 
 and shall live as long as the world lasts. Some, indeed, 
 go so far as to say, that he and Campbell’s last man are 
 destined to expire together.” 
 
 " Well, he’s not a mortal, I reckon.” 
 
 " No, sir, he’s immortal as the gods.” 
 
 During this latter part of the conversation, Roger 
 O’Shaughnessy had returned as far as the room door, 
 and remained standing on the threshold, for a minute or 
 more, looking in. In the attitude he assumed he pre- 
 sented a striking appearance. His once tall and power- 
 ful frame, now bent and wasted with years, — the old 
 laced coat hanging from his attenuated shoulders in 
 6mpty folds, — the white hairs that still remained 
 brushed up on each side, and meeting in a crest over his 
 polished scalp, gave him the look of a fine old ruin, tot- 
 tering to its fall, with all its friendly ivy dead in the 
 dust, save a few weak but faithful tendrils clinging fast 
 to it still. 
 
 " Excuse me, Mr. Lee, for interrupting you,” said 
 Weeks, " but the old gentleman here at the door seems 
 to want something.” 
 
 " What ! Roger, — well, Roger, what’s the matter ? ” 
 
 "Ahem!” said Roger, "ahem! about the brandy, 
 your honor.” 
 
 " Well — about the brandy — where is it ? why don’t 
 you bring it in ? ” 
 
 "The key — ahem! the key of the cellar, sir,” said 
 Roger, without venturing to look at his master. 
 
 " What of it? ” 
 
THE YANKEE IN IKELAND. 
 
 67 
 
 Ahem ! It^s not to be found, sir ; you or Miss Mary 
 must have it/^ 
 
 '' Me ! I never touched the key in my life/^ 
 
 Dear me, then, what^s to be done, your honor ? The 
 brandy^s in the cellar, and there^s no key to open it/^ 
 
 '' I don^t believe a word of it ; but did you ask Miss 
 Lee for the key ? 
 
 '' She^s not to be found, either, sir/^ 
 
 ^'Ha, ha! — I thought so. I knew all the time it 
 would come to that at last.^^ 
 
 '' If you could put up for this time with some of the 
 best old Innishowen, that ever was doubled, said Roger, 
 '' you can have a hogshead of it in a jiffey.^^ 
 
 Innishowen ! cried the captain ; and put up with 
 it, too ! Nonsense ! nonsense ! Roger, bring it in here 
 instantly. Why, you old villain, it^s worth its weight in 
 gold. Compare French brandy with Innishowen poteen, 
 indeed I Why, the Irishman who would do that should 
 be sent to the stocks, and physicked with frogs and assa- 
 foetida. Begone, and fetch it instanter. Away ! my 
 timers up.^^ 
 
 Roger soon returned with a bottle of excellent whiskey, 
 of which we must not omit to say, Mr. Weeks declined 
 to partake — nay, absolutely rejected in the most posi- 
 tive manner, as a thing entirely against his principles and 
 habits of life. But the light-keeper and his good neigh- 
 bor, the lord of Castle Gregory, made no pretensions to 
 such principles or habits ; they filled their glasses and 
 drank to each other, and to the success of the Stars and 
 Stripes, as a compliment to Mr. Weeks, in full bumpers of 
 Irish grog, without fear or shame, reproach or remorse. 
 
 Captain Petersham had scarcely finished his draught, 
 and flung the tumbler on the table, loudly protesting 
 against all state temperance laws and teetotal societies, as 
 being the provocation of half the drunkenness in the 
 world, when a sailor, cap in hand, presented himself at 
 the door. 
 
 How now, Bradley — what’s the matter ? ” 
 
 Mr. Ratlin says there’s a blow coming up from the 
 
68 
 
 MARY LEE, OR 
 
 westward, sir, and in half an hour we’ll have ebb tide. 
 He waits orders.” 
 
 ^'Well, get the boat ready. I’ll be with you in a 
 second.” 
 
 He now approached the window, and glanced for an 
 instant at the west. There it comes, Lee,” he ex- 
 claimed, tumbling up in lumps over Tory Island ; you’ll 
 have it whistling about your ears here in half an hour. I 
 must get aboard the Water Hen, and pack on sail, or 
 she’ll not fetch Ballymastocker to-night. But look here ; 
 who’s that under the rock, there, speaking to Mistress 
 Mary ? He’s a devilish fine-looking young fellow, eh ! ” 
 
 The light-keeper hastened to the window. Hah ! by 
 George,” he exclaimed, muttering the words to himself, 
 the instant his eye rested on the person alluded to, '^he 
 is back again.” 
 
 Who is he, Lee — eh? surely I’ve seen that young 
 man before -—who is he ? ” 
 
 Mr. Lee smiled and shook his head. 
 
 ''0, hoh, that’s it, is it? Very well, if there’s any- 
 thing particular about him, keep it to yourself.” 
 
 And having requested Mr. Lee to make his apology to 
 Mary for running away so abruptly, and invited Weeks 
 to visit him as soon as possible, he hurried off, without 
 further delay, to his yacht. The moment his foot touched 
 her deck, she was seen crowding on every stitch of canvas 
 that would draw, and then gracefully bending under the 
 gentle pressure of the evening breeze, the little Water 
 Hen glided up the Swilly, and soon disappeared in the 
 deepening shadows of Eathmullen Bluffs. 
 
 The light-keeper had accompanied his friend to the 
 head of the steps to bid him good by and a fair voyage, 
 and the American, taking advantage of his absence, in- 
 stantly turned to the window, and there kept watching 
 Mary Lee and her companion so intently, and with so 
 absorbing an interest, that old Roger had picked up his 
 silver card case which had fallen from his pocket, and laid 
 it on his knee, without his having noticed it in the least. 
 The spot on which the young couple stood conversing. 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 69 
 
 was a small patch of greensward directly above the nar- 
 row channel called tlie DeviPs Gulch and canopied over 
 by a long, flat, projecting rock. The place was some 
 seventy feet above the roaring water, cut, as it were, in 
 the face of the precipice, and nearly on a level with the 
 window at which the American sat looking at them so 
 intently. The distance between was not more than thirty 
 feet; yet near as it was. Weeks could have distinguished 
 little more than their mere outlines, had not the great 
 lantern, now lit up, shed its flood of light full on their 
 persons, revealing every motion and feature distinctly to 
 his gaze. 
 
 A shade of melancholy overspread the handsome face 
 of the young man as he leaned on the boat hook, (with 
 which he had climbed the rocks,) and conversed with his 
 fair companion. His black, waving hair fell in profusion 
 over his bluejacket, from the breast pockets of which the 
 silver mountings of a brace of travelling pistols glinted 
 in the clear lamplight. His neck was entirely bare, as 
 if the heat of the day, or his previous exertions, had 
 obliged him to remove his cravat, and his whole bearing 
 that of a brave, self-reliant, fearless young fellow, of hon- 
 est heart and ready hand. Mary Lee stood by his side, 
 dressed in her blue kirtle and straw hat, the picture of 
 angelic loveliness. Her face, always smiling before, 
 was now pale and thoughtful, as if the melancholy which 
 shadowed the countenance of her companion had touched 
 her heart. Her petite figure, as she leaned lightly against 
 the rock, her modest eyes bent on the green grass at her 
 feet, her long auburn ringlets falling in showers over her 
 shoulders, and above all, her unaffected simplicity of man- 
 ner, gave her a striking resemblance to those beautiful 
 creatures which Raphael paints in his Espousals of the 
 Virgin. Once or twice she raised her eyes to those of 
 her companion ; but she as often turned them away, as if 
 the sadness of his looks gave her pain. His gestures and 
 motions were those of entreaty ; but she, on her part, 
 appeared to make no reply — save to shake her head and 
 look up sorrowfully in his face. At length the voice of 
 
70 
 
 MABY LEE, OB 
 
 the light-keeper was heard round the house, calling her 
 in from the approaching storm, and she could stay no 
 longer. As the moment of parting came, she drew from 
 her bosom something resembling a medal or locket and 
 chain, and pressing it devoutly to her lips, gently threw 
 it over the young man^s neck. She then gave him her 
 hand, and bidding him farewell, sprang round the edge of 
 the rock with the nimbleness of a fawn, and disappeared 
 in an instant. Her companion followed her with his eyes 
 as long as she remained in sight, and then carefully con- 
 cealing the little treasure in his bosom, slowly turned and 
 left the place. 
 
 '' Well,’^ said Mr. Weeks to himself as he moved over 
 from the window and leaned his elbow on the table beside 
 him, she^s a handsome gal, that — no mistake about it; 
 and that feller looks to be a purty smart kinder chap, too, 
 and not ill lookin either. But who in creation is he ? 
 There^s some mysteiy about him, that^s sartin. I could 
 see that by the light-keeper, when the captain asked his 
 name. But hold on for a bit ; Fll soon learn the secret 
 from Mother Curley. That was some sorter charm, Fll 
 bet .a fourpence, that thing she put round his neck — • 
 some papistry, I reckon. But ain^t she all-fired brazen 
 faced to go up there right straight before the window ? — 
 By cracky, they do up that kinder business sorter strange 
 down here in these diggins — they^re ahead of New Jer- 
 sey; ky a long chalk. But after all, perhaps it^s her 
 favorite retreat, and the feller found her there. She ex- 
 pected him — sartin. I saw that by her face when she 
 came peeking in at the window, and I rather suspect she 
 warn’t aware of Captain Petersham’s arrival either, or 
 that Ephraim Weeks was in the oflSce with her uncle. 
 AVell, she’s handsome — that’s a fact — and with those 
 hundred and fifty thousand dollars I know of to back her 
 up, she’s wife enough for any man. Ha, she little thinks 
 what belongs to her tother side the big pond — and she 
 won’t either — till she’s got her nose up to the hitchin 
 post. She’ll be skittish, I guess, at first ; but Fll take 
 the old woman’s advice, and coax her to it gently. She 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 71 
 
 can only refuse, do her best ; and when she does, why 
 it^s then time enough to put the screws on. They’re 
 poor as poverty, that’s clear, and it won’t be very hard 
 to corner them up in a tight place. A month or two 
 in limbo would settle the old chap’s light-keepin, and 
 then the girl, all-fired proud and all as she is, might be 
 glad — ” 
 
 He was suddenly interrupted in his reflections by the 
 entrance of the two persons in whom he seemed to be so 
 deeply interested. 
 
 '' Here’s an impudent, saucy little baggage, Mr. Weeks, 
 who desires to offer you an apology for her dog’s very 
 bad behavior to-day,” said the light-keeper, leading Mary 
 by the hand. Miss Lee, sir. Mary, this gentleman is 
 Mr. Weeks, of Drakesville, Connecticut, United States.” 
 
 Ducksville, if you please, Mr. Lee, not Drakesville,” 
 said Weeks, after one of his profound inclinations to the 
 young lady ; the difference ain’t much, but still — ” 
 
 0, excuse me, excuse me, sir,” said the light-keeper; 
 
 so it is — I made a mistake — Ducksville, my dear. 
 State of Connecticut.” 
 
 Allow me to offer you my card,” said Weeks, smiling 
 faintly and patronizingly on the young girl, as he drew 
 it slowly out from the silver case. 
 
 Thank you, sir,” she replied, modestly courtesying 
 and accepting the favor, without the least sign of sur- 
 prise at the strangeness of the compliment. 
 
 I regret very much, sir, the loss of your fishing lines 
 this evening,” she said; ‘^but if you permit me, I shall 
 replace them.” 
 
 Pray, don’t mention it,” replied Weeks, interrupting 
 her. You’re exceedingly kind. Miss Lee, but I assure 
 you I have lots of such traps to spare.” 
 
 Drake is a very bold fellow in the water, sir, and 
 don’t mind his mistress in the least, when there’s any 
 thing like game to be seen. But then, he’s so good and 
 faithful that we must forgive him a great many faults. 
 Drake, Drake,” she cried, where are you ? ” and as the 
 brown curly-haired old fellow came in, wagging his tail, 
 
72 
 
 MARY LEE, OR 
 
 she ordered him to kneel down before the gentleman and 
 ask his pardon. But Drake, instead of kneeling, as, no 
 doubt, he was taught to do on such occasions, began to 
 growl at the stranger, and would probably have sprung 
 at him if Mr. Lee had not promptly interposed his au- 
 thority, and commanded him to leave the room. 
 
 *^How very strange ! said Mary, speaking to her 
 uncle ; I never saw him act so rudely before. 
 
 Some kink the old fellow has got in his head. But 
 I fear Mr. Weeks will find his first visit to us down here 
 a very disagreeable one, so many things have conspired 
 to make it so. The loss of his fishing tackle and his fine 
 trout, to boot ; then the absence of the inmates here, and 
 his having to sit so long alone before any one came to 
 bid him welcome ; and finally, the unkind and ungenerous 
 behavior of Drake ; why, upon my word, Mr. Weeks, 
 you must think Araheera light a very barbarous place. 
 
 ^^0, don^t mind — don^t mind; I can get along, I 
 guess, most any where. WeTl make it all right yet. As 
 for the loss of the flies and casting line, I feel quite 
 pleased about it, since it has procured me the acquaint- 
 ance of so lovely and accomplished a young lady as Miss 
 Lee.’^ 
 
 Mary blushed, hung down her head, and tried to say 
 something ; but her confusion at so blunt and unexpected 
 a compliment silenced her completely. The light-keeper, 
 however, came to her assistance. 
 
 If you talk to her in that style, Mr. Weeks, said 
 he, '^youTl play the deuce with her — see, she^s all over 
 blushes already. 
 
 ‘‘We-ell, I generally calculate to speak to the point, 
 Mr. Lee. It was always my habit to be frank with every 
 one, and I can safely say, I should be most willing to lose 
 all the fishing tackle I ever owned, for the pleasure 
 afforded me by this introduction ; she^s a most beautiful 
 and amiable girl, — there^s no mistake about it, — and 
 I^m not ashamed to say so, though you are her uncle. 
 
 Mary, the gentleman v/ill set you crazy, if you stay 
 here much longer — away with you,^^ he added, patting 
 
THE YANKEE IN ICELAND. 
 
 73 
 
 her affectionately on the cheek ; away into some corner, 
 and hide your blushes ; Mr. Weeks will excuse your 
 further presence ; and dropping her hand, he permitted 
 her to shrink back and glide away like a fairy from the 
 room. 
 
 Well, I guess I shariat wait much longer, either, 
 said Weeks, picking up his cap and preparing to leave. 
 
 I see the storm^s coming on, and Fve got somewhat of 
 a walk before me ; but I was just athinkin to come down 
 here once in a while to have a day^s fishin or so, and a 
 talk about the United States, at our leisure/^ 
 
 The light-keeper smiled, and assured him he should be 
 happy to see him at any time, and cheerfully do all in 
 his power to make his visit to the country, and particu- 
 larly to Araheera Head, as agreeable as possible. 
 
 And look^e here,^^ said Weeks, buttoning his coat ; 
 ** if there^s any thing I can do to oblige you, in the way 
 of friendship, don’t hesitate an instant, but tell me right 
 out. It may happen you’d want a friend’s advice, a — 
 well, no matter, you understand me. I’m a single man, 
 Mr. Lee, and have a leetle more at my banker’s, I guess, 
 than I’ve any particular occasion to use. Good after- 
 noon, sir.” 
 
 Good by, and thank you for your good will,” said 
 the light-keeper, somewhat surprised at the stranger’s 
 liberality. I shall most assuredly consult with you, 
 Mr. Weeks, when occasion requires it.” 
 
 I say — hold on! ” said Weeks, again turning back 
 when half way down the avenue ; that bird, you’ll not 
 forget to send it, eh ? — all right ; guess I can get it up 
 for you in pretty good shape.” And waving his hand, 
 he set out on his journey to Crohan, the residence of the 
 Ilardwrinkles. 
 
 7 
 
74 
 
 LEE, OR 
 
 CHAPTER YI. 
 
 Uncle Jerry. — His Character. — The Shipwreck at Bal- 
 lyhernan, 
 
 '' Ha, ha ! very well, I declare ! and so there you are 
 at last! said Uncle Jerry, raising his spectacles to his 
 forehead and peering' at Dr. Camberwell as he entered the 
 room, a few days after the events related in the last chapter. 
 
 Good morning, sir ; how d’ye do?” said the doctor; 
 ** any calls since I left ? ” 
 
 No ; none but Lanty Hanlon,” replied Mr. Gnirkie, 
 pulling down his spectacles again, and resuming his em- 
 ployment ; '' and there’s a mallard wing he brought me,” 
 pointing at it sideways with his eye, '' not worth a brass 
 button.” 
 
 '' Don’t doubt it in the least ; couldn’t expect any thing 
 better.” 
 
 Why — just look at it. Mrs. Motherly’s blue drake 
 out in the yard there has got better feathers for a June 
 trout by all odds.” 
 
 It looks like the wing of a young turkey ; don’t it ? ” 
 
 ** Upon my word it’s a fact — the spots are as big as 
 the point of my thumb, every one of tliem.” 
 
 Well, you’ll find Lanty out yet, some day or other, I 
 suspect,” said the doctor, sitting down on the sofa, ap- 
 parently much fatigued. 
 
 It was about the child he came,” resumed Mr. Guir- 
 kie ; I had almost forgotten it — about that widow’s 
 child down at Ballymastocker.” 
 
 What’s the matter with it ? ” 
 
 The measles.” 
 
 The measles 1 ” 
 
 Yes, and I prescribed in your absence ; so I suppose 
 you’ll scold me for it, eh ? ” 
 
 Scold you I no. Why should I scold you ? Upon 
 my word, you' know quite enough about the profession 
 
THE YANKEE IN IKELAND. 
 
 75 
 
 to turn doctor yourself. And so you prescribed ; — what 
 did you give him ? 
 
 Gin, of course — good Hollands, and to be taken 
 freely.’^ 
 
 Capital; the very best medicine you could order.^^ 
 
 But only at a certain stage of the disease, eh ? 
 
 '' 0, of course, at the incipient stage ! 
 
 ''Very true,^^ said Uncle Jerry ; thaUs just it, pre- 
 cisely ; and he laid down the fly he was dressing to 
 wax a silk thread, whilst he still continued the subject, 
 apparently much interested ; '' that^s exactly the very 
 thing ; taken at the proper time, iCs the very best medi- 
 cine in the world. It saved my life once, in Trinidad, 
 when attacked by the small-pox. 
 
 Possible ? 
 
 Yes, ^ir, and I have invariably recommended it in 
 similar cases ever since. 
 
 ''No other calls ? ’’ 
 
 " None to speak of. That Mr. Weeks was here about 
 his headache, or faceache, or whatever ache you please 
 to call it.^^ 
 
 " Neuralgia, I rather think ; and a pretty troublesome 
 acquaintance it is to get rid of.^^ 
 
 " I declare/^ said Uncle Jerry, snapping the thread 
 which he should have had the patience to cut with the 
 scissors, " I declare and vow, it matters very little wheth- 
 er he ever gets rid of it. He^s but a very poor concern, 
 that same Mr. Weeks. 
 
 " 0, I see you have been disputing again — ha! ha 1 
 "Very well, iPs not my fault if we have. Pm sure 
 I never dispute with any one, if I can help it.^^ 
 
 " No ; but still you manage to do it, notwithstanding.’^ 
 "Never, upon my word and honor,” replied Mr. 
 Guirkie, " except when it’s forced on me. — There, now, 
 that hook’s as blunt as the very beetle ; ” and he flung it 
 pettishly into the grate. — "I can’t sit patiently by, and 
 hear the man still contending that a red hackle is the 
 best in May and June. You wouldn’t expect that, I 
 suppose, eh ? ” 
 
76 
 
 MABY LEE, OB 
 
 must be very unreasonable/^ yawned the doctor, 
 his eyes half closed from fatigue and want of sleep, for 
 he had been up all night. '' Yes, very unreasonable/^ 
 
 It was actually presumptuous, considering all my 
 experience to the contrary. 
 
 The doctor made an effort to open his eyes and nod in 
 reply. 
 
 I tried to reason him out of it. Upon my word, I 
 reasoned with him as mildly as I would with a child ; but 
 you might as well reason with a madman. Why, sir, 
 he^s as wrong-headed as a mule, that man, humble and 
 all as he seems. He^s a cheat, doctor — that’s the whole 
 sum and substance of it.” 
 
 0, well,” said the doctor, rousing himself a little, 
 and speaking in a half irritable, half conciliatory tone, 
 'Met him have his own way; the point, after’ all, is not 
 of vital interest to anybody, I suppose.” 
 
 " No, it’s of no great consequence, I allow,” said 
 Uncle Jerry, raising his spectacles a second time to his 
 forehead, and looking across the table at his companion 
 in a manner more impressive than usual. "No, sir, I ad- 
 mit that freely, but the man is exceedingly presumptuous, 
 — remarkably so, for a stranger, — and I’m much mis- 
 taken, doctor, if you yourself, with all your stoicism, 
 would surrender to such a person without protest. More- 
 over, sir, the gentleman, if he be a gentleman, should 
 avoid provoking me to argument in my own house, where 
 he knows he has me at a disadvantage. I say, doctor, 
 it was very indelicate of him, think what you please 
 about it.” 
 
 " And why do you let the man trouble you at all, if 
 you think so poorly of him ? ” 
 
 "Trouble me! 0, I declare,” exclaimed Uncle Jer- 
 ry, taking off his spectacles at last and pitching them 
 on the table with a very dissatisfied air, for he was 
 evidently disappointed in the little interest his friend 
 seemed to take in the subject. "Trouble me — why, I 
 vow to goodness, he may go to Halifax and fish for scul- 
 pins if he like, for aught I care one way or other. But 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 77 
 
 am I bound to adopt his blunders against both reason and 
 conscience ? am I ? 
 
 By no means ; why should you ? ’’ 
 
 ''Very well, then,^^ replied Mr. Guirkie, "that’s all I 
 want to know; ” and as if there was no more to be said 
 on the subject, he reached over again for the spectacles ; 
 " I know very well,” he added, as he looked through 
 them before he put them on, " I know it’s quite right 
 that every man should choose whatever side of a ques- 
 tion pleases him best ; it’s republican, and has always 
 been my way, and ever shall be as long as I live ; but 
 still I have no hesitation in saying this much, doctor, 
 that it’s morally impossible for the man who never ties a 
 horn on a hare’s ear, because the natural fly don’t wear 
 horns except in July and August ; — I say that the man 
 who maintains that doctrine, never caught better than 
 graws or shiners in his life. That’s precisely what I 
 think of it, and I shall take occasion to tell the gentle- 
 man so at our next meeting.” 
 
 " Shall I bring in the breakfast ? ” said the house- 
 keeper, opening the door softly, and waiting till Uncle 
 Jerry had finished before she interrupted the conversa- 
 tion. 
 
 " The breakfast ! ” repeated the latter, checking at 
 once the current of his thoughts and looking across at 
 the doctor, now fairly a-doze on the sofa. " The break- 
 fast! I declare, that’s a fact: well, now, upon my word, 
 I’m the most selfish, thoughtless man in the world. 
 There he has been out at sick calls all night, and hasn’t 
 had a morsel yet to break his fast. Certainly,” he re- 
 plied, nodding at the housekeeper, " certainly, ma’am, 
 send it in by all means.” 
 
 When the door closed, Mr. Guirkie again resumed his 
 employment, making occasional remarks, now and then, 
 on the quality of the crottel, hare’s ear, tinsel catgut, 
 and the other various requisites for fly-dressing ; and, at 
 length, having finished his task, and put up the materials 
 in their usual place, he came round and touched the sleep- 
 er gently on the shoulder, 
 t * 
 
78 
 
 MARY LEE, OR 
 
 Wake up/^ said he, '' and prepare for breakfast ; it^s 
 just coming in. But how is this, doctor ? Why, dear 
 me ! now that Tm near you, one would think you were 
 after a week^s march in the Indies. I declare, a Sepoy, 
 after a three days’ drill, couldn’t look worse. A tedious 
 case, I suppose.” 
 
 Very,” muttered the doctor ; very bad, indeed.” 
 
 Don’t doubt it in the least ; you look like it.” 
 
 Shocking.” 
 
 I declare ; and it detained you since midnight ? ” 
 
 Yes, I left here a few minutes after twelve, with 
 Father John,” he replied, yawning and rubbing his eyes. 
 
 You heard the dog bark at the time under your cham- 
 ber window, I suppose — I was afraid he might have dis- 
 turbed you.” 
 
 Heard him ! why, he set all the dogs in the parish 
 a-barking, and they didn’t stop for an hour after. I de- 
 clare he’s the most unreasonable animal in that respect I 
 ever heard, at home or abroad. Still, it’s a conscientious 
 matter with him, I suppose, and we shouldn’t blame him. 
 Hah, indeed ! and so it was a very shocking case.” 
 
 Fourteen of a crew cast ashore on Ballyhernan 
 Beach,” said Dr. Camberwell, raising up his sleepy eyes 
 sympathetically to those of his venerable companion. 
 
 Fourteen of a crew ! 0, may the Lord have mercy 
 
 on them ! ” exclaimed Uncle Jerry, in pious astonish- 
 ment. That’s awful.” 
 
 A schooner from New York, bound for Dublin,” con- 
 tinued the doctor. She foundered off Tory Island four 
 days ago. The crew, with the exception of the first 
 mate, who went down with* the vessel, took to the long 
 boat, and after drifting about all that time were at length 
 driven ashore last night on Ballyhernan Strand.” 
 
 May the Lord protect us ! ” exclaimed Uncle Jerry 
 again, slapping his knees with the palms of his hands, 
 and looking terrified at the doctor — all dead ? ” 
 
 No, no, not all. Six of them are still living ; the 
 rest were dead before we reached the shore.” 
 
THE YAIJKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 79 
 
 The Lord have mercy on them/^ 
 
 Were it not for the unwearied attention and devoted 
 charity of Miss Lee, the light-keeper's daughter, I verily 
 believe every soul of them had perished," 
 
 ''Perished! — after reaching the shore — that's terri- 
 ble to think of." 
 
 " Well, under God, she was the principal means of 
 saving their lives." 
 
 " The angel I " 
 
 "Upon my word, I believe she's more of an angel than 
 any thing else." 
 
 " She is one, I tell you — there's no doubt of it what- 
 ever — you can see it in her face." 
 
 " So you have seen her, then. I tliought you had 
 never called at the lighthouse since this new keeper 
 came." 
 
 "Neither have I. 'Twas at the chapel I saw her — 
 and that only for a second or two. She was kneeling 
 before the picture of the Virgin, and I declare, glancing 
 from one to the other, I could hardly tell which was the 
 loveliei*. I have never forgotten that face since for a 
 single day — it haunts me sleeping and waking ; every 
 feature of it seems as familiar as my own." 
 
 " It was really one of the most beautiful sights I ever 
 saw," continued the doctor, " her kneeling there on the 
 cabin floor, administering relief to the poor sufferers. 
 She looked to me the very image of a young Sister of 
 Mercy I used to see long ago, gliding round the sick beds 
 in the Dublin Hospital." 
 
 " So full of piety, and so gentle ! " said Uncle Jerry. 
 
 " Yes, once, as she touched the parched lips of the 
 little cabin boy with a spoonful of wine and water, her 
 tears fell on his face, and it was impossible — " 
 
 " I -know it," said Uncle Jerry ; "it was impossible to 
 look at her, without — hem — without feeling — hem — 
 tliat is, I mean it was very affecting." 
 
 " The warm drops as they fell made him raise his eyes 
 to her face, and then such a look of love and gratitude 
 as he gave her I never saw on human face before." 
 
80 
 
 MARY LEE, OR 
 
 '' It^s the goodness of God, doctor, that sends ns such 
 creatures, now and again, to reconcile us to our miserable 
 humanity. 
 
 Certainly. 
 
 We should otherwise forget our destiny altogether.’^ 
 
 No doubt of it.” 
 
 He scatters them over the dark world, here and 
 there, to brighten and beautify it, as he scatters the stars 
 over the clouded heavens.” 
 
 But to return to the sufferers,” said the doctor, afraid 
 Mr. Guirkie should fly off into one of his rhapsodies ; 
 
 one poor fellow, a negro, was all but dead when I 
 left.” 
 
 Dear me ! all but dead ! ” 
 
 Yes, and had seven of his toes broken besides.” 
 
 Lord save us ! — seven toes broken ! — that’s fright- 
 ful — seven toes ! ” 
 
 Four on one foot and three on the other.” 
 
 Most shocking ! — and what makes it still worse, 
 he’s of the despised race; but the rest — where are 
 they ? ” 
 
 In the cabin.” 
 
 What ! — all huddled up together, the living with 
 the dead ? ” 
 
 Why, there was no other place to put them — no 
 house, you know, within a mile of the strand.” 
 
 0, no ! of course not ; why should there ? ” exclaimed 
 Uncle Jerry, not a little irritated at the disappointment. 
 
 Why should there ? No, no, there’s never anything 
 where it ought to be, sir. I believe in my soul, sir, if 
 there had been a house there, not a shipwreck would 
 have happened within leagues of it.” 
 
 Don’t doubt it in the least,” assentea the doctor. 
 
 Cross purposes, sir ; that’s it, cross purposes — 
 every thing in creation pulling against every other thing. 
 It’s outrageous, sir — no house there, where of all places 
 in the world it ought to be — I declare to my conscience 
 it’s insufferable.” 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 81 
 
 I know it/^ said the doctor; it^s too bad, to be 
 sure, but so it chances to be.^^ 
 
 ''Chances! nonsense! — there's no such thing as 
 chance — don^t believe in that.^^ And, clasping his 
 hands round his knee, he lifted up his little leg, and com- 
 menced rocking away in his chair — a habit he had when 
 any thing troubled him. He asked no more questions 
 either ; what he heard already supplied him with materials 
 enough for a picture — and he drew it, and gazed at it, 
 till the tears fell in big drops on the carpet. He saw the 
 poor wrecked sailors, stretched on the damp floor of the 
 warren-keeper^ s hut, as plainly as if he had been there 
 in person standing over them. 
 
 " Well, there^s no use in fretting about it,^^ ho said, at 
 length, letting his leg fall, and looking out at the rain 
 pattering against the window panes ; "it can’t be helped, 
 I suppose. They’ll die, every soul of them, for want of 
 good fresh air and kindly treatment. I know they will. 
 Can nothing be done ? I wish to Heaven I was there 
 myself ; but where’s the use of wishing ? The doctor 
 would never consent to it in such a storm as this. So 
 here, then, I must wait patiently, and make the best of 
 it. As for that negro, he’ll die ; there’s no doubt of it 
 in this world : he’ll die, just because he is a negro, and 
 no one to care for him. As for Mary Lee, she may be a 
 tender-hearted, gentle creature as ever lived, and no one 
 who ever saw her once could think otherwise ; but she’s a 
 timid, fawny thing, and won’t venture near enough to 
 wet his lips with a spoonful of sangaree, or whisper a 
 word in his ear, to keep his heart from sinking. Ay, 
 that’s the effect of a black skin — always, always. It 
 was just so in St. Domingo and Alabama, and all over 
 the world. But never mind, never mind ; there’s a good 
 time coming. It won’t be so in heaven ; ” and Mr. 
 Guirkie rubbed his hands smartly together, and chuckled 
 at the thought ; " no, no ; that’s one comfort, at least ; it 
 won’t be so in heaven.” 
 
 " Why, dear me ! there’s the doctor fast asleep ! ” ex- 
 claimed the housekeeper, laying down the tray with the 
 
82 
 
 MARY LEE, OR 
 
 breakfast on the table. '' Please wake him up, Mr. 
 Guirkie ; he needs some refreshment, and should take 
 it hot.’^ 
 
 ''Never mind him;^^ replied Uncle Jerry, "never mind 
 him. Go away, Mrs. Motherly, if you please, and don^t 
 jar the door. 1^11 wake him the next time he turns 
 over ; and, wiping his spectacles with the tail of his 
 morning gown, he commenced reading a newspaper that 
 lay on the table. 
 
 Now, it happened the paper was a week old or more, 
 and Mr. Guirkie had read it over, advertisements and all, 
 a good half dozen times already. For being the only 
 paper taken at the cottage, he always tried, as he said 
 himself, to make the most of it. It was not, therefore, 
 with a view either to entertainment or information that 
 he snapped it up so suddenly as he did, but merely to 
 divert his mind from thinking of the wrecked sailors, and 
 particularly the negro with the broken toes. Mr. Guirkie, 
 as the reader may have suspected, was gentle and full of 
 tender s^^mpathies, and when a case with any thing pecu- 
 liarly melancholy in it, like the one in question, chanced 
 to get hold of his heart, he never could manage very well 
 to shake it out of it. It was only then, with the desper- 
 ate hope of excluding from his imagination the picture he 
 had drawn so vividly but a few minutes before, that he 
 clutched the paper so vigorously between his hands and 
 ran his eye so rapidly over the print. It happened, how- 
 ever, notwithstanding the effort he made, that his success 
 was by no means complete, for he soon began a sort of 
 low, dry whistle, without tune or music in it, and evidently 
 intended to help the newspaper. When he had read down 
 half a column or more with this accompaniment, he found 
 it, as he always found it before, to be a total failure, and 
 that, do what he would, the picture kept always breaking 
 in upon him. At last, unable to resist any longer, he 
 flung the newspaper on the floor, and starting up in a 
 sort of desperation, paced up and down the room, his 
 slippers clattering the while against his heels, and his 
 hands as usual clasped behind his back. 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 83 
 
 Mr. Guirkie/^ said the housekeeper, opening the 
 door gently. 
 
 What/’ said Mr. Guirkie, turning on his step, and 
 throwing up his spectacles from his forehead till they 
 were lost in his bushy, gray hair ; what’s the matter ? ” 
 Lanty Hanlon’s come for more of that medicine, sir, 
 and says the child’s doin bravely ; and, sir, he brought 
 ye the other wing of the wild duck.” 
 
 ''Mrs. Motherly,” said Uncle Jerry, approaching the 
 door, and drawing himself primly up, " I’m engaged, 
 ma’am.” 
 
 " Yes, sir, but — ” 
 
 " Well, but, ma’am. I’ll have no buts ; I’m not to be 
 imposed on. That fellow has had more gin already than 
 would cure half the parish ; quit the room, if 3 ^ou please, 
 and tell that scoundrel to quit the house.” 
 
 Again Mr. Guirkie turned to the window, and locked 
 out on the stormy sky, muttering to himself all the while 
 in short, ejaculatory sentences. At first they were low 
 and hollow, but grew more audible in proportion as the 
 picture before his mind’s eye grew darker. 
 
 " 0, nonsense ! ” said he at last. " Nonsense ! non- 
 sense ! there’s no use whatever in attempting it. And 
 what’s more, there never was any use. It was just so 
 always, just the same old story over and over again ; and 
 I verily believe I’m a greater fool now than I was twenty 
 years ago. Last week I couldn’t rest till I saw that 
 distressed widow, just as if it were my business to con- 
 sole widows — just as if it ought to concern me a copper 
 whether her landlord ejected her gr not. But the ex- 
 planation of it all is, Mr. Jeremiah Guirkie, — since that’s 
 the name you like to go by, — the explanation of it all^ 
 is, that you’re an incorrigible simpleton. Yes, sir, that’s 
 the short and long of it. And I saw that very word, 
 last Friday, on the doctor’s lips, when I gave Lanty the 
 half crown for the hackle, as plain as the light there, 
 only he didn’t let it drop. Well, he thought so, of course ; 
 why shouldn’t he ? Forever meddling with other people’s 
 business, and neglecting my own. And now, here comes 
 
84 
 
 MARY LEE, OR 
 
 this shipwreck just at the heels of the Weeks affair to 
 worry me again. Well, all we can say about it is, let 
 the negro die — why not ? he^s not the first that died 
 neglected. And why should it concern you ? he con- 
 tinued, stopping short and looking at himself in the 
 mirror above the mantel; ''why should it concern 
 you, sir, one way or other ? Psaugh 1 YoiPre mighty 
 charitable, ar’n^t you ? Take a friend^s advice, sir, and 
 mind your own business : youHl have plenty to do ; ay, 
 and if the truth were told, more than ever you did do in 
 your life, sir. Of all the people in the world, sir, youYe 
 not the very man expected to keep life in these sailors, 
 or solder new toes on that unfortunate negro. 
 
 Here the soliloquy was interrupted by the doctor 
 speaking in his sleep. Mr. Guirkie turned his head 
 slowly around, and stood in a twisted position for a 
 second or two, looking at the dreamer, and waiting to 
 catch the next words. There was a wonderful deal of 
 benevolence in his face as it thus appeared in profile. 
 The little round blue eyes, so full of soft and gentle 
 expression — an expression which his recent effort to 
 steel his heart against the influence of pity had not abated 
 in the least ; the small mouth, with the corners turned 
 slightly up, like Uncle Toby^s when listening to Corporal 
 Trim ; the smooth, un wrinkled, rosy cheeks ; and stiff 
 gray hair standing on end, — all tended to convince the 
 beholder of Mr. Guirkie^s eccentric habits and kindly 
 nature. 
 
 Again the doctor muttered something, and then Mr. 
 Guirkie moved gently jover, and bent his head down to 
 catch the words. 
 
 " The negro ! the negro ! said the sleeper. 
 
 " ThaPs it ^ — the negro, of course, repeated Uncle 
 Jerry. "He must die — that^s what you mean.^^ 
 
 " Mary Lee,^^ continued the dreamer, " warm blankets ! 
 — the decoction ! and abruptly turning on his side, he 
 concluded with a groan that told how fatigued he was 
 after the labors of the previous night. 
 
 " Very well,^^ said Mr. Guirkie, kicking off his slippers. 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 85 
 
 that puts an end to it. I have no longer a shadow of 
 doubt about my obligations. It^s evidently my duty to 
 go down and visit them. That^s as plain as the sun, 
 and the doctor’s dream is clearly providential ; ” and so, 
 sitting down on the chair, he put on his shoes, and then 
 drew over his leggings from the footstool. As for the 
 rain,” he continued, looking out of the window, I don’t 
 care a farthing about it, one way or other. Neither the 
 heat of the Indies nor the cold of the Canadas has taken 
 a feather out of me yet. I’m just as good for all practical 
 purposes as I ever was. To be sure it rains and blows 
 hard and fast ; but I am no sugar loaf to melt in the rain, 
 nor a jack straw to be blown away with the wind.” 
 
 Talking in this strain, he put on his leggings. But he 
 put them on, as he always did, in a very careless, slovenly 
 sort of way — omitting a button here and a button there 
 on his way up to the knees. This time especially he was 
 in somewhat of a hurry, and his thoughts had nothing 
 whatever to do with the buttons. Next he opened his 
 desk as silently as possible, and took out what seemed to 
 be a pocket book, looking round stealthily at the doctor 
 as he secured it under his vest, and finally retired to 
 his chamber to don his seal skin cap and drab surtout 
 with the double cape, a riding dress he never laid aside 
 summer or winter, and from which no one in the neigh- 
 borhood ever thought of dissociating the idea of Uncle 
 Jerry Guirkie. These hasty preparations concluded, he 
 stepped on tiptoe from the parlor, and closed the door 
 noiselessly behind him, leaving the doctor sleeping 
 soundly on the sofa, and the breakfast cooling beside 
 him on the table. 
 
 On reaching the housekeeper’s door, however, great as 
 his hurry was, he paused and seemed to deliberate. He 
 was thinking whether he should apprise her of his intended 
 journey, or steal out unobserved. There was danger both 
 ways. If he told her, she might wake up the doctor and 
 detain him ; if he did not, his absence in such stormy 
 weather might occasion alarm for his safety. Three or 
 four times he coughed and hemmed slightly at the 
 8 
 
86 
 
 MAKY LEE, OR 
 
 threshold, bringing his knuckle each time within an inch of 
 the door, but as often drawing it back. At length, how- 
 ever, the fear of giving* alarm predominated, and sum- 
 moning courage, he knocked — but it was a knock in 
 which there was no sign of authority — or rather it was 
 the gentle tap of a child coming to beg alms at a gentle- 
 man^s back door. 
 
 Mrs. Motherly ! said he, putting his lips to the 
 key-hole and speaking under his breath, Mrs. Moth- 
 erly ! Tm going out a little ; but you needn^t disturb 
 yourself. I don’t require your services in the least — 
 not in any possible way whatever.” 
 
 But Mrs Motherly knew better. She had lived now 
 nearly five years in the family, and understood Mr. Guirkie 
 well, and all about him. Her long residence and her well- 
 known fidelity gave her a respectable claim on his con- 
 sideration, which indeed, however inconvenient he often 
 found it, he never failed to acknowledge. For a long time 
 after she came into the family, Mrs. Motherly kept con- 
 tinually remonstrating with Mr. Guirkie on his foolish 
 ways, as she loved to call them, and frequently, when 
 provoked, would venture even to scold him sharply, but 
 still in a respectful and affectionate manner — sometimes 
 for his reckless neglect of his health, sometimes for 
 spending his money on objects undeserving of charity, 
 (for Uncle Jerry had the habit of slipping a sixpence 
 now and again to the beggars whom Mrs. Motherly 
 thought it her duty to drive from the door,) but most 
 of all for his inveterate disregard of his dress and per- 
 sonal appearance. Of late years, however, she had given 
 him up in despair, relinquishing all hopes of ever being 
 able to correct him, and came at last to the wise conclu- 
 sion that destined as she was to remain a fixture in the 
 place, wh}^ like a prudent woman, she would let him 
 have his own way, and try to do the best she could 
 for him. Still there was one little peculiarity in Mr. 
 Guirkie’s conduct, especially for the last year or so, 
 which Mrs. Motherly sometimes found it rather hard to 
 put up with ; and that wasj his want of regard for her 
 
THE YANKEE IN IKELAND. 
 
 87 
 
 feelings in presence of third parties — the doctor of 
 course excepted ; this was particularly the case when 
 company happened to be at the house, or when he 
 chanced to come across her any where beyond the walls 
 of the cottage. Alone with her at home, he was as 
 tractable as a child ; for the fact was, — and it may as 
 well be told now as again, — the fact was, he feared 
 Mrs. Motherly. It’s no doubt a lamentable admission, 
 but not the less true for all that. And the reason was 
 clear : Mrs. Motherly was a woman of such excellent 
 qualities in her way, that Uncle Jerry could not help 
 entertaining a great respect for her ; then she took such 
 a lively interest in his affairs that he felt she had a good 
 right to his confidence, and he yielded it accordingly ; 
 and last of all, with all her humility she had such force 
 of character, that he generally found it easier to submit 
 than quarrel with her. Whether our readers of the 
 sterner sex — and we write down the word sex in order 
 to save it from growing entirely obsolete — whether 
 they shall ever agree to adopt Mr. Guirkie^s rule of con- 
 duct in this respect as the safest and the wisest is more 
 than we dare predict ; still, vre might venture to say, 
 judging from the present aspect of things, and making 
 all necessary allowance for the progressive spirit of the 
 age, that such a revolution in the ordinary relations 
 of life would not, after all, be so very extraordinary an 
 event. 
 
 In the house, and alone with Mrs. Motherly, Uncle 
 Jerry, as we have said already, was generally as tract- 
 able as a child. He would turn back at her bidding, 
 were his very foot in the stirrup, and sit down to let 
 her sew a button on his shirt or tie a more becoming 
 knot on his cravat — nay, sometimes, when hard pressed, 
 would hand her his purse for safe keeping — a precau- 
 tion, by the way, she generally took when she suspected 
 him of going up to the Blind Fiddler^s in the Cairn, or 
 down to the widow with the three twins at Bally mastocker. 
 From home, however, or in presence of strangers, he 
 was quite another man. On such occasions, his whole 
 
88 
 
 MARY LEE, OR 
 
 bearing towards her underwent a change. He would 
 draw himself up to the very highest stretch of his dig- 
 nity, address her in a dictatorial tone, and otherwise 
 deport himself towards her as if he regarded her in no 
 other light than that of an ordinary waiting woman. 
 When any one about the table chanced to make hon- 
 orable mention of Mrs. Motherly, — which indeed those 
 who were aware of Uncle Jerry^s little weakness often did 
 to plague him, — it was amusing to see how the old man 
 would pout his lips, throw himself back, and admit, with 
 a patronizing air, that she was — really was an honest, 
 trustworthy servant — had her little whims, to be sure, 
 as every one had — but, nevertheless, was a right trusty 
 and obedient housekeeper. 
 
 This change in Mr. Guirkie^s conduct towards her, 
 Mrs. Motherly was a long time unable to account for, 
 and the anxiety she felt about the cause of it was far 
 more painful to her than the thing itself. The secret of 
 all was, however, — and the reader must be told it by all 
 means, — the secret was, that Uncle Jerry’s friends 
 were in the habit of plaguing him about Mrs. Motherly ; 
 that is to say, about certain little leanings in that direc- 
 tion. They made no direct, specific charges — not one 
 — but kept forever indulging in sly winks and innuendoes, 
 which mortified the poor man much more than plain, 
 downright accusations. Amongst these friends, Mr. 
 Thomas Petersham, or Captain Tom Petersham, as he was 
 generally called, held a conspicuous place. The captain, 
 as the reader may have seen already, was a good natured, 
 jolly sort of a man as one might care to meet with 
 any where. He cracked a good joke, rode a good horse, 
 kept a good table, sang a good song, sailed the fastest 
 yacht between Fanit Point and the Skerries, and never 
 looked or felt happier in his life than when he had Uncle 
 Jerry at his elbow to hob-nob with him after dinner. 
 This gentleman had so often plagued Mr. Guirkie, — and 
 he did it in a quiet, provoking way too, his eyes spar- 
 kling the while with the spirit of the grape and mischief 
 together, — that the good little man at last thought it 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 89 
 
 prudent to assume a cold and distant reserve towards his 
 respectable housekeeper in the presence of strangers, in 
 order, we suppose, to offset disagreeable suspicions. 
 Now, of all men in the world, Mr. Guirkie would be the 
 last to think of such an attachment The thing was en- 
 tirely out of the course of his thoughts ; or if the idea 
 ever could by any chance cross his mind, he would, very 
 probably, walk up to the looking-glass, and laugh him- 
 self out of countenance for entertaining it for an instant. 
 He was now sixty years of age, but as hale and hearty 
 as he was at twenty-five — a wealthy, happy old bach- 
 elor, who had travelled half the world over — been in all 
 sorts of society — studied men and books till he grew 
 tired of both, and at last settled down quietly at Green- 
 mount, resolved to spend the remainder of his days and 
 his money as far away from city life as possible, with- 
 out the remotest idea of ever changing his condition 
 of life. 
 
 As for Mrs. Motherly, poor soul ! if the thought of a 
 nearer or holier relation between them than that of an 
 honest, faithful servant to a kind, indulgent master, ever 
 did enter her mind, why, it wasn^t so much to be 
 wondered at, after all. She never looked on herself as 
 an ordinary house servant. She was above that,' both 
 by early education and household accomplishments, and 
 she knew it ; and every one else knew it just as well, the 
 moment she made her appearance. It was as plain as 
 the alphabet. Her clean white apron, her neat, well 
 plaited cap, her bunch of polished keys at her girdle, 
 and above all, her intelligent, respectable countenance, 
 bespoke at once her authority and the right she had to 
 exercise it. And so Uncle Jerry and Mrs. Motherly 
 lived very happily together, each well satisfied with the 
 other, the latter yielding a reasonable obedience, and the 
 former exercising a reasonable authority. If any thing 
 ever did happen, once in a long time, to create a little dry- 
 ness between them, it was sure to be that unfortunate 
 habit he had of treating her unkindly before company. In 
 vain did she try to shame him out of it, when she had 
 8 * 
 
90 
 
 MARY LEE, OR 
 
 him to herself all alone of a quiet evening after tea — he 
 with his flies and she with her stocking sitting cosily to- 
 gether ; in vain did she draw on his nice sense of pro- 
 priety to rebuke him, — nay, sometimes, when more than 
 commonly provoked, actually charge him to his face with 
 having taken an ungentlemanly advantage of her posi- 
 tion to mortify her. All was in vain. To every com- 
 plaint she made on that head. Uncle Jerry, turning away 
 his face to hide his confusion, and making many a hem 
 and hah, to clear his throat, would invariably acknowledge 
 that it might appear strange, but he had his own reasons 
 for it. This, indeed, was all the explanation he ever 
 gave, and do what she would, all Mrs. Motherly could 
 ever get out of him. But to return. 
 
 Mrs. Motherly/^ whispered Uncle Jerry through the 
 key-hole ; Mrs. Motheiiy,^^ he repeated in a hard 
 under-breath, Fm going out a little, but you needu^t 
 trouble yourself in the least about it ; and please tell 
 the doctor, when he wakes, that Fll return presently. 
 
 But the good woman turiied the key in the lock before 
 he had quite done speaking, and presented herself be- 
 fore him, her left hand pressed against her plump side, 
 and a look of astonishment, half affected, half real, 
 pictured in her face. 
 
 Uncle Jerry raised himself suddenly up from his 
 stooping posture, and gazed at Mrs. Motherly without 
 saying a word. 
 
 Well,^^ at length said the latter, breaking silence, 
 what^s the matter ? 
 
 Why ! responded Mr. Guirkie, what is the mat- 
 ter? IFs no harm to go out, I suppose. 
 
 No, but what does it mean ? inquired the matron, 
 surveying the diminutive figure of Mr. Guirkie from head 
 to foot ; what does it mean, in such weather as this ? 
 
 Well, that^s it ; it may look a little odd, to be sure, 
 but I can^t help it.^^ 
 
 Why, good gracious, look at the rain streaming 
 down the window. Is it crazy ye are, to venture out in 
 such a hurricane ? 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 91 
 
 ** 0, Ws not so bad as that, Mrs. Motherly.^' 
 
 Bad ! — it^s a downright waterspout. 
 
 Well, never mind — it won’t signify. I’ll return as 
 soon as possible.” 
 
 And where, may I ask, sir, do you propose to go ? ” 
 
 ^^Go? ” 
 
 Yes ; it can’t surely be any thing less than life and 
 death that’d bring you out such a day as this, after the 
 racking cough you had yesterday.” 
 
 Well, that’s just it,” replied Uncle Jerry — it’s a 
 very serious affair ; but you need feel no concern about 
 my catching cold. I’m now very prudent, I assure you, 
 in that respect ; ” and he buttoned another button in the 
 breast of his coat. 
 
 Prudent ! the Lord be about us, and save us ; just 
 listen to that ! Well, may I never do harm, if that don’t 
 beat Banagher out and out. Prudent, humph ! were you 
 prudent when you gave your new under-coat to the Blind 
 Fiddler last week, and came home to me shivering, like 
 an old pensioner in an ague fit — were you ? ” 
 
 Hush ! hush! — you needn’t speak so loud, Mrs. 
 Motherly,” he replied, glancing at the parlor door ; '' I 
 acknowledge I was wrong in that instance.” 
 
 And were you prudent when you gave the five 
 shilling piece to that villain of an old soldier, Manus 
 McGillaway, till he got drunk and stole six of my 
 geese, that the like of them weren’t to be seen in the 
 parish.” 
 
 '' And how could I foresee — ” 
 
 Yes, sir, but you did, though ; you knew in your 
 heart and soul he was a thief, and especially when he got 
 drunk, that nothing was too hot or heavy for him. 
 You knew that well, sir. And what’s more, Mr. 
 Guirkie, you encourage the villain in his thievery, to 
 my own knowledge.” 
 
 I encourage him ? ” 
 
 ** Yes, sir, you. When Captain Petersham sent him 
 that wet day last week for his coat to Castle Gregory, 
 with a token to his sister, it was six bottles of brandy he 
 
92 
 
 MAEY LEE, OR 
 
 asked for, instead of the coat, and you gave him a 
 shilling out of your own very fingers, for playing the 
 trick 
 
 I declare ! exclaimed Uncle Jerry again, after a 
 momenUs reflection ; I believe I must admit — 
 
 0, admit — you^re very good at admissions ; but 
 whereas the use of them ? Ar’n^t you just as bad as 
 ever, after all your promises and admissions ? God help 
 me, any way ; my hearths broke with you ; so it is/^ 
 
 Indeed/^ replied Uncle Jerry, tapping his lips with 
 the but of his riding whip, and looking as crest-fallen as 
 a boy caught stealing apples, ^Gndeed, it’s nothing but 
 the truth ; I’m very troublesome, I suppose, to every 
 body I have any dealings with. But you’ll excuse me, 
 Mrs. Motherly ; it’s time I was gone, if I mean to go at 
 all ; ” and he began to sidle off towards the hall door. 
 
 Stop,” cried Mrs. Motherly, as he lifted the latch ; 
 you’re not going out that way, are you ? ” 
 
 ‘‘ What wa}^ ? ” 
 
 Why, look at your leggings.” 
 
 ‘‘ My leggings ! ” 
 
 Yes, don’t you see you’ve buttoned them on the 
 wrong legs ! ” 
 
 That’s nonsense I — the wrong legs ! ” 
 
 Nonsense or not, it’s the fact, nevertheless ; the 
 tongues are both on the inside, and the buttons too.” 
 
 'MYell, I declare,” said Uncle Jerry, turning his little 
 leg round and round, as if seeking for some pretext on 
 which to justify the blunder; I declare,” he repeated, 
 I declare upon my word and honor, it’s very strange, 
 but surely I must have been asleep, when I put them 
 on.” 
 
 0, you needn’t be trying to make any excuses about 
 it — it’s just of a piece with all the rest,” said Mrs. Moth- 
 erly, handing him a chair to sit on, while she knelt down 
 to adjust the difficulty; ''that’s the first time you but- 
 toned your own leggings these five years,” she continued, 
 and you buttoned them wrong. It ought to be a les- 
 
THE YANKEE IN IKELAND. 
 
 93 
 
 son to you, Mr. Guirkie ; it ought to teach you that you 
 can do nothing right. 
 
 “ Well/^ replied Mr. Guirkie, with a little more irrita- 
 tion in the tone of his voice than usual, '' I^m not so par- 
 ticular about the buttons, perhaps, as I ought to be ; but 
 it’s only a small matter after all — make your best of it.” 
 
 Small matter, indeed ! I would like to know what 
 part of your dress you’re particular about, large or 
 small.” 
 
 '' Hush, Mrs. Motherly, hush, I say, or you’ll wake 
 the doctor.” 
 
 I’ll not hush, sir ; I can’t hush ; I’m responsible for 
 you, and I must speak.” 
 
 And can’t you speak without raising the town ? ” 
 said Mr. Guirkie, slapping his sealskin cap down on his 
 knees, and scratching his gray head in utter perplexity ; 
 
 can’t you speak with some sort of moderation, ma’am? ” 
 
 No, I can’t, for you won’t let me — but no matter ; 
 you may go — you may go, sir,” she continued, rising 
 from her kneeling posture, and shaking both hands at 
 him, as if she would shake herself clean and clear of him 
 forevermore. You may go — I’ll not be accountable 
 for you any longer — not another hour, sir ; and if you 
 come back dead to us, don’t blame any one for it but 
 yourself” 
 
 Mr. Guirkie lost not a moment in quitting the house, 
 as soon as Mrs. Motherly withdrew her opposition, but 
 rushed out through the rain, ambling his way, as fast as 
 his legs would carry him, to the stable, and mounted 
 Scotchy, already saddled and bridled for a journey. 
 
 Hardly, however, had he got his foot in the stirrup, 
 when Mrs. Motherly, accompanied by Dr. Camberwell, 
 whom she had just waked up, came running out to de- 
 tain him. 
 
 But it was too late ; Uncle Jerry was already in the 
 saddle, and in the act of gathering up the reins. 
 
 Let him go,” he cried, as he saw the doctor ap- 
 proaching under an umbrella, bare-headed, and blear-eyed 
 for want of sleep ; let the horse go, you scoundrel, let 
 
MARY LEE, OR 
 
 94 
 
 him go; and giving Scotchy a cut on the flank, off he 
 trotted down the avenue’ towards Ballyhernan Beach, the 
 rain pouring on him in torrents, and the cape of his drab 
 surtout flapping about his ears. 
 
 ^'May the Lord pity you, poor man,^^ exclaimed Mrs. 
 Motherly, gazing after him till he turned the corner ; 
 '' may the Lord pity you.^^ 
 
 '' Amen,^^ said the doctor, closing his umbrella at the 
 door, and retreating backwards into the house ; he^s 
 an extraordinary individual. 
 
THE YANKEE IN lEELAND. 
 
 95 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Mr, Weeks begins to think Ireland not so very green a 
 
 Country after ally and rather unsafe for 3Iatrimonial 
 
 Speculations, 
 
 Quitting the lighthouse, apparently well pleased with 
 his visit, Mr. Weeks threw his broken fishing rod on his 
 shoulder, and set out for Crohan with as much speed as 
 his long, shambling limbs and slow habits would admit 
 of. It being already dark, and the distance he had to 
 walk some four good Irish miles, and that over rough, 
 mountainous roads, he resolved to travel somewhat faster 
 than usual, in order to reach Crohan before the family 
 retired to rest. 
 
 And here it should be remarked, that the Hardwrin- 
 kle family was a very grave and orderly family; a family, 
 in fact, guided by rule in every thing. They never sat 
 up later than nine o^clock, on any occasion whatever. 
 Even the night of Mr. Weekses arrival, as soon as the 
 deep-toned clock in the great hall struck the appointed 
 hour, the seven sisters, in the order of seniority, rose 
 up each in their turn, and approaching their American 
 cousin, bade him good night with a gravity of deport- 
 ment that well became the high reputation they had long 
 acquired throughout the parish for unostentatious piety 
 and evangelical perfection. 
 
 This strict mode of living was by no means new to 
 Mr. Weeks, for he was bred and born in the land of 
 steady habits himself, and therefore could welP under^ 
 stand the value his cousins set upon that particular fam- 
 ily regulation. This consideration, added to the danger 
 of being caught in the approaching storm amongst the 
 wild gorges of Benraven, prompted him to tax his phys- 
 ical energies a little more freely than usual. 
 
 He had not proceeded very far, however, on his jour- 
 ney, when he found his rapid pace suddenly checked by 
 
96 
 
 MAKY LEE, OR 
 
 a tall, muffled figure, that rose up before him on the 
 road, and commanded him to stop. 
 
 Who^s there ? demanded Weeks, coming to a dead 
 
 halt. 
 
 A friend. 
 
 What friend — Else Curley ? 
 
 '' Ay,’^ said the old woman, wrapping her gray cloak 
 round her head and shoulders, and advancing from the 
 rock where she had been sitting to the middle of the 
 road. Ay, it^s me. I stepped down to meet ye at 
 yer up comin, to hear the news. Hem ! what^s the 
 good word, sir ? 
 
 Why, alPs about right there, I guess, responded 
 Weeks, grounding his fishing rod, and resting his hands 
 on the end of it. 
 
 Plazed with your visit, I hope.^^ 
 
 Well, yes — got along pretty slick. 
 
 Ye seen her ? 
 
 Well, can^t say I saw much of her to speak of.^^ 
 
 But ye think shedl suit ye, any way ? ’’ 
 
 'Wes, reckon so ; she^s handsome enough, but kinder 
 skittish, I guess. 
 
 " 0, av coorse ; what else could ye expect at the first 
 goin off? 
 
 "No, that’s all right. Irish girls are generally some- 
 what shy at the beginning. But I’ve no fear we’ll 
 bring her up to the hitchin post yet.” 
 
 "Humph!” ejaculated Else, "don’t be too sure o’ 
 that. Eemember she has the ould blood in her veins.” 
 
 " Psaugh I humbug 1 old blood ! ” 
 
 " Ye don’t believe in that.” 
 
 " Not I ; it’s all sheer gammon.” 
 
 "Humph ! see that now ! E’then, sure we poor cra- 
 thurs down there always heerd it said that the blood of 
 the Talbots was as hard to tame as the blood of the 
 aigles.” 
 
 " The Talbots ? ” 
 
 "Ay.” 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 97 
 
 And who are they ? demanded Weeks, looking 
 sharply in the old woman^s face. 
 
 The Talbots — wh}^, musha, thin, did ye niver hear 
 tell i^ the Talbots ? said Else, eying him with a very 
 equivocal expression of countenance. 
 
 No — donT remember exactly. 
 
 ''Hoot! jog yer mimery a bit — the name^s not so 
 mighty scarce that ye niver heerd it afore. But no mat- 
 ter ; time enough to speak o^ thim things whin weh-e bet- 
 ther acquint.^^ 
 
 " Them things, repeated Weeks ; " what things ? By 
 golly, youh’e quite mysterious this evening, old lady ; 
 say, what am I to understand by them things ? 
 
 " 0, nothin, nothin, worth a-talkin of,^^ replied Else ; 
 " youh'e in a hurry now, ye know ; and besides, there^s 
 McSwine^s gun tearing away like fury. YeM betther 
 make haste, sir, or the storm TU be on afore ye get home.’^ 
 
 As Else spoke, a thudding sound broke like a peal of 
 distant thunder on the still air, and echoed heavily and 
 slowly along the shore, and then away among the deep 
 ravines of the mountains. A little, fleecy cloud, too, 
 which but half an hour gone, had been hardly percepti- 
 ble on the western horizon, had now rolled up in piles 
 dark and dense to the eastward, and passing the light- 
 house, spread far and wide over the clear sky. 
 
 " What^s that ? demanded Weeks, turning to look in 
 the direction of the sound. " It^s like a heavy broadside 
 at sea, ainT it ? 
 
 " Ay,^^ responded Else, it^s not unlike it ; but the 
 reports of all the guns on the say, and the channel bat- 
 teries to boot, never carried fear to as many hearts as 
 that. God look to the poor vessels out there the night ; 
 theyTl need good gear and stout arms to win through 
 Tory Island Gut, if this storm catches them within thirty 
 leagues of the coast. 
 
 " And what means that bright light out there ? It 
 looks like the flame of a burning ship reflected against 
 the heavens. 
 
 0, that^s only from the lantern of Tory light, said 
 9 
 
98 
 
 MARY LEE, OR 
 
 Else ; McSwine^s gun is just beyond it to the west ; 
 and the old woman, in reply to her companion's inquiry, 
 explained the cause of its loud report, assigning it, of 
 course, as all such things are popularly assigned, to a 
 supernatural agency. It^s said,^^ she added, by the 
 ould people, that it niver was heerd afore the Parlia- 
 ment was taken away from us, and niver will stop firing 
 the death gun of the nation till it comes back.^^ 
 
 Psaugh ! ejaculated Weeks ; what a notion ! 
 ThaPs some of your old priests^ stories, I guess. But, 
 see here, — about that Talbot — 
 
 And there goes the Deviks Gulsh too,^^ interrupted 
 Else ; look at the spindrifts as they begin to fly across 
 the iron bridge. Take a friend^ s advice, Mr. Weeks, 
 and hurry home as fast as ye can ; for my word on it, 
 if ye don^t, yeTl find a wet jacket afore ye reach Crohan. 
 Good night, sir, good night ; and Else made another 
 motion to leave. 
 
 Say, hold on,^^ cried Weeks, detaining her by the 
 skirt of her cloak ; hold on ; I can wait long enough to 
 hear what youVe got to say about the Talbots. How 
 can they concern me — eh ? 
 
 '^0, not the laste in the world ; how could they, since 
 ye niver heerd tell o^ them afore ? 
 
 Well, but still I may have been connected with them 
 somehow unknown to me.^^ 
 
 Ha, ha ! laughed the old woman, gathering the 
 scanty cloak still closer round her emaciated shoulders, 
 as she felt the first breath of the coming storm, and 
 chuckling within its folds, like one of Macbeth^s witches 
 gloating over her boiling caldron. Ila, ha ! unbeknown 
 to ye, indeed. 
 
 Come, come, said Weeks ; ^‘1 want no more fool- 
 ing just now. You kinder insinewate I had some con- 
 nection I hadn^t ought to with folks name of Talbot. 
 Hush ! doikt spake so loud.^^ 
 
 '' Nonsense ! loud ! Pm an American born, and ain^t 
 afraid to speak out before any human in creation. 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 99 
 
 ''That^s mighty bould/^ said Else ; but cowards 
 sometimes spake the loudest/^ 
 
 '' Well; that^s my way of doing things, nevertheless/^ 
 '' And a brave way it is too, sir, for them that can 
 carry it through ; but sacrets, ye know, shud be spoke 
 in whispers, and above all, deep, dark sacrets ; and the 
 old crone fixed her gray weasel eyes on the face of the 
 Yankee, and then added, '' Doi/t mention that name 
 again above yer breath, for somebody might be lis- 
 tenin/^ 
 
 What name — Talbot ? 
 
 Whist ! I say, the night^s dark.^^ 
 
 Dark ! I don^t care a brass cent, woman ; nonsense ! 
 Well, I swonnie, if this ain^t the greatest attempt at 
 humbug I met since I left — 
 
 Ducksville,^^ subjoined Else, in a low, stealthy tone, 
 leering at him the while from under her hood. And so 
 ye’d like to hear the sacret? ” 
 
 Yes, out with it,” said Weeks, confidently ; I ain’t 
 afraid. If you’ve got a secret regarding me, tell it. 
 For my part I know of no secret, and I dread none 
 either.” 
 
 And might I make bould to ask ye what brought ye 
 here then, if ye haven’t ? ” 
 
 '' Why, I came to visit my cousins.” 
 
 Humph ! and are the Hard wrinkles yer cousins ? ” 
 demanded Else ; eh ! surely yer cousins ? ” 
 
 Well, mother says so ; she ought to know some- 
 thing about it, I guess, being the only surviving sister 
 of the late Mr. Hardwrinkle ; and so, feeling rather dis- 
 posed to many, I took a fancy to olfer my hand and for- 
 tune to Mary Lee.” 
 
 And what wud ye marry her for, if it’s a fair ques- 
 tion ? ” 
 
 '' Her beauty, of course ; she has nothing else to rec- 
 ommend her, I reckon.” 
 
 Ha, ha, ha ! ” laughed Else, in hoarse, hollow tones, 
 which sounded like the voice of the dead from the depths 
 of a charnel vault, her toothless gums mumbling the 
 
100 
 
 MAKY LEE, OR 
 
 words as she uttered them ; ha, ha ! her beauty indeed 
 — the beauty of William Talbotts gold M be nearer the 
 truth, Fm thinking ^ 
 
 Weeks heard the name distinctly, and the hearing of 
 it seemed to paralyze him, for the fishing rod fell from 
 his hands without his seeming to notice it. 
 
 '^What! said Else, pursuing her advantage, marry 
 Mary Lee for her beauty — a girl ye niver set eyes on, 
 till ye seen her, not three hours ago, on Lough Ely ? 
 Hoot, toot, sir ; don^t be foolish ; yer a quate aisy 
 spoken man, to be sure, and might pass for what ye 
 plaze with the simple counthry gawkies here on the wild 
 mountains ; but as for me, I^m a little too ould in the 
 horn to be blindfolded in that way.^^ 
 
 '‘You misunderstand me, old lady,^^ said Weeks, picking 
 up his fishing rod, and endeavoring to compose himself. 
 
 " Well, listen to me for a minute, and ye’ll hear my 
 raisons. Didn’t ye bargain with me for my good word 
 with Mary Lee ? ” 
 
 " Yes ; guess so.” 
 
 " And didn’t ye bargain with me moreover if my good 
 word ’d fail to delud-her her with spells and charms, an 
 that afore iver ye seen a faiture of her face ? ” 
 
 "No, that’s a mistake,” responded Weeks; "I saw 
 her at the Catholic Chapel before I saw you, and deter- 
 mined to have her at any sacrifice.” 
 
 "Saw her! may be so, but ye didn’t see her face; 
 she was veiled.” 
 
 " Can’t say as to that ; saw enough at least to know 
 she was a handsome gal. Why should she be veiled — 
 eh ? ” 
 
 "Niver mind; she has her own raisons, I suppose; 
 but this much I can tell ye, that many’s the little up 
 settin squireen and purse proud hudagh threw themselves 
 in her way the last twel’month and more, as she went in 
 and out of Massmount Chapel of a Sunday mornin, lanin 
 on her uncle’s arm, to stale a glim.pse at her ' bonny 
 een,’ and got little for their pains when all was done. 
 No, no, sir ; ye seen that bright, sunny face this blissed 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 101 
 
 day for the first time in yer life, or Pm far out i’ my 
 recknin.^^ 
 
 Well, saw enough to know she^s a handsome gal,^^ 
 stammered out Weeks, hardly knowing what to say in 
 the face of Else^s positive assertion. 
 
 And listen to me again, continued the latter, still 
 following up her advantage ; ''why didn^t ye thry the girl 
 yerself afore ye came my length ? Yer not so handsome 
 that sheM be lakely to fall plump in love with ye, to be 
 sure ; but still yer not so ill-looking aither for a foreigner; 
 and then to the back i^ that, yeVe as many goold rings, 
 chains, and gaglygaws about ye as might set any young 
 crather^s heart a flutterin. Why, in the name i^ wondher, 
 I say, didn^t ye thry what ye cud do yerself afore ye^d 
 go to the expense of engagin me ? 
 
 ‘'Why, I wanted to be spry about it,’^ responded 
 Weeks. " Timers money to me ; I count hours dollars, 
 and minutes cents. I couldn^t afibrd to wait, no how. 
 But pray how does it concern you what my views 
 and motives are, if I pay your price when the job^s 
 done ? 
 
 " Ay, ay,’’ muttered Else ; " that’s it — that’s it. Ye 
 thought ye’d make short work of it, for fear the sacret ’d 
 lake out. Humph ! I see ; and yer cousins, as ye call 
 them, the Hardwrinkles, made ye believe I was a witch, 
 I’ll warrint, and could do more with spells and charms 
 than you with all yer fine airs and boasted riches. Ay, 
 ay, ye thought I was an ould hell-born divil ’ithout sowl 
 or conscience, ready to do yer dirty work, and ask no 
 questions aither. But yer mistaken, Mr. Weeks ; cute 
 as ye are, ye’ll find me just as canny ; and I tell ye 
 what it is, may I niver see the sun again, if all the dol- 
 lars in America cud buy me over to move one hair’s 
 breath in this dark plot, if it wasn’t for the sake of Mary 
 Lee herself.” 
 
 Weeks paused for an instant before he spoke. The 
 solemn declaration he had just heard, and made with so 
 much apparent sincerity, completely puzzled him. It 
 was a phase in the old woman’s character he had never 
 9 * 
 
102 
 
 MARY LEE, OR 
 
 noticed before. Already, indeed, he had penetration 
 enough to see that she was by no means the kind of per- 
 son common report represented her, nor such as he took 
 her for himself on his first visit to the Cairn. Since that 
 time, lier character, it^s true, had been slowly and gradu- 
 ally developing itself, but still in such a manner as nei- 
 ther to surprise nor startle him. Now he hardly knew 
 what to make of her. Every mark, every characteristic, 
 of the original woman seemed to have gradually vanished 
 one by one. Her decrepitude, her stupidity, her peevish- 
 ness, her deafness, her blindness, had all disappeared day 
 after day, and so completely, that at last he could hardly 
 believe in her very identity. The wretched being he 
 found, but a month gone, sitting over her peat fire, with 
 her goat by her side, and looking as stolid as if all her 
 mental faculties had fled, now stood before him, an active, 
 shrewd, energetic woman. All about her was changed 
 — all save the furrows of her brown skin, and the gray 
 elf locks which still stole out from under the band of her 
 ruffled cap. After such a metamorphosis, what wonder 
 if Weeks began to suspect (and especially after so solemn 
 a declaration as he had just heard) that her reputed lust 
 of gold was false, like all the other charges made against 
 her ! And how could he tell now, but it was her love 
 of Mary Lee, rather than her love of gold, that led her 
 to take so lively an interest in his affairs ? IBe that as it 
 might. Weeks felt confused and puzzled to his wit^s end, 
 and finally resolved to let Else have her own way, be- 
 lieve what she pleased of him, and carry out her own 
 views to benefit her protegee after her own fashion. 
 
 So it^s entirely for the girFs sake,^^ he at length re- 
 plied, '' that you consent to aid me in the matter of this 
 marriage. 
 
 Humph ! I love gold,’^ responded Else, '' but I love 
 Mary Lee better.’^ 
 
 '' Then you should relinquish your claim on the re- 
 maining three of the four hundred dollars I promised you, 
 since you serve her interests, not iniiie.’^ 
 
 Not a brass copper of it,^^ replied Else ; not a 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 103 
 
 copper. No, no ; so far from that, III be expectin 
 another hundred by this time next Thursday. 
 
 Another ! whew ! Well, well, you shall have it,^^ 
 said Weeks, promptly ; for after all, it donT. matter a 
 punkiu seed to me what your motives are, if you only 
 secure the girl.^^ 
 
 Nor the girPs love or beauty a punkin seed aither, 
 if ye can only make her yer wife.^^ 
 
 Well — don't know about that." 
 
 Hoot ! sir, ye know, as well as the sowl's in yer 
 body, that ye don't care a chaw i' tabacky for her beauty. 
 Yer afther somethin ye value more nor beauty, or I'm 
 not Else Curley o' the Cairn." 
 
 You're not what I once took you for, that's certain," 
 replied Weeks. '' You may be the d — 1 for what I know 
 
 — and just as like as anything else, for all I can see to 
 the contrary." 
 
 Ha, ha ! I'm not the dotin ould crone yer friends 'd 
 make me out, that 'd sell her sowl to fill her pockets." 
 
 I required no such sacrifice," responded Weeks. I 
 employed you to serve me in a perfectly lawful transac- 
 tion, from which no injury could possibly result to either 
 party." 
 
 Humph ! and suppose the girl was left a fortin by a 
 friend in furrin parts," said Else, what then? Who'd 
 be the gainer ? " 
 
 '^Gainer? Why, I guess I'm good enough for her 
 
 — any way you can fix it, fortune or no fortune," said 
 Weeks, thrusting his hands into his breeches pockets, 
 and hitching up his .cap behind with the collar of his 
 coat. '' Yes, old lady, good enough if she had fifty for- 
 tunes." 
 
 Good enough for her ! " repeated Else, looking into 
 his face — her thin, wrinkled lips turning up in scorn as 
 she spoke. You good enough for Mary Lee ! " 
 
 Ay, or for any other Irish girl, by crackie, ever 
 stepped in shoe leather," cried the Yankee, jingling up 
 the silver change in his pockets. 
 
 Ha, ha ! " laughed Else ; '' that's mighty modest." 
 
104 
 
 MARY LEE, OR 
 
 Well, themes my sentiments/^ 
 
 Yer wakeness, ye mane/^ 
 
 No, ma^am, my solemn conviction. The son of an 
 American revolutionist is good enough, I take it, for the 
 biggest — darndest old aristocrat's daughter in the land, 
 all-fired proud as they feel/^ 
 
 May be so, may be so,^^ quietly replied Else. But 
 if thaVs yer way o^ thinkin, Vd advise ye keep it to yer- 
 self. Such talk as that may sound big in America, but 
 it woi/t go down here.^^ 
 
 Here — and what the tarnation are ye, that an Ameri- 
 can born can^t speak his sentiments right out, just as he 
 pleases ? 
 
 0, tlien indeed it^s true for ye ; bad scran to the 
 much we are. But still ye know we have our feelins as 
 well as other people. And, between ourselves, Mr. 
 Weeks, it^s not very seemly to hear a man like you, with- 
 out a dhrop o’ dacent blood in his veins, comin over 
 here and settin himself up as an aiqual for the best in the 
 land. Wow ! wow ! sir, it’s mighty provokin to see a 
 stranger takin sich airs on himself afore he’s a month in 
 the country.” 
 
 My dear woman, ye’re behind the age, I guess, two 
 or three centuries down here in this section. If you only 
 kept run of the times, you’d soon come to find, that an 
 American always makes himself at home wherever he 
 goes — that his very name’s a passport to every which 
 country in creation.” 
 
 '' Bedad, thin, if ye thry that same passport here, I’m 
 afeerd it won’t take, barrin ye spake a little modester 
 nor ye do now. Little as ye think of the Irish abroad, 
 faith, there’s some o’ them at home here’d make ye keep 
 a civil distance, if ye don’t keep a civil tongue in yer 
 head. Mind that, sir, and don’t forget it, aither, as long 
 as yer in the country.” 
 
 '' Well,” said Weeks, somewhat taken aback by Else’s 
 contemptuous disregard of a claim which he thought 
 irresistible all over the world, and especially in poverty- 
 stricken Ireland, '^well, I was always taught to reckon 
 
THE YANI0:E in IRELAND. 
 
 105 
 
 a free-born American good enough for any woman in 
 creation ; and I rather think, old lady, youdl have to try 
 hard before you unsettle that opinion. Cousin Nathan 
 — I mentioned his name once before, I guess — Cousin 
 Nathan was considerable of a shrewd man in his way — as 
 shrewd, I presume, as most men in that section of the 
 country — well, he was a man that was always posted 
 up in every thing relating to Europe and European aris- 
 tocracy, and he told me, often and often, that a free-born 
 American was good enough — 
 
 Paugh ! free-born fiddlesticks ! exclaimed Else. 
 What the plague do we care about yer free-born Ameri- 
 cans or yer Cousin Nathans aither ? We^re abliged to ye, 
 to be sure, for sendin us over what ye did in our time of 
 need, an ill it M be our common to forget it, or indeed 
 our childher after us, for that matter, but in the name o^ 
 patience have sense, and donft take the good out of all 
 ye do by boastin and puffin yer Americanism that way, 
 like an auctioneer sellin caligoes at a fair.^^ 
 
 Boasting ! repeated Weeks ; '' well there ! Boast- 
 ing ! why, if there^s any thing in this world I hate more 
 than another, iPs boasting. I never boast — never. The 
 people of these old reduced nations here may boast, and 
 the poorer they happen to be, the greater braggarts they 
 are. But our nation is too dignified, too intelligent, for 
 that; she^s too great to stoop to such trifles. No, no ; 
 I merely stated a fact, and I repeat it again, that a free 
 American, a son of the immortal Washington, is good 
 enough for the best and highest blood in creation.'^ 
 
 '' Very good,^^ said Else ; every body has a right to 
 his own opinion, I suppose. But don't talk that way 
 to Edward Lee, if you don't want to pick a quarrel 
 with him. For never was flint fuller of fire than ye'll find 
 him, if ye touch his family pride, by such talk as that." 
 
 Well, hold on a bit. I've got an all-fired sure way 
 of bringing down that same family pride a peg or two, 
 and without a quarrel either. See if I hain't." 
 
 Why, in deed an word," said Else, suddenly chan- 
 ging her tone to a confidential whisper, and to tell ye 
 
106 
 
 MARY LEE, OR 
 
 truth, may be that itself wudn’t be the worst thing* ye 
 cud do, after all, for I^m thinkiii they^ll have to be beg- 
 gared before they^re betthered, the crathurs/^ 
 
 What does that mean ? demanded Weeks. 
 
 Why, that afther all our schamin, Mary Lee won^t 
 have ye till she finds there^s no other way to save her- 
 self and her uncle from the poorhouse or the jail. 
 
 Whilst Else was yet speaking, the crack of a pistol 
 made Weeks turn his eyes quickly in the direction of the 
 little cabin on the Cairn. The night, however, was so 
 pitchy dark, he could see nothing beyond the edge of 
 the road ; but judging from the sharpness of the report, 
 he thought the weapon must have been discharged with- 
 in a dozen paces of where he stood. Wondering what 
 this could mean in a spot so remote and a night so 
 dark and threatening — for the evening breeze had now 
 changed into occasional gusts, and big drops of rain be- 
 gan to fall so heavily as to disturb the dust under his feet, 
 — wondering, and still keeping his eyes turned towards 
 the Cairn, he was again startled by a shrill whistle twice 
 repeated, and seemingly as close to him as if it had come 
 from himself. Turning short to demand from his com- 
 panion what this signal meant, and why she replied to it, 
 he found, much to his surprise and vexation, that he stood 
 alone — Else was gone. The moment after, however, an 
 answer came to his question, but in a form somewhat 
 different from what the astonished American expected ; 
 for hardly had he called the old woman a second time to 
 come back and explain the mystery, when a flash of light- 
 ning, instantly followed by a clap of thunder, shot across 
 the road and revealed for a second the form and face of 
 the handsome young sailor, whom he had seen convers- 
 ing with Mary Lee but an hour before, on the edge of the 
 precipice. It was but a single flash, and lasted no longer 
 than the twinkling of an eye ; and yet he saw the young 
 man distinctly — standing on a little knoll within a short 
 call of him, and resting on the boat-hook in the very posi- 
 tion he had seen him last. 
 
 Weekses first impulse was to follow Else and demand 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 107 
 
 an explanation. The presence of the stranger, at such a 
 time and place, appeared to him rather suspicious ; and 
 being inquisitive by nature, as well as somewhat appre- 
 hensive of Else^s fidelity, he resolved to have the mystery 
 cleared up at once, let the storm rage as it might. 
 
 With this magnanimous intention, he strode over the 
 low fence on the road side, and boldly advanced up the 
 hill towards the Cairn. Breathless, as much from agi- 
 tation of mind as of body, he made his way within fifty 
 paces of Else’s cabin, fully determined to have his mind 
 satisfied at all hazards — when, alas for human hopes! 
 he was again destined to meet with disappointment ; for 
 just as he had gained the top of the first slope, Nannie 
 presented herself before him, right in the middle of his 
 path. 
 
 Well, there 1 he exclaimed, gazing at the old white 
 goat standing before him as stiff and resolute as a sentry 
 on guard — 'Hhere I you^re ready for mischief again, I 
 see ; but go ahead, old Beelzebub ; ITl be darned if you 
 stop me this time ; and clutching his fishing rod Celtic 
 fashion, he straightway put himself on his defence. 
 
 Nannie, true to the well-known habits and instincts of 
 her species, backed slowly away, till she had receded 
 some ten or twelve paces, and then rearing on her hind 
 feet, made a rush full against the intruder, and would 
 probably have upset him, but Weeks, who had had some 
 experience of the animal already, evaded the blow by 
 stepping aside at the critical moment, and as she passed 
 struck her on the horns. The goat, however, seemed 
 not to notice it in the least ; for immediately turning and 
 running up the hill to intercept him, she again drew her- 
 self up in a position to renew the encounter. It should 
 here be said, perhaps, that Nannie had somewhat the 
 advantage of Mr. Weeks, inasmuch as the latter was a 
 stranger in the country, and had but a very indifferent 
 knowledge of the use of his weapon ; whereas Nannie, 
 according to common report, was already the ''hero of a 
 hundred battles. Besides, she knew her ground better 
 and could see more distinctly in the darkness. With such 
 
108 
 
 •MARY LEE, OR 
 
 odds against him, however, Mr. Weeks did his devoir 
 bravely, and showed no lack of courage in addressing 
 himself to so strange a combat. At length Nannie again 
 rose up, and plunged forward as before, with a furious 
 rush, and again missing her aim, received a second blow 
 on the horns as violent as the first. 
 
 ''Come, old she-devil, — half catamount, half Luci- 
 fer, — fire up again ; Til teach you a Yankee trick or 
 two ; come on, old rattlesnake.^^ But Nannie, it seemed, 
 was not disposed to renew the encounter so readily as he 
 expected. Taking it for granted, nevertheless, she would 
 a third time repeat her manoeuvre of running on before 
 him and heading him off, he resolved to benefit by her 
 loss of time, and have the start of her for the Cairn. 
 With this object in view, he made all possible haste up 
 the hill, and had gained on her a considerable distance, 
 when all of a sudden, and without the slightest anticipa- 
 tion of it on his part, something struck him from behind, 
 and threw him back head foremost, down the hill. A 
 statue of marble thrust back from its pedestal down an 
 inclined plane could not have fallen more helplessly than 
 did Ephraim Weeks. The thud of his body on the beaten 
 foot path might have been heard distinctly at the cabin, 
 lie was now completely at the mercy of his enemy. Twice 
 he essayed to regain his feet, and twice did Nannie lay 
 him flat on his back. At length, however, he succeeded 
 so far as to scramble up on his knees, and — as the goat, 
 now in the heat of encounter, closed in upon him, no 
 longer retreating and advancing, as before — he finally 
 seized her by the horns, and speechless, breathless, furi- 
 ous, there he held her. But what was he to do now ? 
 lie could not remain kneeling, in that attitude, looking in 
 his enemy’s face, all night, amid the rain and lightning. 
 He was sorely perplexed, for never was he between two 
 such horns of a dilemma before. To let go, his hold, and 
 strike with the but of his fishing rod, would only enrage 
 her the more, without in the least extricating him from his 
 embarrassment ; and to hold her with one hand, whilst he 
 drew out his pocket pistol (a weapon he always carried 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 109 
 
 about him) with the other, was more than he could ac- 
 complish. In either case, he was likely to find himself 
 as helpless and prostrate as ever before he could strike a 
 blow or draw a trigger. 
 
 '' Tarnation seize ye,^^ he cried, looking into the ani- 
 maPs face, and shaking her by the horns ; are you man, 
 or beast, or devil, or what are ye 
 
 Nannie bleated a reply. It was her defiance d Vou- 
 trance. 
 
 0, good heavens ! cried Weeks, in accents of de- 
 spair, ''is there such another country as this in all 
 almighty creation ? Here I am on my knees, pelted with 
 rain, half singed with lightning, and nearly beaten to a 
 mummy by a goat, the very first day I entered on my 
 plans and speculations.^^ 
 
 But this condition of things could not long endure ; and 
 so Mr. Weeks, at last, prudently determined to run for 
 it, since he could see no other way of terminating the 
 fight. It was the resource of the coward, to be sure, but 
 what else could be done ? Making a desperate efibrt, 
 therefore, he threw the goat on her side by a sudden 
 wrench of the horns, and then, jumping on his feet, fled 
 down the hill, over the fence, and along the road, as fast 
 as his long logs could carry him, cursing lustily, as lie 
 ran, the unlucky day he ever had the misfortune to meet 
 • Else Curley of the Cairn. And here we must leave him 
 to pursue his dreary journey, and return to other actors 
 in the play. 
 
 10 
 
110 
 
 MAr^Y LEE, OR 
 
 CHAPTEE VIII. 
 
 Lardy acknowledges his Weakness for Fishing and Field 
 Sports, but thinks Father Brennan^ s liable nothing the 
 worse for that. — Dr. Henshaw is suddenly presented to 
 the Reader, and Uncle Jerry discovered in the Bottom 
 of a Boat, supporting the Negro with the broken Toes, 
 
 Castle Gregory, the family seat of the Petershams, on 
 the banks of Lough Swilly, was an odd-fashioned place as 
 could be seen any where in Ireland or out of it. Standing 
 all alone, cold and bare, against the side of a mountain, 
 it looked more like a Ehenish fortress, or soldier^s bar- 
 rack, than a gentleman^s residence. To the traveller, 
 whether he approached it by sea or land, it presented a 
 bleak and desolate appearance. There was neither tree 
 to shelter it from the storm, nor portico to break the 
 blast from the hall door. It consisted of several piles 
 of buildings, erected at different periods, and jumbled 
 together without the least ornament or the slightest re- 
 gard to congruity of outline. High dormer windows and 
 tall brick chimneys rose up in remarkable confusion, and 
 so closely packed together that all the swallows and 
 jackdaws of the parish seemed to gather there in the • 
 season to build their nests. As to the pleasure grounds, 
 if indeed they should be so called, they had neither gate 
 nor stone wall to enclose them. All round about the 
 place was open and bare ; indeed, save a few acres of 
 green lawn before the hall door, where the old sun dial 
 stood between the two lions couchant, there was nothing 
 to be seen any where but bent and sand hills. In front 
 of the castle, Ballyrnastocker strand and rabbit warren 
 stretched away to Eathmullen Head, from the brow of 
 which Dunree battery pointed its guns across the nar- 
 rows of the frith, and behind it Sugar Loaf Hill rose up 
 like a pyramid with its little coast-guard station and flag- 
 staff on top. 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 Ill 
 
 Approaching Castle Gregory by water, from the direc- 
 tion of Araheera Point, the immense precipices, which 
 line the southern shore, completely hide it from the travel- 
 ler’s view, till he comes within an oar’s length or two of 
 the usual landing place. It was on this account, proba- 
 bly, that the occupants of a small sailing boat, which 
 glided up the channel the evening after the painful events 
 related in the preceding chapter, seemed quite unconscious 
 of their near proximity to the place, for the steersman put 
 up his helm, and sent the boat sheering away in an oppo- 
 site direction, just as she had almost touched the nose of 
 the quay. 
 
 Hilloa, there ! ” exclaimed one of the passengers. 
 
 Where away, now? You’re taking us over to Innis- 
 howen instead of Bally mastocker. Put her about, man ; 
 put her about directly.” 
 
 '^Why, sir, you must be mistaken,” said the man at 
 the rudder. 
 
 Not very likely. After boating about here nearly 
 every week of my life for the last fifteen years, I should 
 know the lay of the land at least.” 
 
 Well, there’s Doughmore, where you see the smoke ; 
 and there’s Buncrana — ” v 
 
 Nonsense, sir ; don’t you see the spars of the Water 
 Hen here over the rocks behind us ? Bound with her, 
 sir, and let us ashore.” 
 
 '' Begorra, I believe you’re right,” muttered the skip- 
 per, giving the helm a jerk when he saw his mistake. 
 
 You’re parfectly right, Father John — what in the 
 world could I be thinkin of! ” 
 
 Some deviltry, I suppose — what you’re always 
 thinking of.” 
 
 0, don’t be so hard on me, yer riverince ; you can’t 
 expect every one to know the place as well as yourself, 
 after crui sin about here on sick calls so many years.” 
 
 '' Hut, tut, sir ; you’re a pretty pilot, to carry us 
 through these rocks and currents,” continued the priest, 
 in a half-bantering, half-serious tone. '^If you knew 
 only half as much about piloting as you do about poach- 
 
112 
 
 MARY LEE, OR 
 
 ing, you wouldn^t be amiss. There now — take care of 
 the shoals here — steady that, steady ; and the tide will 
 set us into the basin. 
 
 When the boat touched the ground, the steersman 
 stepped ashore, and drew up her bows as far as he was 
 able on the hard beach, (for it seemed the regular landing 
 place at that time of tide was rather inconvenient for his 
 purpose,) and then prepared to land his passengers. 
 
 Lane on me, yer riverince,^^ said he, as the priest 
 stood with his foot on the gunwale, ready to jump ; lane 
 on me ; the shore^s rough. 
 
 Yes ; lean on you, till you break my neck, as you 
 came within an inch of doing last week. Away — Til 
 never trust you again. 
 
 But youhl hurt yer feet. Father John,^^ persisted the 
 skipper, with more concern for the clergymari^s safety 
 than the danger seemed to warrant. 
 
 Never mind my feet — stand off — ITl none of your 
 help/^ 
 
 ''Why, these hard, rough paving stones, — theyh*e 
 terrible on the g — on tinder feet, I mane ; plaze your 
 riverince, just lane on me once more.^^ 
 
 The priest, as he stood there with his foot on the gun- 
 wale, appeared to be a man of middle age and stature, 
 and active enough, one would suppose, to jump twice the 
 distance ; but the skipper, who was evidently a humorous 
 fellow in his way, had probably discovered his weak point, 
 and seemed disposed to tease him about it in requital 
 for the rebuke he gave him in the presence of strangers. 
 
 "You may take m}^ word for it, Fll lean upon you 
 some of these days, my good fellow, said the priest, 
 pushing the skipper aside, and stepping ashore with the 
 greatest ease imaginable ; " Fll lean upon you the right 
 way, too.^^ 
 
 " But sure, yer riverince, accordin to yer own words, 
 we’re all bound to forgive one another.’’ 
 
 " Never mind, sir ; I have a crow to pluck with you, 
 notwithstanding.” ^ 
 
 " A crow ! ” retorted the skipper ; " bedad, sir, that’s 
 
THE YANEH:E in IRELAND. 
 
 113 
 
 tough pickin. But sure if yeM accept of a brace of 
 grouse or wild duck, Fd bring them up — 
 
 Hold your peace, Lanty Hanlon, exclaimed the 
 priest — for the skipper was no other than our quondam 
 friend, — ''hold your peace; you^re growing quite too 
 malapert of late. Perhaps if you thought I heard all 
 about your treatment of Mr. Johnston^s gamekeeper, last 
 Monday night, you would hardly be so bold.’’ 
 
 " Me, sir ? ” 
 
 " Ay, you, sir.” 
 
 " Why, now just listen to that, gentlemen. May I 
 niver do harm, if it don’t beat Banagher out and out. 
 Upon my conscience it’s the most astonishin — ” 
 
 " 0, you needn’t affect all that innocent surprise,” 
 said the priest, interrupting him. "I know you too well 
 to be hoodwinked in that way, Mr. Hanlon. So not an- 
 other word now, but make haste to land your passengers.” 
 
 " 0, to be sure — av coorse — that’s always the way 
 with ye,” muttered Lanty, making a show of hauling up 
 the boat’s side to the beach. " 0, no, why shud I be al- 
 lowed to clear myself? Av coorse nobody in the whole 
 parish does the laste harm in life, from Monday mornin 
 till Saturday night, but Lanty Hanlon. But isn’t it migh- 
 ty odd,” he continued, winking slyly at one of the occu- 
 pants of the boat, " how bad entirely he feels about the 
 gamekeeper, when, if report be true, he was himself, once 
 in his days, the terror of all the gamekeepers in the 
 barony! But it’s not that ails him — there’s somethin 
 else in the win. Fll wager he’s angry about that salmon 
 I sent him last week ; ” and closing one eye hard, he 
 looked with the other at a little man seated in the bottom 
 of the boat. " Sure if I cud only be sartint it was that, 
 Fd ask his pardon and promise niver to do the lake again.” 
 
 " Ha 1 ha I Capital I capital I Lanty,” ejaculated the 
 little man from under the thwarts — "promise never 
 to send him a salmon again if lie only forgives you ; he I 
 he ! excellent, I declare ! ” 
 
 " Salmon I Wha^'salmon, sir, do you mean ? ” demand- 
 ed the priest. 
 
 10 * 
 
114 
 
 MARY LEE, OR 
 
 0, nothing worth speakin of, yer riverince,^^ replied 
 Lanty, pushing up his rabbit-skin cap from his eye-s, and 
 giving the boat another pull ; nothin but a small twenty 
 poundher I speared under Mr. Wattses milldam, and sent 
 up to the housekeeper for your last Friday^s dinner ; but 
 af coorse yer riverince niver suspected how it came, or 
 ye wouldn^t taste a morsel of it for the world. 
 
 ''Ha! ha ! laughed the same voice; " that^s it; 
 give it to him, Lanty — that^s just his deserving. 
 
 " Lanty Hanlon, exclaimed the priest, laughing at the 
 joke himself — for he saw in an instant he had been made 
 unwittingly to entertain those very friends now sitting in 
 the boat to a stolen salmon, last Friday at dinner, despite all 
 his public threats and denunciations against so unjust and 
 mischievous a practice, — " Lanty Hanlon, he repeated, 
 " should you attempt such a trick again, you may depend 
 on it I shall report you to the constabulary.^^ 
 
 " Ha ! iLanty, listen to that — eh, how very big spoken 
 he is ! why, I vow and declare, Lanty, I haven’t seen a 
 bit of game at his table these five years but he threatened 
 to throw out of the window.” 
 
 " 0, it’s wondherful, yer honor, how mighty tender 
 his conscience is in regard of game ! But isn’t it quare, 
 sir, this weakness niver comes over his riverince while 
 there’s a bone of it to be seen on the table afore him ? ” 
 
 " Hold your scandalous tongue,” cried the good- 
 natured priest, raising his cane, at last, over Lanty’s 
 head ; " hold your impudent tongue, I say, or I’ll be 
 tempted to make this acquainted with your ears ; ” and 
 shaking the weapon at the provoking fellow, he moved 
 away from the shore, out of hearing of his voice. 
 
 " Mr. Henshaw,” said Lanty, (now that Father John 
 had gone off beyond earshot,) and changing his voice 
 from the long drawl of the dry humorist to a more 
 business-like tone, — "Mr. Henshaw, be plazed, sir, to 
 step ashore, till we thry and lift that crathur of a blacka- 
 moor out ; he looks like a mummy, poor sowl, he’s so 
 quate and peaceable.” 
 
 The individual named Henshaw had been attentively 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 115 
 
 reading a book, through a pair of gold spectacles, all the 
 time since the boat came in sight. So absorbed indeed 
 was he in the subject, that he never raised his eyes even 
 for an instant during all the previous conversation, not 
 even when the boat first struck the beach and shook him 
 in his seat. 
 
 Come, sir,^^ repeated Lanty, touching him on the 
 shoulder, step out, if ye plaze ; we must hurry, or 
 we^ll be late.^^ 
 
 What^s the matter now ? demanded the individual 
 in question, in a deep, gruff voice, raising his eyes, and 
 looking about him, as he spoke. 
 
 Lanty again repeated his request. 
 
 Humph ! ejaculated the other, growling out his 
 dissatisfaction at being disturbed ; and limiting his reply 
 to the monosyllable, he rose slowly up from his seat, and 
 stalked over the boat^s side, with the book under his arm. 
 
 It may be as well to say a word or two here respecting 
 this gentleman, since he happens to be somewhat con- 
 cerned, — though it be indirectly, — in the moral of our 
 story. 
 
 He was now a man about forty-five years of age, a 
 Scotchman by birth, and an old college chum of Father 
 John^s. They had passed several years together at Ox- 
 ford, where they lived on the most intimate terms of 
 friendship, till the latter relinquished his studies for the 
 bar, and returned home to prepare himself for the priest- 
 hood. Since that time. Father Brennan had entirely lost 
 sight of his fellow-student, and probably never should 
 have thought of renewing their former intimacy, had he 
 not chanced to see, one day, in an English newspaper, a 
 notice of the conversion to the Catholic church of David 
 Henshaw, Esq., LL. D., Barrister at Law, and a dis- 
 tinguished contributor to the Edinburgh Review. This 
 led to the formation of a close and intimate correspond- 
 ence between them, which, after a continuance of two or 
 three years, at length resulted in the doctor’s present visit 
 to his old college friend and classmate. But the good 
 •priest was both disappointed and shocked at the first 
 
116 
 
 MAEY LEE, OE 
 
 interview ; for he found his old acquaintance not only a 
 '' stronger and sterner Catholic after three years^ 
 matriculation, than he was himself, though brought up 
 almost within the sanctuary, but so ultra in all his views 
 of religion, that he began seriously to doubt whether the 
 church had lost or gained by the conversion. Henshaw 
 was yet but a novice in the church, and only saw her 
 doctrine under its severest aspect. Her dogmas and 
 anathemas were the only signs of her divine power he 
 could discover, whilst the more gentle and delicate opera- 
 tions of her spirit on the hearts of men were entirely 
 hidden from his view. The consequence was, that he 
 regarded her only in her coercive capacity, and entirely 
 overlooked the charity with which she exercised it. 
 Hence Dr. Henshaw became a very despot in religion. 
 Without the least pity for those who had grown up in 
 the midst of hereditary prejudices against Catholicity, 
 or compassion for those who would willingly have em- 
 braced it, if they could only be made to see their error, 
 he consigned all beyond the pale of the church — all, 
 without exception — to unutterable destruction. Such 
 was Dr. Henshaw. His head was Catholic, but his heart 
 was that of a pagan philosopher — as cold and unfeeling 
 as a stone. 
 
 After gazing about him for a minute or two, he walked 
 slowly up to where the priest was standing, and folding 
 his arms on his breast, turned his face again to the beach, 
 and began to converse with his reverend companion. 
 The attitude he assumed, and the air of self-complacency 
 with which he pursed out his lips when he spoke, could 
 hardly fail to impress the most careless observer with the 
 conviction that he was a man quite conscious of his 
 mental powers, and fully alive to a sense of his personal 
 importance. But we must leave him, for the present, 
 with the priest, and return to the remaining occupants 
 of the boat. 
 
 '' It’s a bad case,” said the little man under the thwarts ; 
 
 a very bad case. I’m afraid one great toe and two 
 little ones are gone entirely.” 
 
THE YANKEE IN IKELAND. 
 
 117 
 
 0, well, sure, if they're gone atself, your honor, he 
 can do very well without them," replied Lanty ; two 
 or three toes is neither here nor there." 
 
 ''No; certainly not, in one respect, I admit — but 
 this is an extraordinary case, Lanty ; you can't deny 
 that. It's a very deplorable case, and calls for a world 
 of sympathy ; " and as the speaker raised his eyes up 
 to Lanty 's face, now bent over him, there could be no 
 mistaking the mild, benevolent countenance of Uncle 
 Jerry Guirkie. 
 
 Lanty looked kindly down for an instant on Uncle 
 Jerry's upturned face. Not a word he said, for there 
 was no need of saying any thing ; but the smile on his 
 honest countenance was more eloquent than words. It 
 seemed to say, as plainly as looks could say it, " God 
 Almighty bless you for your kind heart — you're the best 
 sowl in the whole world." 
 
 " I hope," said Uncle Jeriy, endeavoring to draw up 
 his little gaitered legs from their painful posture, stretched 
 out as they had been so long in the bottom of the boat, 
 — "I hope the poor fellow may be nothing the worse for 
 the long voyage." 
 
 " 0, begorra, there's not a bit fear of him," replied 
 Lanty ; " the crathur's as strong as a bullock. But isn't 
 it mighty strange, sir, ye tuck such a liking to him all at 
 once ? why, one'd think you had Christians enough down 
 there at the wreck to take your pick and choice iv, instead 
 of carrying away a blackamoor like that." 
 
 " Why, the difference is only in the skin, Lanty." 
 
 " The skin ! Bedad, sir, and that atself s no thrifle." 
 
 "Well, but he's a Christian. 
 
 " That fellow ? " 
 
 " Yes, indeed, that very negro ; and perhaps a better 
 Christian, too, than a great many of us." 
 
 " Ha, ha, ha ! " laughed Lanty, in spite of his stoic 
 gravity, — for he had never seen a negro before in his 
 life, — " ha, ha ! Mr. Guirkie, I see you can joke as well 
 as another. But come, sir, there's no time to lose now ; 
 we must thry to lift him out any way, whatever he is." 
 
118 
 
 MABY LEE, OB 
 
 ''I don^t joke, upon my honor, Lanty. Ile^s really a 
 Christian/^ 
 
 0, it^s no matter ; sure I don^t care a pin about it ; 
 he^s good enough in his own way, Pll warrant. Let me 
 help you out first, sir.^^ 
 
 '' Nonsense, Lanty ; you don^t seem to believe me ; I 
 tell you again, he^s a Christian, like yourself ; and perhaps, 
 if the truth were known, a much better one too/^ repeated 
 Uncle Jerry, slightly vexed at Lanty^s incre&ulity. 
 
 '' Well, bedad, yer honor/^ replied the incredulous 
 Lanty, scratching his head, I can^t say the compliment^s 
 very flattherin, any way. Feth, maybe it^s in regard of 
 his strength of religion you like him so much, sir.^^ 
 
 No, not for that, either. It^s because one of his race 
 saved my life once in Alabama, at the imminent risk 
 of his own; and I made a vow then never to forget it to 
 the poor fellows wherever I met them. There^s another 
 reason, besides. I know their natures better than most 
 of my neighbors here, and think I can nurse him with 
 greater comfort to himself and pleasure to me.^^ 
 
 The unfortunate African, of whom Dr. Camberwell had 
 told so pitiful a story, was there indeed in proprio colore, 
 sitting down low in the boat, and resting his back against 
 Uncle Jerry ^s breast, while the kind-hearted little man^s 
 arms encircled the sufferer^s breast with as much tender- 
 ness as if it were his own son he had rescued from the 
 jaws of death, and was now bringing back in triumph 
 to his paternal home. In this affectionate manner he 
 supported the poor invalid all the way round Araheera 
 Point from Balleyhernan to Castle Gregory, a distance of 
 nearly ten miles. Often did he speak to him during the 
 voyage in the kindest and most soothing tones. Carefully 
 did he wrap the blankets closer and closer round his all 
 but naked shoulders and stiffened limbs, and pour into his 
 parched lips a mouthful of cordial from his leathern pocket 
 flask. Once only did the party stop on their way, and 
 that was at the lighthouse, to exchange courtesies with 
 Mr. Leo and his fair niece, and inquire after the little 
 cabin boy, whom the latter liad carried home with her 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 119 
 
 that morning* in her cockle shell over Lough Ely. At the 
 priest^ s signal, Mary came running down the steps to 
 greet him, and receive his blessing, — which indeed 
 the good man seemed to give with all the fervor of his 
 heart, — whilst Uncle Jerry looked lovingly up in her 
 face, stole her hand back, and kissed it with a tender 
 respect that was in admirable keeping with his own 
 modest character and the maiden^s gentle nature. When 
 the boat shoved off, the fair girl ran up the steps again, 
 and stood for a while on the edge of the precipice, under 
 which the boat passed, her face radiant with smiles, and 
 her uplifted hand waving an adieu like a spirit about to 
 ascend into the regions of air. 
 
 During the remainder of the voyage hardly a word was 
 spoken. The priest and Henshaw had been discussing 
 literary subjects, all the way from Balleyhernan to the 
 lighthouse, and now, on resuming their journey, seemed 
 to think they had said enough for the present, and turned 
 to occupy the remaining time each after his own fashion. 
 Father John opened his breviary and began to read his 
 office. Dr. Henshaw drew out a number of the Edin- 
 burgh Review,^^ and pulled down his gold spectacles 
 from the top of his head, where he had ‘put them out of 
 his way. Uncle Jerry gave the negro a mouthful of 
 wine, and gathered the blankets closer round him, and 
 Lanty Hanlon took another hitch on the running sheet, 
 and laid himself over quietly in the stern. In this way 
 the little party composed themselves to rest after the 
 fatigues of the morning, wliile the boat glided slowly up 
 the lough. As they rounded Rathmullen Head, however, 
 an accident occurred which might have proved of serious 
 consequence to the whole party. 
 
 At this point Rathmullen Mountrdn runs out into the 
 frith till it almost butts against Dundrem Bluff, on the 
 opposite shore. On each of these headlands a battery 
 of some ten or twelve guns protects the narrow channel, 
 and so strong is the current here, particularly at half 
 tide, that it is quite impossible for a sail boat to stem it, 
 except under a strong breeze from the mouth of the 
 
120 
 
 MAKY LEE, OR 
 
 lough. Lanty saw the ebb tide was beginning to tell 
 upon him as he reached this spot, and making the helm 
 and slieet fast, he stepped forward and shipped the bow 
 oars to help him against the stream ; but hardly had he 
 pulled half a dozen strokes, when a large boat, rowed by 
 four stout men and steered by a tall old woman, wrapped 
 in a gray cloak, shot out from one of the dark corners 
 under the headland, and passing the jutting rock, round 
 which he was endeavoring to make his way, struck his 
 little craft so violently as almost to jerk his unsuspecting 
 passengers into the sea. As it was, he lost one of his 
 oars, which, breaking the thole pins, came within an 
 inch of breaking his own head, as it swept round and fell 
 overboard. 
 
 Hah ! cried Lanty, when the boat righted again 
 after the stem of the other had shaved its way down her 
 side, and fell off across her stern into the stream, — 
 that was near nickin.^^ 
 
 Who are they ? demanded the priest, turning sud- 
 denly to look after the boat. 
 
 If she’s living, that’s Else Curley, of the Cairn, in 
 the stern sheets,” replied Lanty. 
 
 What, is it possible ? ” 
 
 The very woman, sir ; and that’s young Barry, the 
 rebel, beside her.” 
 
 He is a very foolish young man, I fear,” said the 
 priest ; ^^he must certainly be caught if he stay here.” 
 
 After some little exertion, Mr. Guirkie succeeded in 
 extricating his limbs from their disagreeable position, 
 and, with Lanty’s help, found himself safe at last on 
 terra firma. The three gentlemen then came together, 
 to consult about transporting the negro to Greenmount. 
 
 Uncle Jerry was for sending immediately to the next 
 village for a horse and cart, and stretching him on a mat- 
 tress laid on the bottom of it. Dr. Henshaw, on the 
 other hand, thought he might do very well in the boat 
 house, for the night, with some clean straw, and Lanty 
 to watch with him ; more especially as the boat house 
 was close at hand, and the night pleasant and warm ; 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 121 
 
 while they could return home themselves, and send over 
 an easy conveyance next morning. But the priest was 
 of a different opinion from both, and thought it much 
 better for all parties to sleep at Castle Gregory. The 
 night would be very dark,^^ he said, '^the roads both 
 deep and rutty after the late rains, and, besides, ^twould 
 take two hours, at least, to j)rocure a suitable convey- 
 ance for the negro if they carried him home, or for them- 
 selves if they left him behind. As to accommodations 
 for the invalid, he had no doubt Captain Petersham would 
 cheerfully order him a comfortable berth, and send his 
 servants to carry him up to the castle. After some 
 objections on the part of Uncle Jerry, on the score of 
 delay and the immediate necessity for medical attend- 
 ance, — objections which we fear very much were a little 
 aggravated by the dread of Mrs. Motherly^s grave dis- 
 pleasure at his long absence, — and on the part of Dr. 
 Henshaw, against what he called an unpardonable in- 
 trusion into a gentleman^s family, particularly at so late 
 an hour, and accompanied, as they were, by a notorious 
 poacher and a half-dead negro, hawking the latter 
 aboot all day,^^ he added gruffly, ^Mn a most absurd and 
 redeeculous manner, from house to house and rock to 
 rock, till he expected the whole country round should 
 ring with it for the next twalve-month to come — after 
 these objections, we say, were made and disposed of, the 
 party, at last, concluded to leave the negro with Lanty, 
 in the boat house, and put up at Castle Gregor^ for the 
 night. Accordingly, they advanced to the house, and 
 Father John, raising the knocker, knocked loudly on the 
 door. 
 
 11 
 
122 
 
 MABY LEE, OB 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Being the shortest Chapter in the Book, is devoted exclu- 
 sively to Mr, Weeks, 
 
 Mr. Ephraim Weeks, as^the reader may have already 
 suspected, came to Ireland to speculate in matrimony. 
 He left home with a cigar in his mouth, and stepped 
 aboard the packet as she moved past the wharf, with as 
 careless and indifferent an air as if he were dropping 
 down to Sandy Hook to visit a friend. As to meeting 
 with any serious obstacle, in a country whose inhabit- 
 ants, to take them in the lump, were no better than 
 South Sea Islanders, he never dreamed of it for a mo- 
 ment : why should he ? He knew what the Irish were, 
 every soul of them, and could read' them through as he 
 could the alphabet. He met them on the wharves, on 
 the railroads, on the steamboats, in the police offices, 
 saw them dramatized on the stage, tried at the bar, and 
 dissected in the pulpit. In a word, he knew what they 
 were at home in Ireland, just as well as if he had been 
 living with them there all his lifetime. What had he to 
 fear ? He had succeeded so far in various speculations 
 in New England, and how could he possibly fail in a land 
 of such ignorance and beggary as Ireland ? To be sure, 
 there must necessarily be some intelligent men in the 
 country — it could not well be otherwise — but what of 
 that ? there were no smart men amongst them. Smartness 
 to him was every thing. It was the embodiment of all the 
 virtues, moral and intellectual — the only quality for which 
 man deserved admiration or respect. The estimate he 
 formed of his neighbor’s moral worth was not in propor- 
 tion to his integrity of character, but to his ability for 
 speculating and driving hard bargains. The man who con- 
 tented himself with a competence and a quiet life at home 
 he despised ; but the jobber in stocks, who was smart 
 enough to make a lucky hit on ’change, though he risked 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 123 
 
 half a dozen men’s fortunes on the chance, was the man 
 after his heart. Such were Mr. Weeks’s sentiments. 
 Nor was he much to blame for them either ; for he was 
 bred and born in the midst of speculators. Every man 
 he met in the street, from the newsboy to the judge, 
 from the policeman to the governor, was a speculator in 
 something. He began himself, in his very infancy, to 
 speculate in marbles and hobby-horses ; and if he made 
 but a cent a week, his father patted him on the head, 
 and prophesied his future greatness. When arrived at 
 man’s estate, he found himself in the company of young 
 men, whose sole study was to make money in the easiest 
 manner and shortest time. He saw them everywhere 
 engaged in some kind of traffic, — no matter what, if it 
 only happened to be profitable. Whilst in other coun- 
 tries each grade in the community had its own legitimate 
 trades and occupations, it was the very reverse in the 
 States. There it was a universal scramble, in which 
 everybody snatched' at what came handiest. The tailor 
 dropped his needle and mounted the stump ; the lawyer 
 burned his briefs to trade in molasses ; the shoemaker 
 stuck his awl in the bench and ascended the pulpit ; and 
 the shopboy flung his yardstick on the counter and went 
 off to edit a Sunday newspaper. Surrounded on all 
 sides by such influences, what could Mr. Weeks have 
 possibly been but what he was — a speculator in chances 
 — a man of one idea — one object — one aspiration — 
 money ? Learning was nothing in his estimation, if it 
 failed to realize money ; nay, the highest mental accom- 
 plishment was not only valueless, but contemptible with- 
 out money. In this respect Mr. Weeks represented a 
 large class of his countrymen of New England ; — we say 
 a class, for it would be unjust to say more. He was not 
 an American gentleman, by any means, either in habits 
 or education. That was plain the instant he spoke a 
 word or moved a muscle, and those of his fellow-citizens 
 who could rightfully claim that distinction would never 
 have recognized him as one of their number. He was, 
 in short, a Yankee, — a man to be met with every day 
 
124 
 
 MABY LEE, OR 
 
 arid every where — on the sidewalks — at the banks — 
 in the theatre ^ — in the cars — standing at hotel doors 
 picking his teeth — selling soap at cattle shows — or 
 lobb^dng for a patent right behind his agent^s back in 
 the Senate House. But to return. 
 
 With such views and sentiments as we have here 
 ascribed to Mr. Weeks, it may be easily conceived with 
 what assurance of success he landed in Ireland, and 
 with what confidence he entered on his plans and specu- 
 lations. The possession of Mary Lee as his lawful 
 wedded wife was the great secret of his journey. Why 
 it was so the sequel must tell. It appears, however, he 
 had but a limited time to accomplish his designs ; for 
 hardly had he reached Crohan, when he called to see 
 Else Curley. The reputation she had acquired, all the 
 country round, and the wonderful stories told of her 
 power over the spirits of the nether world, led him to 
 think he could win her to his interest by tempting her 
 cupidity, and that she, as a secret agent, might do what 
 it would otherwise require a long courtship to effect. 
 How his expectations were met in this respect, will be 
 seen in due course of the story. For the present we 
 must leave him to battle with the storm as best he may, 
 after his desperate but disastrous rencontre with Nan- 
 nie,^^ and follow Else and the stranger to the Cairn. 
 
THE YANKEE IN IKELAND. 
 
 125 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 The Outlaw^ s Interview with Else Curley. — Her Hatred 
 of the HardwrinkleSj and its Cause. — Barry evades 
 the detective Officers. 
 
 When Else had placed a rush light in the wooden 
 candlestick affixed to her spinning wheel, and thrown 
 off her gray cloak, she drew a small silver-mounted 
 pistol from her bosom, and laying it on the table, mo- 
 tioned the young man to a seat. 
 
 How come ye here. Master Randall, at this hour ? 
 she demanded. 
 
 The fates drove me, I suppose, replied her guest, 
 smiling. 
 
 Psaugh ! — this is no time to play the fool ; — why 
 are ye here, I say ? drawing down her shaggy eye- 
 brows, and looking sternly at him as she spoke. 
 
 Why, how now ! exclaimed the stranger ; is 
 Nannie sick, or old Batt^s fiddle broke, that you’re so 
 much out of sorts ? ” 
 
 Master Randall, look at that weapon,” said Else. 
 I risked my life for yer sake and hers within this fery 
 hour, and carried that with me to defend it. 1 made 
 this Yankee feel he was in my power, and for that raison 
 didn’t know the minute he’d silence my tongue forever 
 with a pistol ball or a dirk knife. Now, I ask ye, is it 
 manly in ye, after this, to come back here again to idle 
 away yer time, tryin to get a word or a look at this 
 silly girl, when it’s in Dublin or Cork ye’d ought to be 
 strivin to keep her and her uncle out iv the walls of 
 a jail. Hoot, toot, sir, I thought there was more i’ the 
 man in ye.” 
 
 Well, of that,” replied Randall, (for we must call him 
 so in future,) of that I can say little ; but be assured. 
 Else, no trifling obstacle could balk me on such an errand. 
 Nothing but absolute necessity compelled me to return.” 
 
 11 * 
 
126 
 
 MARY LEE, OK 
 
 Necessity I 
 
 Yes. The police headed me off below Burnfoot, 
 after landing from the ferry, at Rathmullan, and chased 
 me through Buncrana to Lambert’s Point, where you 
 brought the boat to my relief.” 
 
 So ye escaped in the skiff, yesterday, I suppose, from 
 Dunree.” 
 
 Yes ; just had time to jump in, cut the painter, and 
 shove off, when three of my pursuers sprang down after 
 me on the beach.” 
 
 And fired ? ” 
 
 One of them, only. The ball hit me on the head, 
 but did no harm.” 
 
 Humph ! ” said Else, sitting down slowly on her low 
 creepie stool,” and so the bloodhounds got on yer 
 trail, after all.” 
 
 Yes, fairly started me,” responded Randall ; when 
 they’ll run me down, however, remains yet to be seen.” 
 
 It looks strange,” said Else, half speaking to her- 
 self. 
 
 What ? ” 
 
 How they knew ye in that disguise.” 
 
 It does look a little strange, I must confess,” replied 
 Randall ; for I thought it impenetrable to every eye 
 but those of Else Curley and Mary Lee. Judge of my 
 astonishment, then, when I beheld straight before me, on 
 the first public house door I passed, a full length figure 
 of myself in this very dress.” 
 
 Tell me,” said Else, after a moment’s reflection, 
 didn’t ye wear that dress ornst at Father John’s ? ” 
 
 I did ; but it was night then, and no one saw me 
 except the priest and his housekeeper.” 
 
 '' Don’t be too sure i’ that. Master Randall.” 
 
 Quite sure.” 
 
 Humph ! didn’t ye tell me about passin somebody 
 that night, on the road near Crohan gate house, that 
 seemed to look sharp at ye ? ” 
 
 '' Crohan gate house — let me see. Yes, I remember 
 now. 0, that was some traveller — I suspect.” 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 12T 
 
 Was he a tall, thin, dark lookin man ? 
 
 Yes, rather/^ 
 
 Wore crape on his hat ? ” 
 
 Yes/^ 
 
 I thought so/^ 
 
 Who was he ? 
 
 '' Robert Hardwrinkle, of Crohan/^ 
 
 What ! your great enemy — this Yankee^s cousin ? 
 That very Yankee^s cousin. He^s the man that be- 
 thrayed ye.^^ 
 
 No, no. Else, you must be mistaken. Mr. Hard- 
 wrinkle^s a gentleman, and could never be guilty of so 
 treacherous an act.^^ 
 
 Cudn^t he ? 
 
 ''No, Else, it^s nothing but your inveterate hatred of 
 the man makes you suspect him.^^ 
 
 " Hoot, toot. Master Randall ; don^t be foolish, re- 
 plied Else. " I know what he is, kith and kin, for three- 
 score j^'ears an more. Ay, ay, to my own grief I know 
 him. But let him look to himself, for the timers not 
 far away when the long recknin at ween him and me must 
 be settled — let him look to himself. 
 
 "Do the man no harm on my account,’^ said Randall ; 
 "if he has really sent these officers on my track, it^s 
 only what a thousand others had done with as little 
 shame or scruple. For my part, I forgive him, nor 
 would I hurt a hair of his head this moment if he lay at 
 my feet.^^ 
 
 " 0, forgive him, an welcome, said Else, " since yer 
 so good a Christian ; forgive him, by all manes. Fm 
 sure it^s none o’ my business if ye forgive him, and 
 marry his lean sister Rebecca, the psalm-singer, too, 
 into the bargain. All I say is, let him be ready ; for 
 there’s an account atween him and me that nothing but 
 his cowardly blood can settle.” 
 
 " Why, Else, this is sheer madness,” said Randall, 
 reprovingly. " How is it the very thought of this man 
 inflames your resentment so much.” 
 
 " So well it might,” responded Else, raising her head 
 
128 
 
 MARY LEE, OR 
 
 and folding her arms on her hard, weather-beaten breast, 
 as she looked across the table at her companion. So 
 well it might. Listen to me, Randall Barry. If this 
 man^s father first brought your only sister to sin an 
 shame, and then sent yer brother to die with irons on 
 his limbs in a strange land, for no other earthly raison 
 than because he demanded satisfaction for the injury done 
 his own flesh and blood — if he turned out yer mother, 
 ould and helpless, from the homestead she was born in, 
 and her people afore her, for three generations — when 
 the father died, if the son sent yerself to jail twiste in 
 five years on false charges — when ye came out and 
 built with yer own hands a sheelin to shelter ye from the 
 storms on these blake mountains, if he burnt it over yer 
 head — ay, and if he driv ye at last, Randall Barry, as 
 he druv me, to burrow here lake the ^ brock ’ on the 
 crags of Benraven, — I ask ye, would ye forgive him, 
 if he did that to you an yours ? An ye felt his neck 
 undher yer heel, wudn^t ye crush it down — down in 
 the dust with as little pity as ye^d feel for the wasp that 
 stung ye ? 
 
 ^ '' Not replied Randall, not I. To kill even an 
 enemy, whom you happen to find in your power, is an 
 act of cowardly murder. And, believe me. Else, your 
 own sleep would be none the sounder in the grave for 
 having this man^s blood upon your hands ? 
 
 '' And yet,^^ retorted Else, '' you and yer companions 
 id stain yer hands with the blood iv thousands, that did 
 ye far less wrong than he did me.’^ 
 
 Perhaps so ; but in broad daylight, at least ; not 
 assassin-like, in the dark.^’ 
 
 I see no difference, replied Else, night or day — 
 it^s only death. 
 
 '' Ay, but surely iPs a less crime to put the enemies 
 of your country and of human liberty to death in a 
 fair field and open fight, than to commit a midnight 
 murder like a cutthroat or incendiary, with the dirk or 
 the brand. 
 
 Who spoke of dirk or brand ? demanded Else. 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 129 
 
 \ 
 
 *'You did/^ replied Randall, promptly. ''You did a 
 dozen times within the month. And now my fear is, 
 your new charge against this man will bring down your 
 long-threatened vengeance on his head sooner than I 
 anticipated. But hear me. Else Curley, — 
 
 " Hould yer tongue, Randall Barry, interrupted the 
 old woman, " hould yer tongue ; yer but a silly boy. 
 Pshaugh ! it^s little ye know iv Else Curley i^ the 
 ' Cairn. ^ What ! ye think after waitin and watchin for 
 my hour of revenge so many long years, Fd bungle it 
 now for your sake ? Ha ! ha ! poor foolish boy ! D^ye 
 think a woman like me, that fursaked God an salvation 
 thirty odd years ago, for fear theyM come atween her 
 and her dark thoughts — a woman whose hopes iv ven- 
 geance, day after day, were like draps iv new life blood 
 to her withered heart — d^ye think an outcast like me, 
 a bein that men dread to look on, an women spake of 
 undher their breath, wud drag out life as I did, for 
 no other raison or motive, but waitin patiently for my 
 hour to come ? D’ye think, I say, Randall Barry, I^d 
 let the paltry matter of his bethrayin you to the spies 
 of the Castle bring down the blow one minute sooner 
 than it ought to fall ? Pshaugh ! man, ye don^t know 
 me yet.^^ 
 
 " I know you to be a dangerous woman, responded 
 Randall, rising from his chair, and buckling his belt 
 tighter round his waist, as if preparing to leave. " But 
 I warn you,^^ he continued, " I warn you I shall be no 
 party to this contemplated murder ; and, much as you 
 have befriended me. Else Curley, I shall, nevertheless, 
 do all in my power to thwart your wicked designs. 
 Rebel and felon as I am, I shall never abet or connive 
 at murder, notwithstanding.^^ 
 
 ' " And what then ? again demanded Else — " wud ye 
 turn informer ? 
 
 " Assuredly — the instant you attempt to execute your 
 hellish purpose. 
 
 " Then,^^ cried Else, snatching the pistol from the 
 table, and raising up her tall form from the low stool on 
 
130 
 
 MAKY LEE, OR 
 
 which she sat, till she stood erect as a statue before the 
 young outlaw, her gray eyes flashing fire and the 
 muscles of her face quivering with emotion as she spoke, 
 
 I swear to ye,^’ she cried, holding up the weapon in her 
 fleshless hand, I swear by them heavens I niver expect 
 to enther, if ye were my own born son, Eandall Barry, 
 an attempt to save that man from the clutches i^ my 
 vengeance, ye^ll die the death. 
 
 (( Tigress, muttered Eandall between his teeth, as 
 he threw on his sea cap and turned to quit the cabin. 
 
 Tigress, I despise your threats. 
 
 Stop,^’ said Else, stepping back and leaning against 
 the door ; stop, young man, and listen to me. It^s 
 now fifty long years since yer grandfather. Lieutenant 
 Dick Barry, saved my life at the risk of his own. It 
 was the day Colonel Clinton took Madeira. Pie carried 
 me in his own arms from the spot where my husband 
 fell. I made a vow then on my knees afore God, if 
 iver it come in my way to befriend him or his, IM 
 do it.^^ 
 
 /'I release you from your vow, said Eandall ; 'Met 
 me pass.^^ 
 
 " Be silent, boy, and listen to me again, cried Else. 
 " Youfll not pass here till I spake. Listen to me. I 
 love Mary Lee more nor iver I loved woman afore, barrin 
 the sister that died from me, in shame an a broken heart. 
 Ay, she died in these withered arms ; she died laiighin, 
 Eandall Barry, for she died mad — mad — mad; she 
 died with the bloom of seventeen still on her cheeks. 
 Listen to me. I love Mary Lee more nor iver I loved 
 woman but her ; and well I might, too, for it was these 
 hands saved her from the wrack of the Saldana ; it was 
 these hands untwisted her arms from her dead mother^s 
 neck, among the rocks of Araheera; and it was these 
 hands nursed her on Nannie^s milk for eighteen months, 
 till them came to claim her that had the right to claim 
 her. 0, no wondher she^s dear t^ me ; no wondher Pd 
 watch her an guard her like the apple of my eye. But 
 still, much as I love her, an much as I love yerself, 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 131 
 
 Randall Barry, for yer granfather^s sake, still, I say, as 
 there^s a heaven above me, Vd j’ather see ye both dead 
 at my feet this minute, than part with the hope of payin 
 back the Hardwrinkles, mother an son, for the wrongs 
 they did to me an mine. Ha, ha ! laughed the old 
 woman bitterly, as she grew more and more excited ; 
 
 ha ! ha 1 they burned my cabin twiste to the groun, and 
 driv me out to sleep at night with the black cock an the 
 plover, an to wandher by day over the dreary mountains, 
 hungry and barefoot ; but their hour^ll soon come. Ay, 
 ay, Fll be even with them yit. Ha ! ha I let them look 
 to themselves ; the blind fiddler^s wife, the worker of 
 spells and charms, the woman thatM sell her soul for 
 money, ould Else Curley the ' Cairn, ^ has strength an 
 courage enough left yit to handle a dirk or fire a fagot. 
 
 Randall gazed at her with astonishment as she spoke. 
 Her person seemed to dilate and grow younger as her 
 face swelled with passion. She had broken, with a sud- 
 den snap, the string that confined her cap, to relieve her 
 throat from a sense of suffocation ; and now, as her short 
 gray hair fell in tufts over her forehead and cheeks, she 
 looked like a pythoness, breathless under the frenzy of 
 inspiration. 
 
 My God,^^ said Randall, still gazing at her as she 
 stood before him, is it possible that so much gratitude 
 and love can exist in the same breast with such demoniac 
 hatred for a fellow-creature ? Here is a woman — ay, a 
 very woman — who has lived since before I was born 
 on the bare hope of being one day able to revenge her 
 wrongs. That hope was the only ray of consolation that 
 ever fell on her desolate heart. How great must have 
 been her injuries to have earned so terrible a resentment I 
 And yet this creature loves Mary Lee like a mother, 
 and already has risked her life, more than once, to save 
 mine.^^ 
 
 Else,^^ said he, at length, laying his hand kindly on 
 her shoulder, I pity you from my heart. Sit down and 
 compose yourself. I would speak with you more rea- 
 sonably on this subject. 
 
132 
 
 MARY LEE, OR 
 
 She obeyed him instantly, for the touch of his friend- 
 ly hand softened her moxe than words could have done. 
 
 "'Tell me,^^ said Randall, "is this Yankee, this cousin 
 of the Hardwrinkles, to be included in the catastrophe ? 
 
 " No /^‘replied Else. 
 
 " What business have you with him, then ? 
 
 " I make use iv him to sarve my own ends — nothin 
 more.^^ 
 
 "And these are — 
 
 " First, that heM supply me with money for thravellin 
 expenses ; an, secondly, that he^d be an excuse for drawin 
 me about Crohan, to watch my chances. 
 
 " Ha ! I understand you. But the travelling expenses 
 — where — ? 
 
 " Connecticut, or wheriver else he came from. We 
 must send a thrusty messenger to make out where he 
 lives, and ye may be sure Edward TalboFs not far from 
 that.^^ 
 
 " So you^l employ his own money to defeat him ? 
 
 " Of coorse,*^ replied Else. 
 
 " And why, then, did you acquaint him with your 
 knowledge of the secret ? 
 
 " That he^d pay me the betther for keepin it.^^ 
 
 " Good ; but are you sure heTl not feel apprehensive 
 of your disclosing it to Mary or her uncle ? 
 
 " Not the laste in the worl,^^ replied Else. 
 
 " Still, the whole affair is but mere suspicion, after 
 all.^^ 
 
 " What ? about Mr. Talbot bein alive ? ” 
 
 " Yes.'^ 
 
 "Well, call it whatsomiver name ye plaze, it^s sartinty 
 enough for me. I niver thought any thing else but that 
 he was livin somewhere in furrin parts. 
 
 " And how will you account for this Yankee^s corre- 
 spondent speaking of the dying man as Lambton in that 
 letter of his you picked up after he left the cabin here ? 
 How can you account for that, if he be really Edward 
 Talbot 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 133 
 
 Quite easy/^ responded Else. '' It was the name he 
 went by in America. 
 
 Nonsense, woman ! you make the most absurd and 
 ridiculous suppositions ; would you have him change his 
 name with his country ? 
 
 Feth wud I, an good reason he had to do that same, 
 let me tell you. Didn^t he fire a pistol bullet at his wife 
 in her own room, with the child in her arms, the very 
 same evenin he come home after killing Captain Blenher- 
 hasset in a dewel that his own infarnal jealousy driv him 
 to fight for her sake ; an was there a corner in London 
 nixt day that hadn’t a bill posted up on it, offerin a re- 
 ward of a thousand pound to the first man ’id take him ? 
 Humph ! raison indeed ; bedad, I think that ’id surely be 
 raison enough for any man to change his name wheriver 
 he went. No, no, Masther Eandall, Edward Talbot’s 
 livin jist as sure as you’re livin, if he didn’t die since the 
 first iv May last ; an that very Lambton he writes about 
 is the man. Whether he gives himself that name for fear 
 the letter might fall into other hands, or whether Mr. 
 Talbot took the name himself, I can’t tell — but ye may 
 depind on it Lambton’s the man.’’ 
 
 Perhaps so.” 
 
 0, feen a doubt of it ; and ye’ll see that too, when 
 Lanty comes back.” 
 
 What, Lanty Hanlon ? ” 
 
 "'Ay, Lanty Hanlon ; ye heard of him, I suppose.” 
 
 " And saw him, too. Don’t you remember to have 
 recommended him to me two or three weeks ago, as a 
 trusty messenger to send on a certain important business 
 to Derry ? ” 
 
 " And ye sent him ? ” 
 
 " Certainly.” 
 
 " Well ? ” 
 
 " Well, he broke trust at the very outset.” 
 
 " Lanty Hanlon ! ” 
 
 " Ay, Lanty Hanlon. Instead of crossing the lough 
 at Doughbeg, he strolled down the shore to Ballymas- 
 tocker, to see a cockfight, and missed the tide.” 
 
 12 
 
134 
 
 MARY LEE, OR 
 
 0, feth, as to that/^ said Else, '' I wudn’t put it past 
 him. He^s the very ould lad himself in regard to cock- 
 fighting.^^ 
 
 Yes ; but he was made well aware of .the urgency 
 of the message, and should have postponed his personal 
 gratification till his return. 
 
 Postpone, indeed! In troth. Master Eandall, he^d 
 postpone goin to heaven, if there wus a cockfight fithin 
 five miles of him ; that an huntin\s his wakeness, poor 
 fellow. An what excuse did he make when he came 
 back ? ’’ 
 
 He never came back to make any. Instead of that, 
 he sent me word he was in the hands of the police for 
 beating a gamekeeper, and would see me as soon as he 
 got clear. 
 
 '^Humph!^^ said Else, ^^thaPs another of his wake- 
 nesses.^^ 
 
 ''It^s rather an odd kind of weakness, said Eandall, 
 laughing. 
 
 '' Well, iPs natural for him, poor fellow, any way ; the 
 whole breed of him hated gamekeepers for five genera- 
 tions back. And so the man was too many for him? ’’ 
 
 No, he made his escape then, but the police caught 
 him next day. It appears on his return he crossed the 
 mountain with his dogs, and met Lord Leitrim ^s game- 
 keepers, who gave him chase. Two of them he dis- 
 tanced, and the third he led into some lonely spot, beat 
 him there soundly, and then left him gagged with his 
 own handkerchief, and tied neck and heels to an old 
 hawthorn tree beside a well, where he was found next 
 morning, half dead from cold and hunger. 
 
 ^^IPs jist like him,’^ said Else, ''for the villain^s niver 
 out of mischief. But still he^s as true as steel when ye 
 keep him away from timptation.^^ 
 
 "And how is that to be done, pray? Will he not 
 meet with as much temptation on his way to the United 
 States and back, as he does here in the parish of Clon- 
 davadoc ? ^^ 
 
 " Not he,^^ replied Else ; " Pll trust him for that. The 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 135 
 
 minute he finds it’s on Mary Lee’s affairs he’s goin, the 
 sarpint himself wudn’t timpt him. But/’ she added, 
 correcting herself, I’m not sure yit whither he’ll have 
 to go at all or not ; may be somethin might turn up to 
 save the journey and the expinse too. It’s well to be 
 prepared, any way, you know.” 
 
 '' Certainly. But is Lanty so devoted to Mary as you 
 say ? ” 
 
 He’d lay down his life for her every day i’ the year. 
 There’s not a livin thing he loves like her in the whole 
 work” 
 
 Possible ? ” 
 
 Didn’t ye know it ? He cud sit lookin at her from 
 mornin to night, an niver be dry or hungr}^ And it’s a 
 mighty queer notion, too, he has about her.” 
 
 What’s that?” 
 
 '"Why, he thinks it ’id be a sin to love her as he’d 
 love any other girl.” 
 
 How so ? ” 
 
 Bekase she’s so good, he says. And it’s all come 
 of a drame he had onst about the Blissed Virgin. — Och, 
 och,” said Else, suddenly interrupting herself, an many 
 a purty drame I had of her myself in my young days, 
 when I ust to wear her scappler, and gather the May 
 flowers for her alther ; but them things is all over now. 
 I can niver drame or pray to her again, for the black 
 thoughts druv her image out iv my heart fer ivermore. 
 And Mary Lee, too, the poor child, whin she spakes to 
 me sometimes of an evenin, sittin out here on the hill 
 side, about the marcy of Christ, and. the bright heavens 
 above, an the goodness of God to them that repent, her 
 words and looks made me tremble all over like a windle 
 straw. — But, as I was saying,” she continued, wiping 
 her face with her apron, as if to brush away every thing 
 that could blunt in the slightest degree her keen and 
 long-cherished resentment, — ''as I was tellin ye about 
 Lanty ; he had a drame one night, when he thought the 
 Blissed Virgin come to him houldin Mary Lee by the 
 
136 
 
 MAKY LEE, OR 
 
 hand, and tould him to watch her an take care of her as 
 long as he lived, on her account/^ 
 
 A delightful illusion, I must confess,^^ said Eandall. 
 
 I^m not a Catholic, you know. Else, but there is a poe- 
 try in the Catholic conception of the attributes of the 
 Virgin which always had an inexpressible charm for me. 
 I once saw a beautiful little beggar girl at Florence, 
 kneeling before one of her shrines, her hands and eyes 
 raised in mute supplication for the crippled mother who 
 sat by her side, and I thought I had never seen a finer 
 picture of religion in my life.^^ 
 
 ''Well, well, dear,’^ ejaculated Else; "I don^t know 
 any thing about such picthers now ; I ust once, but that 
 timers gone. But, as I was sayin, since he dramed that 
 drame of the Blissed Virgin (God forgive me for mintion- 
 in her name) and Mary Lee, he can^t think of one with- 
 out the ither, an ivery wish of Mary^s is like a command 
 to him from heaven/^ 
 
 " How very extraordinary ! said Randall. 
 
 " The drame ? 
 
 " No, but that every one^s so peculiarly affected by 
 the words and looks of this girl.^^ 
 
 " Well, it^s jist the same with the children she taches 
 the Christen docthrin to down there in her little chapel 
 undher the rock ; theyM pit their very heads undher her 
 feet ; an what^s quarest of all, there^s a dog in the town 
 there below that tears ivery body he can get a hoult of — 
 the crossest animal iver run on four feet ; well, that dog, 
 the first minute he seen her, crooched at her feet, and 
 kissed her hand, jist as if she fed him with it all his life- 
 time ; and iver since, as soon as he sees her, he runs 
 away whinin afther her, and niver quits her company till 
 he leaves her at the lighthouse gate.^^ 
 
 " And old Drake, too, is very fond of her,^' observed 
 Randall. 
 
 " Hoot ! as for Drake, replied Else, " Drake can read 
 her countenance betther nor you or I can. He knows 
 who she likes an disn^t like the minute he sees them. 
 Sure, when she lay sick last Haliday, he niver left her 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 137 
 
 room night or day, nor niver as much as tasted mate 
 kind for a whole week, till Roger had to lift him on a 
 chair by her bedside and let her feed him with her own 
 hands. Roger swears he saw the tears fallin down the 
 dog^s cheeks, when he looked up in her face, and tuk the 
 food from her fingers.’^ 
 
 ^^She^s too good and too pure for me, Else,^^ said 
 Randall, thoughtfully ; '' and I fear such a creature could 
 never be happy with the heretic and revolutionist I am.^^ 
 
 Youll not be either long, if she marries ye,^^ said 
 Else ; take my word for it/’ 
 
 And why not ? ” 
 
 0, the Lord luck t’ye. Master Randall ; she’d make 
 a Catholic iv ye in three weeks ’ithout one word’s 
 spakin.’.’ 
 
 Indeed ! by what means, pray ? ” 
 
 Why, she’d make her religion look so good and holy 
 in yer eyes, jist by her ivery day ways, that ye cudn’t 
 help lovin it yerself. And as for the rest, she loves her 
 ould country as well as you, Randall Barry, woman an 
 all as she is, an wud suffer as willingly too, may be, if all 
 came to all. But hush ! didn’t I hear some noise 
 outside ? ” 
 
 No — it’s only the storm whistling in the thatch.’’ 
 
 Well, it’s time, any way, ye’d have somethin to ate 
 afther yer long race ; ” and rising from the ^ creepie,’ she 
 produced a cold fowl from the recesses of a little cup- 
 board concealed in the thickness of the cabin wall, and 
 laid it on the table. Then stooping, she raised up the 
 hearth-stone, and disappeared in the dark opening be- 
 neath with surprising agility for a woman of her years. 
 The action, strange as it was, did not appear to excite 
 the young man’s curiosity in the least ; he glanced merely 
 at Else as she descended, and then leaning his head on 
 his hand, composed himself to wait patiently for her 
 return. 
 
 As he sat there by the table in the dim light of the 
 rush candle, there was nothing about his person worthy 
 of special notice. His figure was light and graceful, his 
 12 * 
 
138 
 
 MARY LEE, OR 
 
 limbs well moulded and muscular, and his height, if we 
 could judge fairly in the posture he had taken, a little 
 above the middle size. His long black hair fell in dis- 
 order over the low collar of his blue jacket, from the 
 breast pockets of which the buts of a pair of travelling 
 pistols still peeped out. His cravat, as we have said 
 already, was knotted loosely in front, sailor fashion, and 
 revealed a neck by far too fair for a seafaring man, and 
 one it would have puzzled a detective officer to reconcile 
 with his general appearance. But if there was nothing 
 striking in his person, there was that in his handsome 
 face which gave character and interest to the whole man 
 — a shade of quiet melancholy, which at once impressed 
 the beholder with the conviction that the young outlaw 
 was no lover of war or bloodshed for the gratification 
 they afibrded him, but reluctantly adopted as a last and 
 desperate resource for retrieving the fallen fortunes of 
 his country. His countenance was calm and composed, 
 without a trace of the socialist or the red republican to 
 vulgarize its fine expression. 
 
 Ay, said he at length, his voice barely audible 
 as he murmured out the words ; '' let my father disinherit 
 me if he will, and the spies of the government dog me 
 step by step, till they drive me at last to bay ; still I 
 shall neither sue for pardon, nor fiy from the land of my 
 birth and my aflection to beg a home on a foreign shore. 
 To abandon Mary Lee would now be impossible, were she 
 as indifferent to me as the meanest peasant girl in the 
 kingdom ; but were she even dead to-morrow, and all 
 my hopes buried with her in the grave, I should wait 
 and watch, and bide my time to renew the contest ; I 
 should still cling to the hope that God, in his own good 
 time, would inspire the young men of the land to rise 
 once more — not as wranglers and brawlers — not as 
 mercenary anarchists and sordid demagogues, but like 
 Spartan brothers, to do, and dare, and die for their coun- 
 try's weal. To see that blessed day, I could eke out life 
 in the lowest caverns of my native hills. To behold the 
 sunburst, as of old, waving once more before an army of 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND 
 
 139 
 
 gallant young Irishmen — true to the sacred cause and 
 to each other — true to right, to justice, and to honor I 
 0, to see such an army in battle array on the sunny 
 slopes of old Clontarf, marching down, with fife and drum, 
 and colors flying, to drive the Saxon dogs from their long- 
 lost homes and pleasant firesides, and to be allowed to 
 strike one good blow myself for the sake of old times and 
 old memories — 0, Mary Lee, Mary Lee, much as I love 
 you, I could abandon you for this I But alas, alas ! years 
 must elapse ere it can happen ; meanwhile I wander 
 among the hills a rebel and an outlaw, hunted and pro- 
 scribed like the vilest malefactor. Be it so ; I have risked 
 my all on a single cast, and lost it. Well, I shall try to 
 abide the consequence as best I may. Let them hunt 
 me, and catch me, if they can. Fll disappoint them so 
 long as Pm able to fly or defend myself. When I can no 
 longer do either, I needs must submit. 
 
 There, said Else, emerging from the dark opening, 
 and laying a bottle on the table, from wJiich she had 
 already drawn the cork, ^'there^s a bottle of ould Port 
 that lay down there below these twenty years and more ; 
 take a drink of it with that cowld widgeon Koger left me 
 yesterday ; itdl do ye good afther yer day^s fatague.^^ 
 
 Randall had just emptied the first glass, laid it on the 
 table again, and was about to address himself to the cold 
 widgeon, when Else pressed his arm, and looked signifi- 
 cantly towards the door. 
 
 What^s the matter 
 
 Whist ! thaPs Nannie^s blate — there’s somebody 
 comin.’’ 
 
 '' 0, no, it’s the poor beast asking shelter from the 
 storm.” 
 
 Hush ! I know Nannie better — there it’s again.” 
 
 Randall rose quickly, threw on his sea cap, and but- 
 toned his jacket. 
 
 If they want me,” he said, they must follow me to 
 Aranmore. Good night, Else.” 
 
 To Aranmore ? ” 
 
 Yes — no possibility now of reaching Dublin by any 
 
140 
 
 MARY LEE, OR 
 
 other route. I hope to find a fishing smack there from 
 the Skerries, to take me ofF,^^ 
 
 '^Tak-e another glass, Master Randall. 
 
 No more — good night. Else ; and jumping into the 
 mysterious opening, he disappeared, leaving Else to re- 
 place the covering, remove the viands, and receive the 
 new comers, whose footfalls she could now hear distinctly 
 at the door. 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 141 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 Weeks thinks himself very ill treated, and the Irish the 
 most savage, beggarly '‘Varmint in all Creation — 
 He is conducted to a Wedding, and having taken a glass 
 or two, under Protest, dances an hdsh Jig, to the great 
 Delight of the Company. 
 
 It was now within a short hour of midnight, and 
 Weeks, drenched and weary, still plodded his lonely way 
 over the hills of Benraven. The night was very stormy, 
 and Mr. Weeks very much out of sorts. In truth, he was 
 troubled exceedingly, both in mind and body — especially 
 in the latter, for he had unfortunately lost his cap in his 
 rencontre with Nannie, and was obliged to use his pocket 
 handkerchief instead. It was a poor substitute, to be 
 sure ; but what else could he do ? He had already drawn 
 his coat tails over his head, but found it impossible to 
 keep them down on account of the violence of the wind. 
 Still, the wind and the rain together, though bad enough, 
 were not the worst he had to contend with ; the darkness 
 was the great difficulty, for he could hardly see his 
 finger before him,^^ nor tell whether he was going to Cro- 
 han, or back again by some circuitous route to Araheera 
 Head. Twice, indeed, he had the good fortune to meet 
 with benighted travellers like himself, who seemed to 
 know all about the roads, and took, as he fancied, very 
 great pains to set him right. They kindly informed him 
 he had lost his way, and gave him strict caution to take 
 the left hand road, which, curious enough, was the very 
 thing he intended not to do. But he was a stranger in 
 the country, and of course should take the directions of 
 those better acquainted with it than himself. Yet it was 
 now nearly two hours since he met the latter of the two 
 parties, and still, strange to say, he was as far from Cro- 
 han, for aught he knew, as ever. On he went, notwith- 
 standing — on he drove through the pitchy darkness. 
 
142 
 
 MABY LEE, OB 
 
 butting his bare head against the pitiless storm, and 
 seeing nothing but the lightning flash as it shot across 
 his face. Many a lusty malediction did he vent, that 
 night, on Ireland, and the unlucky day he first took it 
 into his head to speculate in matrimony on her barbarous 
 shore. At last, he topped the summit of a hill, which 
 must surely, he thought, be Benraven Scalp, and had 
 begun to descend the opposite side, when, much to his 
 relief, he heard a voice shouting through the storm, — 
 
 Hoagh ! 
 
 Hilloa I who^s that ? he cried, turning round ; 
 who goes there ? 
 
 Hoagh ! was again repeated. 
 
 Come nearer,^^ bawled Weeks, ^'come nearer; can^t 
 hear you with this infernal whistling. And no wonder, 
 for in turning, the wind blew the skirts of his sporting 
 frock about his ears, which kept flapping so rapidly that 
 he could hear nothing at all. Come nearer,^^ he re- 
 peated, come nearer ; I^m here on the middle of the 
 road.^^ 
 
 Hoagh I hoagh I 
 
 Tarnation to your ^ Hoagh ! ^ Hain^t ye got English 
 enough to tell what^s the matter ? ’’ 
 
 Hoagh ! 
 
 0, darn your gibberish — you^re the most confounded 
 barb — 
 
 Hoagh I hoagh ; 
 
 That^s it ; go it again. By thunder, he bellows like 
 an ox.^^ 
 
 Mhoagh I 
 
 Well, there ! By crackie, if you^re sick, it^s not with 
 the lung complaint, I reckon, any how. But hold on — 
 you may have got into some fix — hold on. Ifll find you 
 out, I guess. 
 
 Weeks, actuated by compassion for the sufferer, as well 
 as by the hope of gaining some information respecting his 
 whereabouts, began to grope his way towards his com- 
 panion in distress. He felt quite sure the unfortunate 
 man could not be far away, for it was impossible for 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 143 
 
 human lungs to make the voice tell at more than a few 
 yards, in the teeth of such a furious gale. With this 
 notion in his head, he commenced his search along the 
 road side, floundering, as he went along, through the 
 water tables, and tripping occasionally over tlie slippery 
 rocks which had fallen from the banks into the ditches. 
 As it was impossible to see any thing in the darkness, his 
 only alternative was to keep sweeping both hands out 
 before him in semicircles, like a swimmer, with the expec- 
 tation of at length touching something with life in it. 
 In this manner, he searched up and down, both sides of 
 the road, for a considerable time, calling lotidly to the 
 man in distress, but receiving no reply, and was at last 
 on the point of abandoning the poor wretch to his fate, 
 when he fancied he heard a heavy groan, as of some one 
 in his last agony, and stretching out both hands again, to 
 feel in the direction of the sound, stumbled once more 
 and fell forward. 
 
 Just as he had expected. Weeks felt something warm 
 and hairy under his open palms. 
 
 “Well, there ! he exclaimed; “the fellow^s got 
 corned and fell in the drain. I swow he has, and lost his 
 hat too, for his hair’s as wet as the very grass. Say ! 
 what’s the matter ?” he continued, shaking him. “ Say I 
 wake up, if you don’t want to die here right off.” 
 
 No answer came. 
 
 “ Look here ! ” and he pulled him by the hair of the 
 head, to make him speak. “ Look here I you’ve got 
 drunk — hain’t you ? ” 
 
 At this moment, and just as ho had inserted his right 
 arm under the helpless creature’s head, to raise him up, 
 a flash of lightning illumed for an instant the person of 
 the prostrate sufferer, and revealed to the astonished 
 eyes of Mr. Weeks the face and form of a young steer, 
 quietly chewing his cud under the shelter of a projecting 
 rock. 
 
 “ Heavens and earth, what’s this ! ” he exclaimed, 
 snatching his arm from under the animal’s neck, and 
 jumping on the bank at a single bound. “ Well, there ! 
 
144 
 
 MAHY LEE, OR 
 
 if that ain^t the darndest sniggle — I swonnie, if I didn^t 
 take the critter for a drunken Irishman, shouting for 
 help all the time. 0, Ireland, Ireland ; if there’s such 
 another country in all universal space — well — if there 
 be, I’d like to see it — that’s all.” 
 
 Not so fast, my fine fellow, not so fast,” shouted 
 somebody in his ear ; you’ve driven that baste far 
 enough. I’ll take charge of him now, if ye plaze, and 
 yerself too, into the bargain.” 
 
 Me ? ” 
 
 Ay, in troth, honey, just your very self. You’re the 
 queen’s prisoner.” 
 
 The queen’s humbug — for what, I should like to 
 know ? ” 
 
 ** Stealing that yearling.” ■ 
 
 Stealing ! You don’t say 1 ha, ha I ” 
 
 I do say.” 
 
 You’re mistaken, ain’t you ? 
 
 Not in the laste, my good man.” 
 
 Well, I kinder think you be.” 
 
 ^'Kinder think. Exactly — that’s one of the tokens ; 
 you’re a Yankee, it seems.” 
 
 Well, I always reckoned so — happened to be born 
 in New England, any how.” 
 
 ''Just so — in Ducksvdlle.” 
 
 " In Ducksville ! — why, how the thunder came you 
 to know that — eh ? ” 
 
 "Niver mind — I know more than all that, my fine 
 fellow. I know you’ve stolen three more of this same 
 stock from Benraven Mountain, within the last fortnight, 
 and this one makes the fourth.” 
 
 " My dear man,” said Weeks, " let me tell you 
 again, this is a great mistake — I’m a private gen- 
 tleman.” 
 
 " Peth, may be so. Hilloa ! come on here, Tom Hen- 
 ley — come on with the lantern ; ” and as the latter 
 came up, the speaker raised the light to the face of his 
 prisoner, and deliberate!}^ scanned his person from head 
 to foot. " Let me see — 8ix feet in height^ slender figure ^ 
 
THE YANKEE IN lEELAND. 
 
 145 
 
 knock-kneed, long sandy hair, gray frock and trousers, 
 several gilt chains, rings, brooches, &c. Very good — 
 3 ^ou^re just the person Pve been searching for these 
 three nights past. Come, my lad, you must trot to Mr. 
 Johnston^s.^^ 
 
 '' Well, rather not,^^ coolly replied Weeks. I 
 sorter think Fll sleep to-night at my cousin^s, Mr. Rob- 
 ert Hardwrinkle^s.’^ 
 
 Not till you see Mr. Johnston, first. Pm his bailiff, 
 and must do my duty. Come, sir, no more palaverin 
 about it.^^ 
 
 Look here ! exclaimed Weeks, as the bailiff laid 
 his hand roughly on his shoulder ; ‘‘ look here — hold on 
 a minute — don^t you think youh'e carrying this joke a 
 leetle too far ? I told you already I was Mr. Hardwrin- 
 kle’s cousin-german.^^ 
 
 What, of Crohan ? 
 
 Ye-e-s.^^ 
 
 Just so — precisely — thaPs another token. YouVe 
 been trying hard to pass for the foreigner visiting there. 
 
 Trying to pass ! My dear man, I^m that very indi- 
 vidual himself, and was on my way to Crohan, from Ara- 
 heera lighthouse, when I heard that animal — 
 
 Ha, ha! a likely story, indeed — on your way to 
 Crohan — here, on the very top of Cairncrit — three 
 miles farther from Crohan than when you left the light- 
 house, and the very animal weYe lookin for, too, in your 
 custody.^’ 
 
 Well, I reckon I must have been directed the wrong 
 way.^^ 
 
 "'And how did you happen to get in company with 
 the stirk ? 
 
 " Why, I heard the critter bellow, and seemed to 
 think it might be an Irishman shouting for help.^^ 
 
 " Ila, ha 1 upon my conscience, now, thaPs mighty 
 flatterin ; heard a stirk routin under the rain, and took it 
 for an Irishman in distress. 
 
 " IsnY he mighty cute, intirely ? said Henley. 
 
 13 
 
146 
 
 MARY LEE, OR 
 
 '' Wonderful — but tell me, Tom, didn^t Lanty say the 
 fellow generally carried a fishin rod with him ? 
 
 Ay, did he ; but who the deuce cud carry a fishin 
 rod with him such a night as this, when the strongest of 
 us can scarcely carry ourselves against the storm ? 0, 
 
 as for that, you needn^t be the laste afeerd in life ; he^s 
 the very man yer lookin for, as sure as your name^s Ned 
 Griffin/^ 
 
 Say, what Lanty d^ye mean ? inquired Weeks ; 
 
 Lanty Hanlon — eh ? 
 
 Niver mind, it makes no difference to you who 
 he is.’^ 
 
 Well, not much, I guess, but if I could see him just 
 as well as not, I might save you further trouble on my 
 account. Let me see — he lives in this here neighbor- 
 hood, somewhere — donH he ? 
 
 Come, come, my good fellow, this hoodwinking 
 won^t take just at present. You may be very smart, and 
 cunning, and all that, but I have had some twenty years^ 
 experience of gentlemen of your profession. So, come 
 on ; we^ll take you down here to one of these houses in 
 Ballymagahey for the night, and carry you before Mr. 
 Johnston to-morrow. You can then call on Lanty Han- 
 lon to give you a character, and as many more as you 
 plaze. Lift your feet and theydl fall themselves, he 
 added, grasping the unfortunate Weeks by the collar. 
 
 Come away out of this rain ; come, trot, my customer, 
 trot — youVe legs enough if you only use them.^^ 
 
 Trot h — 11 ! ” vociferated Weeks at last, losing pa- 
 tience ; if you don^t let go my collar this instant, Pll 
 blow your brains out. Away, you ignorant, beggarly 
 savages — darn you, to take me for a cow thief. Away 
 — make tracks this minute, or by — 
 
 Be aisy, my valiant fellow, be aisy,^^ said the bailiff, 
 still gripping him by the collar. 
 
 No, I shan^t — let me go — ITl not put up with this, 
 no how.^^ 
 
 DonH fret — weTl put you up, and in lavender, too ; 
 never fear.^^ 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 147 
 
 I tell you once more, Fm Ephraim C. B. Weeks, 
 cousin-german to the Hard wrinkles of Crohan/^ 
 
 0, thin, bad scran to the much ye need boast of the 
 connection, replied Henley, helping the bailiff to drag 
 him down the hill. 
 
 Unhand me, villains, unhand me ; Fm a stranger 
 here — Fra a foreigner. 
 
 And sure we^re only helpin to send you to foreign 
 parts again. 0, faith, honey, well accommodate ye that 
 way, and welcome. 
 
 ''Look here — hold on,^^ vociferated Weeks, as they 
 ran him down the hill ; "I want you to understand who 
 I am — I’m a citizen — a free-born citizen of the United 
 States, under the protection of the stars and stripes, and 
 I protest against this violence — I command you in the 
 name of my country to let me go.” 
 
 " Bedad, that’s very alarmin, Ned — isn’t it? ” 
 
 "Ha, ha! mighty alarmin, intirely,” responded the 
 bailiff. " He speaks like that Yankee fellow, in Dublin, 
 last week, who threatened the magistrate with the stars 
 and stripes, because he fined him five shillings for spit- 
 ting tobacco juice on a lady’s dress.” 
 
 In this way the bailiff, assisted by Tom Henley, con- 
 tinued to drag the unhappy Weeks down the south side 
 of Benraven Mountain, despite his solemn protest against 
 the outrage, and his frequent assurances of his innocence, 
 and finally succeeded in conveying him to a house in the 
 little village of Ballymagahey, where, late as the hour 
 was, a light was still burning. 
 
 As the party approached the house, several voices 
 were heard within, some speaking loud, some laughing, 
 others singing, and now and then the squeak of a fiddle 
 breaking out at intervals. 
 
 Without pausing an instant, the bailiff knocked loudly 
 on the door, and the next moment pushed in before him 
 Ephraim Weeks, haggard and torn, and dripping like a 
 water god. 
 
 The fiddle stopped short in the middle of Miss Me- 
 
148 
 
 MAEY LEE, OR 
 
 Cloud^s reel, and the affrighted dancers fell back, and 
 left the floor clear to the new comers. 
 
 Oj hierna! cried some one in a stage whisper; 
 he^s mad — see how his eyes rowl in his head — hedl 
 tear ns in pieces./^ 
 
 The young females, hearing this, took alarm, and ran 
 out of doors, screaming for protection ; the elder ones 
 ran after to bring them back ; the men shouted to the 
 runaways to stop in twenty different voices, till in a 
 shorter time than we have taken to describe it, the place 
 was a scene of unutterable confusion. Nearly all the 
 females had disappeared one after another. The hunch- 
 back fiddler jumped through the window with his instru- 
 ment under his arm ; and to make the din still more intol- 
 erable, the house dog set up such a howling outside as 
 if the world had actually come to an end, when the 
 bailiff, seeing how matters stood, stepped on a chair and 
 began to address the company, assuring them the man 
 was not mad by any means, but a notorious cow thief he 
 had arrested in the act of stealing Mr. Johnston ^s cattle 
 from the mountain, and then proceeded to give the details 
 of the capture. 
 
 Whilst the bailiff thus endeavored to quiet the appre- 
 hensions of the females. Weeks stood stock still in the 
 centre of a curious and wondering group — his hands 
 thrust down as low as he could drive them into his 
 breeches pockets, and his eyes wandering round and 
 round in search of some one to recognize him — but alas ! 
 the faces he saw there were all strange faces to him. 
 
 It was some time before the bailiff ^s repeated guaran- 
 tee of his prisoner's sanity of mind and peaceable dispo- 
 sition could induce the females to return to the dancing 
 room ; and when they did, each fair one, as she entered, 
 was seen to cast a fearful glance at the tall stranger, and 
 press closely by the side of her partner. Last came the 
 little fiddler, looking twice as big as when he fled through 
 the window but a moment before, and swearing all kinds 
 of anathemas against the bailiff and his prisoner for 
 exposing his instrument to the rain. 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 149 
 
 Still, amid all the noise and bustle, Weeks stood there 
 as calm and solemn as an undertaker. He was no longer 
 excited — that state of feeling had given way to a calm, 
 contemptuous, silent indignation. He felt precisely as 
 an unfortunate Irish Catholic feels in New England, 
 when arrested for robbery, and happens to reflect he is 
 the only stranger in the township, and without a friend 
 to say a word in his favor. But we must not stop to 
 moralize ; we can only say, — to borrow a line from the 
 poet, — 
 
 “We have seen such sights, but must not call to mind.” 
 
 Suddenly, however, Mr. Weekses attention seemed to 
 be attracted by the entrance of an active, curly-headed, 
 humorous-looking fellow, wearing a rabbit-skin cap jantily 
 set on the side of his head, and supporting a laughing, 
 dark-haired girl on his arm. 
 
 '' Say, hold on there, you,^^ cried Weeks, at length 
 breaking silence, and motioning to the new comer. 
 
 The individual made no reply, but hastened to escape 
 further observation by esconcing himself behind a door 
 in a remote corner of the room. 
 
 '' Look here ! persisted Weeks, breaking through 
 the group, and holding out his hand in token of recogni- 
 tion ; ''look here! — how do, old feller? got into a 
 sorter snarl here, and glad you turned up to see me out.’' 
 
 " Me I ” 
 
 "Why, yes — you’re Lanty Hanlon — ain’t you ? ” 
 
 " Ay, that’s my name.” 
 
 All right; I knew you by your cap as soon as you 
 entered. Well — I want you to clear up a mistake. 
 This here bailiff, or constable, or whatever darned thing 
 you call him, has arrested me for stealing a steer, up 
 thereaway — ha, ha I — and won’t believe I’m Mr. 
 Ephraim Weeks, no how you can fix it.” 
 
 " Mr. Ephraim Weeks ! ” muttered our friend Lanty, 
 slowly repeating the words, and looking up in affected 
 wonder in the man’s face ; " Mr. Ephraim Weeks — 
 you’re a stranger in these parts.” 
 
 13 * 
 
150 
 
 MARY LEE, OR 
 
 Why, what d^ye mean ? 
 
 No offence in the world, only youVe the Vantage of 
 me/^ 
 
 Advantage ! HowV that ? 
 
 Why, I don^t remimber iver to see you afore/^ 
 
 You donH, eh ? Look at me again/^ 
 do/^ 
 
 Why, darn ye, hainY ye seen me every day this 
 month past ? 
 
 Me ! bedad, may be so. Whereabouts, if itV a fair 
 question ? 
 
 Now, you go to grass, cried Weeks; '^you know 
 me as well as I know myself. 
 
 Faith, and that same mightn^t be much to brag of 
 aither.^^ 
 
 '' Why, tarnation* tVe, hain^t you sold me two dozen 
 flies, last Thursday, at Kindrum Pond ? 
 
 I sell you flies ? Ha, ha, ha I Why, upon my con- 
 science, my good fellow, you must be ravin. 
 
 Well, there ! exclaimed Weeks, looking at the 
 imperturbable Lanty as if he could run him through ; 
 then drawing a fly-book hastily from his pocket, he 
 pulled it open, and holding the flies before Lanty^s face, 
 demanded to know if they were of his dressing or not. 
 
 Mine — begorra, it wudnY be aisy to tell that in the 
 state they Ye in now, any way.^^ 
 
 Ladies and gents, said Weeks, appealing to the by- 
 standers, I vow I bought these flies from this here 
 fellow last Thursday. And, whatY more, he stuck me in 
 them too, to the tune of twenty-five cents apiece. 
 
 '' Why, donY they ketch ? inquired some one in the 
 crowd. 
 
 Ketch — no, guess they donY ketch — theyYe the 
 darndest things ever fell in water. W"hy, I never could 
 turn a tail with them, if I fished till doomsday. 
 
 I admit, said Lanty, I sold flies to a gentleman of 
 the name of Weeks ; the gentleman thatY on a visit to 
 Hardwrinkles, of Crohan.^^ 
 
 And thunderation to ye ! ainY I that same Weeks ? 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 151 
 
 You ! ha, ha, ha ! Begorra, that^s capital — you 
 Mr. Weeks.^^ 
 
 '' What ! will you dare deny me to my face, you scoun- 
 drel ? 
 
 Deny you ? 0, holy patience, did man or mortal 
 
 iver hear the like ? 
 
 '' Shut up, you lying rascal, shouted Weeks, gesticu- 
 lating at his innocent-looking tormentor ; shut up, you 
 unprincipled scamp ; you know in your soul who I am 
 
 — if you have a soul — but you hain^t, — dang the one 
 you have ! 
 
 0, my poor man,^^ responded Lanty, looking at his 
 victim with all the gravity of a judge about to pronounce 
 sentence, and shaking his head sorrowfully as he spoke, 
 
 — "^my poor man, how hardened a sinner you must be, 
 to pass yourself off for the good, innocent, modest 
 gentleman that^s now lyin sound asleep in his vartuous 
 bed ! 
 
 Well, if there be a devil on earth,^^ exclaimed Weeks, 
 
 youh’e that individual, or his nearest relation, that^s 
 sartin. You stepped out from the lower regions to-night 
 to get a cooling, and met me some two hours ago on the 
 mountain. You’re the person planned and played this 
 here trick — no mistake about it.” 
 
 Isn’t he bowld spoken to be a thief? ” said one of 
 the bystanders, nudging his neighbor’s elbow. 
 
 Ay, and purshuin to him, see how innocent he tries to 
 look,” replied the other. 
 
 0, the dear be about ye, man ; one i’ them fellows 
 that’s used to it ’d chate St. Pether.” 
 
 Whist! whist! boys,” remonstrated Lanty, waving 
 his hand for silence. Let him alone, let him alone ; we 
 shud niver rejoice, ye know, in another’s misfortune. 
 May be, if you were like him yerselves, ye wuldn’t care 
 to be laughed at.” 
 
 '' Come, come, my good fellow,” interposed the bailiff, 
 '' you’re only making matters worse. Go somewhere and 
 get rid of them wet clothes.” 
 
 Ay, do, Mr. Stranger ; take a friend’s advice,” said 
 
152 
 
 MAKY LEE, OE 
 
 Lanty, and don^t expose your precious health. The 
 truth will all come out th^ morrow. If yer innicint, so 
 much the betther ; an if yer not, wh}^, yell only be thrans- 
 ported two or three months afore yer time ; so take 
 courage, and don^t be unaisy,^^ 
 
 Lanty ^s cool impudence at last so provoked the Yankee 
 that he could hardly restrain himself. Once or twice, 
 indeed, he hitched up his shoulders and showed symptoms 
 of battle ; but his resentment as often cooled down again 
 without further mischief. Like poor Bob Acres, Mr. 
 Weeks could never get his courage up to the fighting 
 point ; some how or other, it always escaped through his 
 fingers^ ends, like that of his illustrious prototype. 
 
 ^^Well, ladies and gents, said he at length, falling 
 back, as a last resource, on his soft sawder, '' well, I 
 must confess I feel a kinder disappointed. Now I do ; 
 that^s a fact. Why, it’s just like this — I always heard 
 the Irish cracked up all over creation for their hospitality 
 to strangers. At hum, in New England, they’re tip top 
 in that line. Well, they’re about as hospitable folks, I 
 guess, as you can scare up any where between Maine and 
 Georgia. We get along with them slick, I tell you. 
 And as for extending them the right hand of fellowship, 
 why, golly, we love them like brothers — ” 
 
 '^Phew!” cried Lanty ; just listen to that. He’s 
 puttin his foot in it deeper and deeper. 0, faith, my fine 
 fellow, it’s aisy seen ye niverwas much in New England, 
 or ye’d know a little betther how the Irish are thrated 
 there.” 
 
 Weeks suddenly drew in his horns — to use a homely 
 expression. He saw, in an instant, he had touched a 
 delicate subject, and the sooner he dropped it the better. 
 Like many of his countrymen, he fancied the Irish he 
 saw about him never could have an idea in their heads 
 above the pick or the spade ; a ragged coat and an Irish 
 brogue being in his mind synonymous with consummate 
 ignorance and absolute barbarism. He now felt he had 
 gone a little too far, and that any attempt to deceive his 
 tormentors by such barefaced humbug as he was then 
 
THE YANKEE IN niELAND. 
 
 153 
 
 attempting, would only make matters worse, since, to all 
 appearances, they knew as much about the persecution 
 their countrymen suffered in New England as he did 
 himself. The broad grin that overspread every face as 
 he Avent on to speak of the love which the citizens of 
 New England cherished for their Celtic brethren assured 
 him of this, even before Lanty could say a word in reply. 
 Affecting, therefore, to disdain further conversation on the 
 subject, after hearing the laugh with which Lanty^s humor- 
 ous but cutting rebuke was received, he turned to the 
 bailiff, and demanded to be taken forthwith to some rest- 
 ing place for the night. 
 
 You^ll get comfortable quarters, said Lanty ; never 
 fear ; but av coorse youTl take dhoch in dhorris * with us, 
 afore ye go, to the health of the new-married couple. 
 
 What’s that ? ” 
 
 Why, something to warm ye, after the cowld rain.” 
 
 Don’t drink,” said Weeks. 
 
 Nonsense.” 
 
 ''No, sir, I’m a Washingtonian.” 
 
 " A what ? ” 
 
 " A Son of Temperance.” 
 
 " Pshaugh — son of botheration. I’m ashamed of ye. 
 nilloa there ! Iludy Branagan, bring in the bottle.” 
 
 "You may bring in a hogshead,” said Weeks ; "I 
 shan’t taste it.” 
 
 " And you in that condition ! Why, the heavens be 
 about us ; d’ye mane to put a hand in yer own life ? ” 
 
 " None of your confounded business. I shan’t drink 
 your darned liquor — that’s all.” 
 
 " Well, ye’ll die if ye don’t — and that’d be a burnin 
 disgrace to the counthry, if ye were even as great a 
 thief as James Freny himself. Hoot, man, what’d yer 
 people say of us if we let ye die here in ould Ireland for 
 want of a glass of stout potheen ? Here, take this, and 
 swallow it, like a sensible man.” 
 
 " Away with it,” cried Weeks. 
 
 Stirrup-cup. 
 
154 
 
 MARY LEE, OR 
 
 ** Be aisy, avourneen, be aisy/^ 
 
 '' Take it away, or by thunder I’ll break your bottle 
 and glass in pieces ; ” and making a plunge, he attempted 
 to force a passage through the crowd, but was again 
 driven back into the centre of the group. 
 
 '' Let me out,” he shouted, now completely excited ; 
 
 let me out, ye beggarly Irish vermin. I despise your 
 liquor, and 3^our country to boot. I spit upon you and 
 your nation, for you’re both as mean as dirt.” 
 
 '' Ila, ha ! there now,” cried Lanty, laughing, with 
 the bottle and glass in his hands — ^Hhere now, that’s 
 more of yer New England friendship. But niver mind ; 
 if ye were a Yankee fifty times over, we won’t thrate 
 ye the worse for that. Come, take this drop — you’ll be 
 the betther of it.” 
 
 Let me out.” 
 
 Whisht, man ; sure it’s all for yer own good. Arrah, 
 don’t refuse to drink to the bride and groom. It’s as 
 much as yer life’s worth to refuse it. Take it ; it’ll 
 warm ye — taste it, any way — it’s the deuce i’ the 
 barley — it’s the rale ould Innishowen,” broke out from 
 several voices, each rising higher than the other, till poor 
 Weeks knew not what to say, nor what side to turn to. 
 Still he obstinately refused to touch the beverage. 
 
 Well, boys,” said Lanty, at last, take hould of him, 
 and lay him down, since nothin else will save him. 
 Whatsomiver the craythur is, we’re Christians sure, any 
 way, and can’t let him die fur want of a thrifle i’ medi- 
 cine. It’s a liberty we take, my good man, to be sure, 
 but still it’s betther do that, than have yer death on our 
 sowls, the lor between us an harm.” 
 
 The sorrah take him, the spalpeen,” said one of the 
 bystanders ; ''isn’t he nice about it? feth, ye’d think it 
 was a physic he was goin to swallow.” 
 
 " Begorra, I niver heerd the like of it.” 
 
 " It’s a bad sign to see him refuse the liquor, any way.” 
 
 "Indeed, then, Andy, it’s the truth ye’re tellin; so it 
 is ; for in troth it’s not much depindince iver I had in 
 the man ’d refuse a glass in dacency.” 
 
THE YANICEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 165 
 
 '' 0, there^s a bad dbrop in him ; ye may take yer oath 
 iv that ; but look at Lanty, Ned, just luck at his face — 
 as sober as if it was cut on a tombstone. Did ye iver 
 see such a born devil in all yer life ? 
 
 ''Well, Lanty had it in for him, any way. And, 
 begorra, he desarves all hedl get and more, for he^s niver 
 aisy, they say, but when he’s running down the Irish.” 
 
 " So I’m tould. He thinks no one in the whole 
 country fit to spake to him. As for the Doghertys, and 
 Currans, and Johnstons here, why, they’re not fit to tie 
 his shoes.” 
 
 " Ladies and gentlemen,” exclaimed Lanty, stepping 
 up on a bench, and still holding the bottle and glass in 
 his hands, I’m goin to give ye a toast, and may the 
 man’s heart niver again warm to good nature, that doesn’t 
 drink it.” 
 
 " Silence, there, silence — till we hear the toast.” 
 
 " Stop that fiddle there, and listen to the spaker.” 
 
 " Here’s then to the honest man,” cried Lanty, raising 
 his glass — " here’s to the honest man all over the world, 
 and confusion to the narrow-minded knave who’d make 
 religion or birthplace a test of friendship ; ” and tossing 
 off the bumper, he ordered the company to pass the 
 bottle. 
 
 Kound went the toast, and off went the glass with 
 many a loud hip, hip, hurrah. There was shaking of 
 hands, and touching of cans, accompanied by snatches 
 of songs suitable to the toast, and pledges of friendship 
 to one another, not forgetting long life and happiness to 
 the bride and groom ; all seemed joyous and happy as they 
 could wish to be. Weeks alone excepted, who still stood 
 in the centre of the crowd, looking silently on the njDisy 
 enjoyments of the company, and obstinately refusing all 
 participation in the hilarity of the occasion. 
 
 " Where, in the name of patience, were you born at 
 all,” demanded the bailiff, " that you won’t drink at a 
 weddin ? ” 
 
 "He’s an unnatural-looking thief, any way,” exclaimed 
 another. 
 
156 
 
 MARY LEE, OR 
 
 Stand aside, boys,’^ commanded Lanty, waving his 
 hand from his elevated position, and let us give the 
 stranger fair play. He’s all alone here amongst us, and 
 we mustn’t be hard on him. Jemmy Bragan, fill that 
 glass, and offer it to him again. And now, my good 
 man,” he continued, addressing Weeks, ''you heerd the 
 toast, ' the honest man all over the world, and bad luck 
 to the knave who’d make religion or birthplace a test of 
 friendship ’ — will you drink it? ” 
 
 " No,” replied Weeks, " darn me if I do.” 
 
 " Then, gintlemen, lay him down and administher the 
 midicine.” 
 
 Four or five stout fellows now laid hold of the unfor- 
 tunate Weeks, and were deliberately proceeding to exe- 
 cute Lanty’s orders, when a new actor suddenly appeared 
 on the scene, and commanded them to desist. It was 
 the handsome, dark-haired girl whom the reader saw a 
 few minutes before entering the room, leaning on Lan- 
 ty’s arm. 
 
 " Shame I shame ! ” she cried ; " are ye men, to treat 
 a stranger in this way ? ” • 
 
 " Don’t be onaisy, Mary,” replied Lanty; "we don’t 
 intend him the laste harm in life.” 
 
 " Well, you’ve carried the joke too far already, Lanty 
 Hanlon; let him come with me — I’ll take care of him.” 
 
 " Why, Mary, it’s only a bit of a frolic he brought on 
 himself. He tould me a dozen times the Irish were no 
 betther nor savages, and we jist want to show him how 
 much he’s mistaken.” 
 
 " And you do this to a furriner, not a month . in the 
 country ; paugh ! pretty hospitality that ! ” 
 
 "He’s green, you know, Mary, and we want to saison 
 him.” 
 
 " Tut, tut ! shame, shame ! ” 
 
 "It’s for his own good — saisonin in time will make a 
 dacent man iv him.” 
 
 " Hould yer tongue, now, Lanty ; ye’d provoke a 
 saint ; hould your tongue, and let us out. I must go 
 and find some dry clothes for him, or he’ll die in this 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 157 
 
 condition. Stand back, gintlemen, if ye plaze, and give 
 us room to pass.^^ 
 
 '' Bedad, Mary, Fm afraid to trust ye with him ; feth, 
 may be heM take a fancy to ye, and cut me out.^^ 
 
 Whist, now, and let me go. That tongue of yours T1 
 hang ye up on the gallows yet, some day ; and taking 
 Weeks familiarly by the arm, in she led him unresistingly 
 from the crowd, and disappeared through one of the inner 
 doors of the apartment. 
 
 The dance was now resumed, and mirth and music 
 made the time pass quickly and merrily for the next hour. 
 Lanty danced with every girl in the room, and when he 
 could no longer find a partner, danced a hornpipe him- 
 self on a door, amid the shouts and cheers of the party. 
 Every one seemed to share in the general joy. Even the 
 grandparents of the happy couple, old as they were, took 
 each other’s hands, and went through some ancient sal- 
 tations to the great amusement of the younger specta- 
 tors. 
 
 On went the mirth and up rose the song, and the little 
 hunchbacked fiddler had just tuned his instrument once 
 more, and commenced to rattle away at a country dance 
 with renewed ardor, when, all of a sudden, a shout was 
 heard at the door, followed instantly by bravos, bravos, 
 echoed and repeated, till at last, in the midst of a wild 
 hurrah, in drove Ephraim C. B. Weeks, dressed in an old 
 blue swallow-tailed coat, and pantaloons that descended 
 but an inch or two below the knees, dragging in the young 
 lady who had so kindly rescued him from his late tor- 
 mentors, and in rather unsteady accents, commanded the 
 fiddler to '' fire up, and let him have something to dance 
 to.” Everybody now crushed and crowded round to 
 welcome him back. Those who but a short time before 
 were disposed to mortify him to the very utmost, in re- 
 venge for his insolent abuse of their religion and their 
 country, were the first to call for three cheers for the 
 
 bould American ; ” and foremost among the first was 
 Lanty Hanlon, who clapped him lustily on the back, and 
 14 
 
158 
 
 MARY LEE, OR 
 
 ordered the fiddler to strike up something with a sowl 
 in it, to shuit the taste of the jolly Yankee/^ 
 
 It is needless, dear reader, to describe what followed. 
 Weeks seemed to have abandoned himself entirely to the 
 excitement of the moment. How that excitement was 
 brought about, however, no one could tell. He drank, 
 and drank freely, — as was evident the moment he made 
 his appearance at the door, — but whether at the solici- 
 tation of his fair friend, or merely to preserve his health 
 after so long an exposure to the storm, was never dis- 
 covered ; certain it is he was completely fascinated by 
 his lovely partner, and danced with her as long as he 
 was able to move a foot — swearing all the while by his 
 crackie she was the finest gal in all creation, and 
 went through her figures like a real thorough-bred Yan- 
 kee, ^^no mistake about it.^^ 
 
 Here, dear reader, we must stop, leaving the finale of 
 this scene to your own charitable imagination ; for a de- 
 scription of our friend Weekses position on the stage, as 
 the curtain fell, is more than we should dare attempt. 
 One thing, however, we ought to mention, just to relieve 
 your anxiety ; he was conveyed safely home that same 
 night, and awoke in his own comfortable bed next morning 
 in Crohan house. 
 
THE YANKEE IN IE.ELAND. 
 
 159 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 Kate Petersham at Castle Gregory. — Dr. Henshaw^s 
 Catholicity proves rather strong both for Kate and the 
 Priest. — The Doctor, like Mr. Weeks, forms a very had 
 Opinion of Ireland and its Inhabitants. — Lanty plays 
 an Irish Trick. — Its Consequences. 
 
 Is Miss Petersham engaged, please ? said a servant, 
 opening the parlor door. 
 
 No : what' s the matter ? 
 
 Father John sends in his compliments.^^ 
 
 Father John ! — Is it possible ! exclaimed Kate 
 Petersham, wheeling round on the piano stool, and run- 
 ning to the door to receive him. ^^Ho, hoi indeed, so 
 there you come at last, and Uncle Jerry too ; surely 
 something extraordinary must have happened to bring 
 you all the way to Castle Gregory. Have you had a 
 conflagration or an earthquake in your neighborhood ? 
 
 Hold your saucy tongue,’^ said the priest, slapping 
 her affectionately on the cheek ; youh’e never done 
 scolding ; ’pon my word, I had better come here, bag 
 and baggage, and live at Castle Gregory altogether.^^ 
 
 Youfll do no such thing, sir — I hate you. YouYe 
 a barbarous man. Youhe the most unsocial, ill-natured, 
 hard-hearted creature in the whole world. 
 
 0, to be sure, because I don^t spend all my time 
 playing chess with the greatest mad-pate in Christen- 
 dom.^’ 
 
 '' Do you hear that. Uncle Jerry ? ” exclaimed Kate, 
 turning to Mr. Guirkie ; '' and the man hasn’t been here 
 to see us once in a month.” 
 
 Never mind ; we’ll have our revenge of him yet, 
 depend upon it. His neglect of you is absolutely un- 
 pardonable, after all your professions of regard for him.” 
 
 Pshaugh ! he’s not worth my revenge. I renounce 
 him ; I shall take you for my confidant in future, and 
 
160 
 
 MARY LEE, OR 
 
 leave him to his beads and breviary. So come over 
 here, to your old easy chair, and let us have a quiet chat 
 together ; and running her arm into his, she was hurry- 
 ing him away to a corner of the room, when the priest 
 laid his hand on her shoulder. 
 
 Not so fast, Kate ; not so fast. YouVe forgotten 
 there^s a stranger in the room. Miss Petersham, let me 
 present to you Dr. Henshaw, of Edinburgh, — Dr. Ilen- 
 shaw. Miss Petersham, of Castle Gregory, one of the 
 most mischievous and ungovernable of her sex.^^ 
 
 Don^t believe him, Dr. Henshaw. I^m no such thing. 
 Welcome, sir, to Castle Gregory.^^ 
 
 How d^ ye. do, my dear ? glad to see you,^^ said the 
 latter, bowing stiffly, and raising his gold spectacles to 
 look at her in detail. ** Don^t trouble yourself aboot 
 what Father John says. IPs not all gospel, I sus- 
 pect.^^ 
 
 Nor his preaching either, if what his bishop says be 
 true.^^ 
 
 Ha ! ha ! A very serious charge, indeed, laughed 
 Uncle Jerry ; and no doubt reason enough for it too.^^ 
 
 I see youVe been reading Swift, Miss Petersham, 
 said Henshaw, taking a volume from the table. ''Do you 
 admire him ? 
 
 " Swift — certainly. Did you ever see an Irish woman 
 who didn^t ? 
 
 "Well, I don^t remember, parteecularly, as to that. 
 But his moral sentiments are — 
 
 " Swift was an elegant writer, full of wit and humor 
 — and, best of all, he loved his country, and never was 
 ashamed to own it.^^ 
 
 " Ah ! and you think he deserves credit for that ? 
 
 " To be sure I do — why not? He lived in times when 
 devotion to his country and her cause was a disqualifica- 
 tion for offlce both in church and state ; besides. Dean 
 Swift was a near relation of ours by the AVilloughbys, as 
 my venerable aunt would tell you.^^ 
 
 " Ah ! — that indeed ! 
 
 " But don^t you like him, doctor ? ’’ 
 
THE YANKEE IN lEELAND. 
 
 161 
 
 No/^ replied the doctor, gruffly. 
 
 You don^t ! is it possible 1 Why, I thought Swift 
 was a favorite every where. 
 
 ''In Ireland — yes.^^ 
 
 " You must admit he’s witty and humorous, doctor.” 
 
 "Not very — but that, and a keen sense o’ the ridee- 
 culous, is about all that’s in him.” 
 
 "0, no, no, doctor, I won’t agree to that at all; you 
 quite underrate Swift. For my part, I think there’s more 
 sound philosophy in Swift than in any other work I ever 
 read.” 
 
 " Humph ! have you read much ? ” 
 
 " No ; sometimes, when the fit takes me, I pick up a 
 book and read a page or two here and there.” 
 
 " But do you study what you read ? ” 
 
 " No ; I’m too great a madcap for that. I can ride a 
 horse, though, or sail a boat, as well as any Irish girl 
 you’ll find ; and these are the only accomplishments I pre- 
 tend to lay claim to.” 
 
 "Not veiy feminine, I should think,” ejaculated Ilen- 
 shaw, pursing out his lips, and looking over at the priest, 
 with liis eyes dilated into what he intended for a smile. 
 
 "No, sir ; but they suit my turn of mind. And yet 
 Mr. Guirkie here will tell you I’ve got some philosophy 
 in me, too.” 
 
 " I’ll have nothing to do with your philosophy,” said 
 Uncle Jerry, pacing up and down the room, and bobbing 
 the skirts of his coat on his hands behind him. " I 
 wish to the Lord the captain was at home ; that’s all I 
 wish,” 
 
 " Father John, go to the sideboard there, and find some 
 refreshments,” said Kate. " Come, doctor, you must 
 pledge me in good stout Burgund}^, and I’ll forgive what 
 you said of Swift.” 
 
 "I shall wait for the captain,” replied Father John, 
 looking up from the newspaper ; " the doctor there will 
 oblige you at present.” 
 
 "You shall not, sir; he may not return for an hour 
 yet. Wait for the captain, indeed ! ^Vin’t I as good 
 14* 
 
162 
 
 MARY LEE, OB 
 
 company as the captain ? 0, Dr. Henshaw, these Catho- 
 
 lic priests are the most un gallant people imaginable. 
 
 Dr. Henshaw emptied the glass which Kate filled for 
 him, adding, as he laid it on the sideboard, you^re not 
 so mawkish, I perceive, as our young ladies generally 
 are.^^ 
 
 0, Vm only an Irish girl, you know ; I do what I 
 please — no one minds me ; Father John there once 
 thought he could manage me, but it failed him.^^ 
 
 Not I,’^ replied the priest ; I never was so silly as 
 to think any such thing. 
 
 You did indeed, sir — you needn^t deny it ; you had 
 me in leading strings for a whole week or more.^^ 
 
 '' How was that ? said Henshaw. 
 
 He tried to convert me — ha, ha ! Kept me reading 
 night and day — 
 
 Convert you ? — what, from sin ? 
 
 No, from Protestantism. Sin indeed ! why, doctor, 
 I'm ashamed of you.^^ 
 
 Well, Protestanteesm is sin — and a most grievous 
 sin, my good girl.^^ 
 
 There, now youh'e at it again, muttered Uncle Jer- 
 ry, still pacing the room in his usual way. You Ye at 
 it again ; I vow and protest itY outrageous. 
 
 ^Wou frighten me, doctor,^^ said Kate; '^upon my 
 word Pll run away and leave you.^^ 
 
 But doriY you know that if you die out o^ the 
 Kaatholic church youTl be lost ? 
 
 Listen to that,/^ exclaimed Kate. 
 
 I hear him,^^ said the priest; '^the doctors very 
 strong on that point. 
 
 Well, doctor, I^m not prepared to dispute with you 
 about the matter at present, said Kate, but Pm pret- 
 ty sure of one thing — you could never make a Catholic 
 of me in that way.^^ 
 
 HeY got himself into trouble again, said Uncle 
 Jerry, sitting down on a chair beside the priest. 
 
 He deserves it,^^ responded the latter, in a tone of 
 displeasure. 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 163 
 
 I declare I never saw a man in my life so fond of 
 differing with every body as he is. Why, I vow to good- 
 ness, I thought he was going to swallow me neck and 
 heels this morning in the boat, when I attempted to de- 
 fend Tillotson and Burnet. 
 
 '' That’s his greatest fault ; he can never dispute five 
 minutes without losing his temper. 
 
 '' And does he suppose people must put up with his 
 temper when he chooses to lose it ? I declare that^s 
 very fine.^^ 
 
 It^s a great weakness in him, and I^m sorry, for he^s 
 a man of great mental ability. 
 
 0, who cares for his mental ability ? I wouldn^t 
 give a brass button for a man who can^t talk with you on 
 any thing but great heavy subjects. And tlien he goes 
 at them in such a way too, with all his might, like a 
 dray horse starting a load.^^ 
 
 ''Heavy subjects are his speciality,^^ observed Father 
 John ; "he dbn^t pretend to handle any thing else. 
 And indeed, as a polemic and logician, he has very few 
 equals. 
 
 " But he does pretend to handle every thing else. 
 Why, he reviews every book he can lay his hands on — 
 stories, novels, poetry, every thing — from a primer to a 
 course of theology. Speciality indeed ! 
 
 " You’re right ; he has been doing something that 
 way of late, now that I remember. But the truth is, I 
 think so little of his literary criticisms I don’t care to 
 read them. He never should attempt to criticise such 
 books at all. -<»They are entirely out of the sphere of his 
 taste and acquirements.” 
 
 " To be sure.” 
 
 " And then he goes about them so awkwardly.” 
 
 " He, he, he ! ” chuckled Uncle Jerry ; " that reminds 
 me of his last number. Did you see his criticism on 
 Cameron’s Poems ? ” 
 
 "No — what does he do with it ? Strangles it, I 
 suppose.” 
 
 " Not at all ; he makes an exception to his rule. He 
 
164 
 
 MARY LEE, OR 
 
 praises it hugely. Cameron’s a Catholic, you know, be- 
 sides being a Scotchman.” 
 
 Ah, yes, there’s something in that.” 
 
 In speaking of some of the fine passages he tries 
 to be exceedingly nice in his appreciation of the beau- 
 ties.” 
 
 '' Nice ! ” laughed Father John ; that’s good ; I 
 must read the criticism.” 
 
 Do. It’s worth the reading, I assure you.” 
 
 '' But he must have gone about it very awkwardly.” 
 
 Awkwardly ! He reminded me of an elephant I 
 once saw picking up a bouquet with his trunk. He first 
 made a — ” 
 
 Hush ! here he comes, full of indignation at Kate’s 
 presumptuous boldness. See how he runs his thumbs 
 into his waistcoat pockets — that’s a sure sign he’s 
 ruffled. Kate,” he added, as an offset to further contro- 
 versy, can’t we have some music ? ” 
 
 '' Certainly — what shall it be ? ” 
 
 O’er the water to Charlie.” 
 
 '' Excellent — just the very thing,” she cried, opening 
 the piano and rattling away. How do you like it, 
 doctor ? ” 
 
 Well, so, so. Associations make it pleasant just 
 now.” 
 
 Makes you think of home ? ” 
 
 Yes.” 
 
 What think you, though, of our Irish music ? ” 
 
 a Very fair ; but it always gives me the blues.” 
 
 The blues ! ” 
 
 '' Yes. It’s so melancholy.” 
 
 Moore’s songs are, indeed, rather melancholy, but ex- 
 quisite of their kind, nevertheless.” 
 
 Yes — he’s a var}^ decent lyric poet — is Moore; 
 and still there’s nothing in him, after all, but sentiment 
 and fancy — he’s greatly wanting in force and power of 
 thought.” 
 
 That is to say, he’s neither Byron nor Milton.” 
 
 No, I don’t mean that, either. But he tires you 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 165 
 
 with the incessant play of his fancy. He is forever 
 hopping from flower to flower, like a butterfly. 
 
 '' Ah, then you adopt the criticisms of the Edinburgh 
 Review. 
 
 ''I adopt no creeticism. I make my own,^’ replied 
 Ilenshaw, gruffly. 
 
 Well, you think with the Scotch Reviewers, that his 
 poetiy is too full of beauties, and hampered too much 
 with imagery.^’ 
 
 I think simply this : lie was a vary respectable 
 songster in his way, but an immoral man a-nd a bad 
 Kaatholic.’^ 
 
 0, doctor, that^s not fair. I must protest against 
 your bringing up our poet^s private character. It^s not 
 magnanimous of you at all.^^ 
 
 '' Ilis poetry, take it all thro ugh, persisted Henshaw, 
 '' has done more to enervate and corrupt the minds of 
 the young, than any other I^m acquainted wi^ ; and do 
 you know the reason. Miss Petersham ? 
 
 Well, it was simply because in losing his faith he 
 lost his morality also.^^ 
 
 My dear sir, we have nothing to do with his faith, 
 replied Kate. Why, you drag faith into every thing. 
 Can^t we admire a man^s writings without first inquiring 
 about his faith ? 
 
 ''Yes, that^s vary true ; but it strikes me you value 
 faith too little, and for that reason you cannot properly 
 estimate a man^s writings. We Kaatholics deesapprove 
 of ail books and writings injurious to faith or morals. 
 You Protestants have no faith at all, and you let your 
 morals take care o^ themselves. 
 
 " flighty tighty,’^ muttered Uncle Jerry, running his 
 hands again under his coat tails, and pacing the room as 
 before ; " he^s at it again. 
 
 Father John rose also, and turning Kate round on 
 the piano stool, commanded her, under pain of his 
 sovereign displeasure, to play ‘‘ The last rose of sum- 
 
166 
 
 MARY LEE, OR 
 
 mer/’ with Henry Herz^s variations first, and then 
 sing it. 
 
 Now,^^ she exclaimed, when she finished the song, 
 — now, Dr. Henshaw, I put it to you as an hon- 
 orable man ; did you, or did you not, ever hear so equi- 
 site a song- as that ? 
 
 The words or the music ? 
 
 Both together, when played and sung as they ought 
 to be.’^ 
 
 Y-e-e-s, it^s light, and pretty, and fanciful, and — 
 
 '' No, no, sir. I shall not be put off with that ; but 
 tell me what poet ever wrote a song of its kind equal 
 to that ? I give you the whole world to find him ; not 
 even excepting your own Burns, Scott, Tannahill, and all 
 the rest.^^ 
 
 I never trouble myself much aboot such trifles, 
 responded Henshaw. I leave them to the boys and 
 girls. 
 
 I wish to goodness you would, muttered Uncle 
 Jerry, looking at the priest. 
 
 Just so,^^ replied the latter ; and if he only knew 
 
 himself well enough, he would. Ne sutor ultra crep- 
 
 Hillo ! what are you doing there, Mr. Guirkie ? 
 exclaimed Kate; '^chatting away with Father John, 
 and I all alone here with this great reviewer, trying 
 to preserve my countrymen from utter annihilation ; 
 come to the rescue, or he^ll not leave us one of them ; 
 all, forsooth, because they happened to be Protestants.^^ 
 
 What^s the matter ? inquired the priest, looking 
 over his shoulder. 
 
 << Why, he^s actually making mince meat of all our 
 celebrities. He has come down now as far as Burke, 
 and is cutting him up at such a rate that nothing will be 
 left of him, by and by, but the bones. 
 
 The priest threw his legs across, and pulled down 
 his waistcoat with a jerk, but said nothing in reply. 
 
 ** You^re growing angry, said Uncle Jerry. 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 167 
 
 No, Pm not an^ry ; Pm too well accustomed to him 
 for that/’ 
 
 Poor Kate’s as mad as a hatter ; look, how she shakes 
 her curls at him ! The man might try to be a little more 
 courteous, I think.” 
 
 Were h^ in any other place but Castle Gregory, he 
 wouldn’t come off so easily, I assure you,” responded 
 the priest. 
 
 There now,” cried Kate, running away from her an- 
 tagonist, and flinging herself down beside Uncle Jerry on 
 the sofa ; '' I shan’t dispute another syllable with him — 
 he has no mercy at all. He opens his great broadsides 
 on every thing indiscriminately, and goes firing away at 
 you, all the time, his ponderous logic. I never met so 
 tremendous a Catholic as Dr. Henshaw. He has mur- 
 dered me out and out.” 
 
 And why did you continue at it so long ? ” 
 
 '' What could I do ? Am I to be challenged at my own 
 fireside, and by a stranger, too, and not fight ? 0, could 
 
 I only get him once aboard the Water Hen, with a stiff 
 breeze from the southard, or on ^ Moll Pitcher’s Back ’ 
 for a morning’s heathing, if I wouldn’t have my revenge, 
 no matter.” 
 
 So you’ve surrendered at last, Kate,” said the priest, 
 walking over leisurely to the sofa, and tapping his snuff- 
 box on the lid. 
 
 Of course I have ; how could I understand all the 
 theories, and philosophies, and systems into which he 
 dragged me ? If he only could talk as other men do, 
 and on subjects that girls like me are generally ac- 
 quainted with, I might do well enough ; but not a thing 
 you can say but he reduces to logic in a minute, and 
 measures it by some one of his new theories, as a haber- 
 dasher measures his tape.” 
 
 '' He don’t give you latitude enough, Kate,” said the 
 priest, taking a pinch. 
 
 No, he holds you like a vice, and then so bewilders 
 you with his newly-imported principles and methods, and 
 so on, that you don’t know what you’re saying. But, 
 
168 
 
 MARY LEE, OR 
 
 Father John, could you guess how he tries to account for 
 the decay of nations ? 
 
 0, ho ! the decay of nations, no lessJ^ 
 
 '^Yes, indeed — a subject I know as much about as 
 old Thomas there. Thomas, tell Aunt Willoughby Father 
 John wants to see her.^^ 
 
 Well, let us hear how he accounts for it.^^ 
 
 Why, sir, he accounts for the decay of nations gen- 
 erally, and of the Irish nation in particular, by the laws 
 that regulate the circulation of matter. 
 
 Ha, ha ! Go, you mad creature, said the priest, 
 again slapping her on the cheek; ^^youYe making him 
 worse than he is.^^ 
 
 IFs a positive fact, sir,^^ persisted Kate. He says, 
 as the world is developed, the attractive power of new 
 countries becomes greater than those of the old, and 
 carry away from their weaker neighbors, through the 
 atmosphere, more than their share of animal and vege- 
 table life.^^ 
 
 Ha, ha, ha ! laughed Uncle Jerry, quitting the sofa, 
 and bobbing his skirts up and down the^ room. Ha, 
 ha ! the man^s fit for the mad house. I declare ! ac- 
 count for the decay of nations by laws regulating the 
 circulation of matter. 0, the Lord be about us — whaUs 
 the world coming to ? 
 
 That reminds me of an article I read in some maga- 
 zine last week, where the writer discovers the. antipathy 
 of the Irish to the English people to have originated in 
 tlie difference between the Roman and the Celtic civil- 
 izations.^^ 
 
 ''He went far back to find it — didiiT he ? said 
 Uncle Jerry, bobbing away as he spoke. 
 
 " He was right, neevertheless,^^ said Henshaw, who 
 had been listening. " I agree with him.^’ 
 
 Right or wrong, said the priest, " of what earthly 
 advantage is it to us to discover the cause — is not the 
 fact enough ? 
 
 "No, sir, it is not enough ; as a priest and a Chrees- 
 tian, you should feel happy to be able to ascribe this na- 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 169 
 
 tional anteepathy to a more creditable cause than the 
 memory of past eenjuries/^ 
 
 That rebuke is unmerited by me, Dr. Henshaw/^ 
 responded the priest, kindling up a little. I deplore 
 those unhappy differences between the two countries as 
 much as any man.^^ 
 
 And still youh'e never done dinning in our ears how 
 youVe suffered and bled, and all that, under the lash of 
 the Saxon — in Scotland we are sick of it.^^ 
 
 ''Humph! don^t doubt it in the least. There has 
 been, I must confess, rather too much of this clamor 
 about our rights and wrongs. But, my dear doctor, deli- 
 cacy, I think, should restrain you from expressing your 
 opinions so freely on this exciting subject. Miss Peters- 
 ham, you must be already aware, loves her country very 
 much, and cannot but feel hurt to hear you speak of it so 
 disparagingly.^^ 
 
 " Sir, I have never withheld my opeenions any where. 
 When I form opeenions, I am not ashamed to avow 
 them.^’ 
 
 " But I tell you, doctor, you ought to be ashamed to 
 avow such opinions as you have just expressed here. I 
 have listened to you in my own house, speaking in the 
 most contemptuous manner of our Irish writers and 
 statesmen, and borne with you patiently, for I was then 
 your host ; but I cannot sit patiently here and hear you 
 outrage the feelings of a young and gentle girl at her 
 own fireside, and on your very first introduction, because 
 she happens to be a Protestant, and is national enough 
 to feel proud of her countrymen. 
 
 Henshaw was about to reply, when the door opened, 
 and Mrs. Willoughby entered, carrying a letter in her 
 hand. She was evidently beyond threescore and ten, to 
 judge from the deep furrows of her cheeks and thin 
 white hair ; and yet she walked as sprightly and upright 
 as a girl of sixteen. Approaching Father John and Mr. 
 Guirkie with a smile of welcome, she extended a hand to 
 each, and expressed the pleasure she felt in seeing them 
 at Castle Gregory. 
 
 15 
 
170 
 
 MARY LEE, OR 
 
 Kate/^ she added ; '' where are you, Kate ? 
 
 Quarrelling with Dr. Henshaw,^’ replied the priest. 
 
 0, the wild creature. She^s always at some mis- 
 chief. Kate, here^s a note from Mary Lee.’^ 
 
 In a moment the delighted girl was at her aunt^s side, 
 and kissing her hand fervently for having carried the 
 precious billet, bounded off again to read it. 
 
 News for you. Uncle Jerry, she exclaimed, as she 
 ran her eye rapidly over the contents: Mary Lee comes 
 to-morrow, and you must stay to see her. You can^t re- 
 fuse, for you know how anxious you^^e been to converse 
 with her.^^ 
 
 Come over,^^ ^aid Uncle Jerry, and sit beside me 
 here on the sofa ; we must talk a little of your friend. 
 Do you really know who this girl is, or whence she 
 came, or what^s to become of her ? ’’ 
 
 Not replied Kate. All I know is, I love her 
 dearly, and that^s all I want to know.^^ 
 
 But of her father ? 
 
 She never speaks of him ; I never even heard her 
 mention his name.^^ 
 
 I declare I — isn’t that strange, and you so in- 
 timate ? ” 
 
 Very — she told me all about her uncle’s embarrass- 
 ment, though. She fears he can’t hold out much longer. 
 His creditors in Dublin and Cork are pressing him very 
 hard, and he has no means left to meet their demands.” 
 
 God help him, poor fellow, God help him ; if he 
 didn’t happen to be a gentleman, it hadn’t been half so 
 bad.” 
 
 Have you called to see him yet, as you promised ? 
 
 No, I thought better of it.” 
 
 How so ? ” 
 
 My visit might be disagreeable, perhaps.” 
 
 Disagreeable ? ” 
 
 Yes — he might feel embarrassed.” 
 
 ^^^What ! ashamed of his poverty ? ” 
 
 No ; but if he happened to find out that I was the 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 171 
 
 purchaser of Mary^s pictures, what should I do ? Roger 
 would never sell me a picture again. 
 
 He knows nothing about it,^^ said Kate. Roger 
 would die sooner than tell him ; even Mary herself don^t 
 know who buys her pictures. She thinks Roger sells 
 them in Derry to a picture dealer. All she don’t under- 
 stand about the matter is the high price she gets for 
 them.” 
 
 '' Nonsense ! ” ejaculated Uncle Jerry ; she receives 
 *the value of them, and not one stiver more or less. I’m 
 not such a fool as to throw my hard-earned money away 
 for nothing.” 
 
 ^'Fool!” repeated Kate, looking at Uncle Jerry till 
 the tears came to her eyes ; ''I wish to God we had 
 more fools like you, then.” 
 
 There it’s again,” said Uncle Jerry, turning away 
 pettishly from his fair companion, for nothing irritated 
 him more than to charge him with the crime of benevo- 
 lence ; there it’s again ; always harping on the same 
 string. I’ll stay at home, in future,” he continued, for 
 I shan’t be plagued in this way any longer. I’ll not let 
 a beggar — I’ll not let a man with a torn coat, nor a 
 woman with a child in her arms — within a league of my 
 house ; as I live I shan’t.” 
 
 '' Don’t grow angry with me. Uncle Jerry,” pleaded 
 Kate, taking his hand. 
 
 I shall grow angry ; I can’t help it ; a saint couldn’t 
 stand it. I’ll turn off Mrs. Motherly too, for she’s the 
 cause of all this. I can’t fling a copper to a beggar, but 
 she reports it a pound. Upon my word it’s a pretty 
 thing to be taken for a simpleton at the age of sixty 
 years ; humph ! a mighty pretty thing indeed.” 
 
 only hinted at your generosity — I mean your 
 goodness — in — a — in — why, in giving fair prices for 
 Mary’s pictures, that’s all.” 
 
 ‘'Fair prices — ” 
 
 "Yes ; and I thought you wouldn’t be angry with 
 me for saying 
 
 " Of course I wouldn’t ; but you said nothing of the 
 
172 
 
 MARY LEE, OR 
 
 kind — not a syllable, replied Uncle Jerry, softening 
 down a little, notwithstanding. 
 
 Because you wouldnH wait to hear me,^^ said Kate ; 
 
 I certainly think it’s very good and kind in you to buy 
 these pictures from the poor girl when you don’t want 
 them yourself. I say that, Mr. Guirkie, and I shall 
 always say so.” 
 
 But I do want them — I want all she can paint for a 
 twelvemonth to come ; and I wouldn’t give one of them 
 for twice the price they cost me. Do you hear that, » 
 now, Miss Petersham ? Not for twice the price.” 
 
 ‘'0, well,” said Kate, humoring the whim, ''that 
 accounts for it, then.” 
 
 " Certainly. You thought all the time, I suppose, I 
 bought these pictures as an act of charity. He, he ! ” he 
 chuckled, endeavoring all the while to belie his own 
 heart; " when I buy, Kate, I have an eye to business.” 
 
 Kate raised up hers in appeal against the sacrilege, 
 but dared not venture a word. 
 
 " And that’s the real reason, Kate, I don’t visit at the 
 lighthouse,” said Uncle Jerry, holding his head down, 
 for his conscience smote him for bearing false witness 
 against himself; " that’s the reason, precisely.” 
 
 "0, very well,” said Kate ; " I’m satisfied if you are.” 
 
 "I must acknowledge it’s a selfish motive,” continued 
 Uncle Jerry ; " but I have been a man of the world, and 
 doubtless my feelings are hardened by long intercourse 
 with it.” 
 
 " Hardened ! And so you won’t visit at the light- 
 house, lest Roger should never come with his pictures 
 again ? ” 
 
 " Precisely. If the old man saw me once there, he 
 should never come knocking at my door again. He’s a 
 wonderful man, that Roger, and I think I should miss 
 him very much.” 
 
 "He’s a faithful creature,” replied Kate; " like the 
 ivy, he clings on to the last ; when the old house falls 
 into ruins, he falls with it.” 
 
 " He is very obliging to me, at all events,” said Uncle 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 173 
 
 Jerry, ''to make me the first offer. But keep the secret 
 to yourself, Kate,^^ (and he whispered the words in her 
 ear,) " don^t breathe it to a soul for your life.^^ 
 
 "Never fear ; Fll not discover.^^ 
 
 " And now, can you tell me, has Mary Lee any friends 
 or relatives in or about Rathmullen ? 
 
 " No, not that I know of.^^ 
 
 " You^re not certain ? 
 
 " Well, as certain as I can be, without actually hear- 
 ing her say so.^^ 
 
 " Then I must have seen her ghost, 
 
 " Her ghost, forsooth ! where ? 
 
 In Rathmullen graveyard.’^ 
 
 " 0, some one like her you saw. She has no rela- 
 tives interred there. The Lees, you know, are absolute 
 strangers in this part of the country. 
 
 "So I understood ; and yet, upon my word, I saw 
 her there, at two different times, as plainly as I see you 
 now. On both occasions it was late in the evening, and 
 she passed within a few yards of me, apparently on her 
 way to the shore. 
 
 "You must have been mistaken. Mary never goes 
 there ; I should hear of it, if she did. Sometimes, in 
 calm evenings, she and Lanty Hanlon take a run up the 
 lough together in the jolly-boat, but I never heard of her 
 visiting the graveyard. 
 
 During this little conversation between Uncle Jerry 
 and Kate, Dr. Henshaw and Mrs. Willoughby were busily 
 engaged talking on various subjects, and particularly 
 those relating to Scotch and English society. Being of 
 an old aristocratic family herself, the good lady was very 
 fond of speaking of her ancestors, dating them back as 
 far as the Conquest, and of the various noble houses all 
 over England and Scotland, with which she had become 
 connected during a long succession of years. Dr. Hen- 
 shaw, on the other hand, coming as he did from an old 
 Puritan stock, and still proud of his grim old warrior 
 fathers, was not inclined to set much value on his vener- 
 able companion's reminiscences of the past, and indeed 
 15* 
 
174 
 
 MAKY LEE, OR 
 
 went so far in his rough, brusque manner of speaking of 
 the English nobility, as to shock the old lady^s prepos- 
 sessions very mnch, and finally to consign his own, as 
 well as her ancestors, to perdition, as enemies of the 
 Catholic church. Fortunately, however, a circumstance 
 of rather a ludicrous character occurred just then to 
 prevent an open rupture. 
 
 Lanty Hanlon, as the reader may remember, was ap- 
 pointed to take charge of the negro in the boat house, 
 and keep him as comfortable as possible under hay and 
 blankets, till a carriage could be sent next morning to 
 convey him to Greenmount, if it should so happen that 
 no accommodation could be had for him at Castle Greg- 
 ory. Lanty waited patiently till the half hour was up, 
 expecting by that time to see some of the castle servants 
 coming down to relieve him. But when the half hour 
 passed, and no one came, he began to feel somewhat 
 uneasy at the prospect of being obliged to sit up all 
 night with so unsociable a companion. The next half 
 hour passed away also, and no one came. Lanty went 
 to the door to listen — but all in vain — not a sound 
 could he hear, but the occasional screech of the peacock 
 perched on the old sun dial. 
 
 Begorra,^^ he muttered to himself, at last, scratching 
 his head and returning to his weary post, '' begorra, iFs 
 a mighty agreeable okkipation, sittin here all alone, 
 nurse-tendin a blackamoor, an not a sowl within call of 
 me. I^d like to know what Mary Kelly will say when 
 I^m not there to take her up to Ned Callahan’s christenin. 
 I’m sayin, Mr. Blackamoor,” he continued, turning to the 
 negro, who now lay motionless on the flat of his hack, 
 I’m sayin, ye’d do me a mighty great favor if ye’d let 
 me off till daybreak. I’ve some weighty business on my 
 hands.” 
 
 Berry sick, massa,” responded the negro. 
 
 0, I don’t dispute that in the laste. But there’s no 
 fear of you dyin till mornin, any how.” 
 
 Berry bad, massa ; berry sick ; no tink me live.” 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 175 
 
 0; musha, bad luck to the fear of ye, my augenach ; 
 3 ^er more frightened than hurt/^ 
 
 Me no feel toes — none at all/’ 
 
 ''0, botheration to yer toes — I’m not goin to stay 
 here all night nursin them, without as much as a drop i’ 
 drink, or even a draw of the pipe to warm me. So start, 
 my darlin ; I’ll carry ye to the castle.” 
 
 You kill me, massa.” 
 
 “ Dang the fear of ye — come, now, get up, my fine 
 fellow — ye’ll ride on a Christian’s back, any way, and 
 that’s an honor ye little expected.” 
 
 The poor negro begged hard to be left where he was 
 for the night, but Lanty was inexorable ; the dance at 
 Ned Callahan’s christening, with Mary Kelly for a part- 
 ner, was too strong a temptation. After various twist- 
 ings and turnings, he succeeded at length in seating the 
 invalid on the top of an empty barrel, and then backing 
 in, wound the creature’s arms round his neck, and tied 
 them there with his handkerchief, lest he might happen 
 to grow faint, and fall on the road. In this fashion 
 Lanty started off* with his burden, intending to leave him 
 in one of the out-houses till morning. When he reached 
 the castle, however, he found them all locked. The only 
 door, in fact, he saw open after hawking his load ail over 
 the place, was the great hall door of the castle itself. 
 So, afler some hesitation, he took courage, and in he 
 went. Looking round the spacious hall, and seeing no 
 one coming, he determined to deposit the negro on a 
 door mat, and then, having rung the bell, disappear as 
 fast as possible. Unfortunately, however, he selected 
 the wrong place, and worse still, in turning round to 
 drop the negro behind him, he stumbled backwards, burst 
 open the parlor door, where the company we have just 
 left were quietly seated, and rolled into the middle of 
 the room, with the negro’s arms clasped around his neck 
 as tight as a vice. 
 
 The uproar was awful. Mrs. Willoughby screamed ; 
 Mr. Guirkie shouted thieves and murder ; Dr. Ilenshaw 
 upset the table and lights, in his effort to catch his aris- 
 
176 
 
 MARY LEE, OB 
 
 tocratic antagonist, as she fell fainting from her chair. 
 Kate ran to one door, and the priest groped his way to 
 another, calling on the servants. Within the room all 
 was darkness and confusion. Uncle Jerry, in his 
 attempts to escape, capsized chairs, tables, tumblers, 
 decanters, dumb waiters, and every thing else that came 
 in • his way. Mrs. Willoughby, in a fit of hysterics, 
 wriggled furiously in the arms of the tall reviewer, 
 whilst Lanty kicked and swore lustily at the ** black- 
 guard blackamoor to let him go. 
 
 At length the servants came running in with lights, 
 one after another, all out of breath, and all inquiring 
 what had happened. The shouts and screams of the 
 party had attracted to the spot every domestic in the 
 house, from the boot boy to the steward. But their stay 
 was short, for the instant their eyes fell on the negroes 
 black face, they mistook him for a certain gentleman of 
 the same color, and fled away, treading on each other^s 
 heels, and screeching like very demons, till the din grew 
 ten times greater than before. 
 
 What^s all this clamor about ? ” demanded the priest, 
 motioning back the affrighted servants. Brave fellows 
 you are, to be scared in this way by the black face of 
 a poor African. But whereas Lanty Hanlon ? he in- 
 quired, suddenly recollecting himself; '‘eh! whereas 
 Lanty Hanlon ? away, and bring the villain here forth- 
 with ; he’s the cause of all this trouble. Bring him 
 here instantly.” 
 
 “ Lanty Hanlon, where are you ? ” shouted one. 
 
 “ Lanty Hanlon, the priest wants you 1 ” cried another. 
 
 But no answer came. Lanty Hanlon was gone. 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 177 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 Dr. Henshaw^s Pride is deeply wounded. — To he taken for 
 a Burglar, and treated as a Burglar, is more than he felt 
 prepared to put up with. — Captain Petersham apolo- 
 gizes for his Blunder, hut to no Purpose. 
 
 Captain Petersham, booted and spurred, and accompa- 
 nied by an officer in undress constabulary uniform, en- 
 tered the parlor the moment the servants rushed in with 
 the lights, and there beheld, to his utter astonishment, 
 the insensible form of his venerable aunt, in the arms of 
 a tall, red-bearded stranger. The groans of the unfortu- 
 nate African on the floor, and the cries of Uncle Jerry, 
 •mingling with the screams and confusion of the affrighted 
 servants, left him no room to doubt the man was a burglar ; 
 and fired with indignation at the outrage thus oflered his 
 relative, he snatched a pistol from the mantel-piece, and 
 bounding over chairs, tables, broken glasses, and every 
 thing else that lay in his way, presented the weapon at 
 his head. 
 
 Villain, desist,^^ he cried, or I blow your brains 
 out.^^ 
 
 Hold on, sir,^^ ejaculated Henshaw ; '^remove your 
 weapon.’^ 
 
 Lay down the lady on the sofa, sirrah — lay her 
 down instantly ! 
 
 Are you mad, sir ? — I have no — no — 
 
 Down with her, or by — 
 
 The doctor, feeling the cold muzzle of the pistol touch 
 his forehead, dropped his burden as suddenly as if she 
 had been a bar of hot iron, and then drawing himself up, 
 and pursing out his lips, demanded to know who dared 
 assault him thus. 
 
 ''Silence, villain/^ again thundered the captain, "si- 
 lence.'^ 
 
 " Sir, I^m no villain, and I demand — 
 
178 
 
 MARY LEE, OR 
 
 Another word ! and the excited captain again 
 raised his weapon. 
 
 But the police oflBcer, fearing his fiery temper might 
 drive him to extremities, arrested his arm, and begged 
 him to ^ see to the lady, while he took charge of the 
 prisoner. 
 
 Hold him fast, then,^^ he cried. Let him escape at 
 your peril. Ho ! there,^^ he continued, shouting to the 
 servants — ^^ho! there, rascals; let two or three of you 
 remove Mrs. Willoughby to her room, and the others 
 start off and scour the country for the rest of the gang ; 
 five pounds for the first capture ; come now, my lads, 
 lose no time ; tumble out and be active. 
 
 As the excited captain rushed from the parlor, after 
 issuing his orders, he came full tilt against Uncle Jerry, 
 and laid him sprawling on his back. 
 
 Thank you,^^ said the latter; I^m exceedingly- 
 obliged, upon my word. Well, I vow and declare, he 
 added, as he kicked up his little gaitered legs, and wrig- 
 gled like a capsized crab — I vow and declare there^s 
 not such another place as Castle Gregory in the whole 
 world. 
 
 ' ' Kate Petersham ! Kate Petersham ! Hilloa, Kate, 
 where are you ? cried the captain, leaving Mr. Guirkie 
 to his own resources. 
 
 Here,^^ said a voice behind him. 
 
 The captain turned, and to his surprise beheld his 
 sister in an arm chair, her head thrown back, her hair all 
 down over her shoulders, and her whole frame convulsed 
 with laughter. 
 
 '' What in the name of all the Furies does this mean ? 
 he demanded, beginning to suspect some mistake. 
 
 But Kate, to save her life, could not articulate a syllable ; 
 all she could do was to point to Uncle Jerry, on the floor. 
 
 Who is he ? said the captain ; and turning to the 
 prostrate man, he seized him by his arm, and raised him 
 on his feet. 
 
 '' Why, how now ? is it possible ? — good Heavens ! — 
 how came you here, Mr. Guirkie ? 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 179 
 
 That^s not the l^hing, captain ; no, sir, that^s not the 
 thing ; the question is, how Pm to get away, for the 
 deviFs in the house/^ 
 
 '' Where is Dr. Henshaw ? inquired the priest, stop- 
 ping a servant running across the hall. 
 
 '' Who the deuce is Dr. Henshaw ? What — and Father 
 John here too? Can you explain this uproar. Father 
 Brennan ? demanded the captain. 
 
 '' Lanty Hanlon^s the cause of the whole of it — at 
 least I suspect as much — but I must leave you with Mr. 
 Guirkie — he can enlighten you on the subject, whilst I 
 go in quest of the doctor. 
 
 '' Lanty Hanlon ! he’s the very devil, that fellow. Why, 
 here’s an oiOficer of police in the house this moment, in 
 search of him.” 
 
 “ For what ? ” 
 
 For an aggravated assault on a foreigner of the name 
 of Weeks.” 
 
 The Yankee ? ” 
 
 Very likely.” 
 
 Well, upon my credit,” said Uncle Jerry, I’m quite 
 sure he deserved all he got, for he’s a very presumptuous 
 fellow. What d’ye think, captain ? He had the impu- 
 dence to tell me that a horn on a hare’s ear for a June fly 
 was all a humbug. Just imagine a stranger tell me that, 
 after fishing over five years in these waters.” 
 
 Can no one say where Dr. Henshaw is ? ” inquired 
 the priest, accosting Mr. Guirkie and the captain. 
 
 Dr. Henshaw again ! Who the mischief is Dr. Hen- 
 shaw ? ” 
 
 '' A friend of mine I brought with me to see' Castle 
 Gregory.” 
 
 He’s an awful man,” said Uncle Jerry. 
 
 Awful man ? ” 
 
 Yes, he wields theology like a sledge hammer, and 
 sends all Protestants to misery everlasting.” 
 
 Hold,” exclaimed the captain ; I fear I’ve made a 
 confounded blunder. Good Heavens ! what have I done I 
 
180 
 
 MARY LEE, OR 
 
 That must be the very man I left j»st now in the break- 
 fast parlor, in custody of the officer/^ 
 
 Ha, ha ! he, he ! chuckled Uncle Jerry again ; 
 
 thaUs glorious ! 
 
 Why, I took him for a robber in the act of carrying 
 off my aunt.’^ 
 
 Excellent ! he, he ! excellent ! Capital idea, such a 
 man as Dr. Henshaw carry away your aunt. Ha, ha ! 
 
 Are you ready ? cried Kate, marching up to the 
 captain with a cutting whip in her hand, and the strap of 
 her riding cap under her chin. 
 
 Don^t provoke me, Kate. Go away now.^^ 
 
 What, sir, turned coward ? and your whole retinue 
 in the field. 
 
 '' Begone, I say.^^ 
 
 And your venerable relative wrested from the arms 
 of one of the gang ! 
 
 The captain retreated into the parlor, but Kate followed 
 him. 
 
 "'Shall I have the five pounds if I succeed? — five 
 pounds, you know, for the first capture. 
 
 "Begone this minute, ejaculated the mortified cap- 
 tain, turning short and pursuing her ; but the mirth- 
 loving, provoking girl was too swift for him, and fled from 
 the room laughing till the spacious hall rang again. 
 
 But to return to the prisoner in the breakfast parlor. 
 
 The wrath of the distinguished reviewer, on finding 
 himself shut up in custody of a police officer, knew no 
 bounds. " Open that door, sir,’^ he exclaimed, violently, 
 pointing at it with his finger — "open that door een- 
 stantly, and give me free egress from this infernal 
 house. 
 
 " Keep quiet, my good man,^^ coolly replied the officer 
 — " keep quiet. 
 
 " Stand from the door,^^ vociferated Henshaw, raising 
 his clinched fist, " or ril fell you to the earth. 
 
 " If you don^t keep your temper, Ull handcuff you,^^ 
 replied the officer, with as much coolness as before. 
 
 " Handcuff me ! Sirrah, cried Henshaw, running his 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 181 
 
 thumbs into his waistcoat, and swelling up till he 
 looked like a Jupiter Tonans. '^Handcuft* me — caitiff, 
 cuif ! 
 
 '' I have shackled as strong men in my time.^^ 
 
 You preesumptuous pygmy, growled the doctor; 
 and he shot at his keeper a look of withering scorn like 
 Glenalvon when he said to the young Douglas, 
 
 Knowest thou not Glenalvon, born to command 
 Ten thousand slaves like thee ? ” 
 
 '' Pray, fellow, what do you take me for ? at length 
 he added, a little cooled down under the officer’s imper- 
 turbability of look and tone. 
 
 '' A robber — caught in the very act of abducting one 
 of the ladies of the house.” 
 
 ''A robber! Look at me again, sir! Am I like a 
 robber ? ” 
 
 '' Can’t say as to that. I’ve seen robbers as good- 
 looking in my time.” 
 
 '' You’re an eensolent scoundrel ; but go on, play oot 
 the play. This is my first Irish lesson, I presume.” 
 
 And you’ll find it a sharp one, too, I suspect, before 
 it’s over.” 
 
 Humph ! you’re an Irishman, I take it.” 
 
 I am — what of that ? ” 
 
 Why, I suspected as much, by your insufferable 
 eensolence.” 
 
 See here, my good man ; that’s a reflection on my 
 country,” said the officer, '' and I don’t like it. Say 
 what you please of myself, as long as you’re in my cus- 
 tody — but if you value your health, let my country 
 alone ; for my knuckles itch when I hear it lightly spoken 
 of, especially by a foreigner.” 
 
 At this moment a knock was heard at the door, and 
 presently Captain Petersham entered. 
 
 I hasten,” said the portly captain, with a smile on 
 his honest, jolly face — ''I hasten, Dr. Henshaw, to offer 
 you an apology for this — ” 
 
 Sir, I shall accept no apology,” growled the doc- 
 16 
 
182 
 
 MARY LEE, OR 
 
 tor. ''All I require is permeession to quit this house — 
 instantly. 
 
 "But, my dear sir, will you — 
 
 "No, sir; youVe offered me an unpardonable insult.^^ 
 
 " Will you not listen to an explanation ? 
 
 " No, sir — 1^11 listen to no explanation.'^ 
 
 " Pshaugh 1 nonsense, my dear friend — don't take it 
 so ill. Why, I've been making and apologizing for 
 blunders all my lifetime. Father John here will tell you 
 the little boys on the streets call me nothing but blunder- 
 ing Tom Petersham." 
 
 " That's a positive fact, and good reason for it, too," 
 muttered Uncle Jerry, ambling about the room, and bob- 
 bing his skirts up and down as usual. 
 
 " Come, come, doctor," persisted the captain, again 
 offering his hand, " let us forget this foolish mistake, and 
 drink success to Bonnie Scotland over a good stout bottle 
 of old Port — supper awaits us in the next room." 
 
 "You must excuse me, sir; I can't partake of your 
 hospeetality," said the doctor gruffly, turning away and 
 moving to and fro like a caged lion. 
 
 "Don't you remember Eolus ? " said Uncle Jerry, 
 whispering in the priest's ear — Vadit per claustram 
 magno cum murmure rauco. He, he ! he's the very man." 
 
 " Is there no way to conciliate him ? " inquired the 
 captain, turning to the priest. 
 
 " None that I know of." 
 
 " Let us start Kate at him," said the captain; "if the 
 man has a soft spot in his heart, she'll find it." 
 
 And Kate did beg and entreat him to stay for the 
 night, and begged and begged again, but all to no pur- 
 pose — the doctor was indexible. Nay, he went even so 
 far at last as to rebuke her harshly for her familiarity ; 
 and Kate, the poor kind-hearted girl, unaccustomed to 
 such language, blushed like a child under the reproof, and 
 stole away, mortified, from the room. 
 
 " Now, then, in the name of all the gods in Olympus," 
 exclaimed the captain, who had been watching Kate, and 
 witnessed her repulse, " that makes an end of it. An 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 183 
 
 apology is as much as one gentleman can require of anoth- 
 er, and IVe already satisfied my conscience on that point. 
 Ho, there ! who waits — Thomas ? 
 
 ''Here, sir/^ 
 
 " Let the coachman drive up instantly, and take this 
 gentleman home. Confound such stubborn — sulky — 
 mawworms,^^ he added, turning again to the priest. 
 " Pm sorry, sir, for this ridiculous blunder on 3^our ac- 
 count ; but hang me if I can play the supplicant any 
 longer.^^ 
 
 " Of course not.^^ 
 
 " Should he happen to be a gentleman, and desire sat- 
 isfaction of another kind, I shall be most happy to ac- 
 commodate him. He can have Johnson of Birchfield, 
 you know, in a moment’s warning.” 
 
 " No, no, captain,” replied the priest, smiling ; " he 
 must dispense with such favors for the present. For my- 
 self, I exceedingly regret having brought him with me to 
 Castle Gregory. But there was no help for it. The 
 night was dark, and Mr. Guirkie absolutely refused to 
 part with the negro till he had seen you, and placed 
 him under your special protection. I’m sorry also I 
 must accompany the doctor ; for I had promised myself 
 a long chat with Kate on a certain interesting subject 
 which — ” 
 
 "Which is neither more nor less than the comparative 
 merits of the Anglican and Catholic churches. I sus- 
 pected all along, my dear fellow, what you and Kate 
 were about ; but it’s no concern of mine — let her please 
 herself. If she wishes to adopt a new form of religion, 
 I’m satisfied — only let it be a decent one ; for by all the 
 saints in the calendar, if she dared look even sideways 
 at any of those tinkering religions they manufacture now- 
 adays, I’d hang her up for the crows to pick.” 
 
 " Ha, ha ! you don’t like these new-fangled systems, I 
 perceive.” 
 
 " Like them ! why, they’re the most damnable nui- 
 sances in the country. One of those canting fellows who 
 peddle them round here, called on me last week, and 
 
184 
 
 MARY LEE, OR 
 
 after disgusting me with his hypocrital twaddle, had the 
 impudence to invite me to what he called a prayer meet- 
 ing. Ha, ha ! By George, I had a good mind to fling 
 the fellow, neck and heels, out of the window. No, sir; 
 1 was bred a Protestant myself, and intend to live and 
 die one ; but Kate is old enough now to know what 
 she’s about, and may, for aught it concerns me, turn 
 Catholic, if her taste lie that way — but let her keep 
 clear of these pettifoggers; that’s all the stipulation I 
 make.” 
 
 Well, but suppose,” observed the priest, smiling — 
 suppose her taste led her to adopt the Methodist — ” 
 
 '' 0, hang the Methodist. I’d rather see her peddle 
 eggs with a basket on her arm.” 
 
 '' You don’t apprehend much danger of that, I sup- 
 pose ? Kate’s not exactly of that turn of mind.” 
 
 No ; but you can’t tell, sir, what may happen — you 
 can’t tell. Those Hardwrinkles are here night and day 
 since she stopped going to church on Sundays.” 
 
 Humph, and these visits are intended to counteract 
 the influence of Mary Lee, I suspect.” 
 
 Poor Mary ! Is she not a most fascinating crea- 
 ture?” said the captain, earnestly. ''I tell you what, 
 sir, I believe in my soul I’m in love with that girl.” 
 
 The priest looked at the burly captain and smiled. 
 
 Well, hang me if I know what to make of it ; but I 
 feel sometimes as if I could propose for her myself. Ha, 
 ha ! what think you of that, sir, from a bachelor of forty- 
 five ? ” and the captain laughed till his fat sides shook 
 again at the idea of such a match. 
 
 Yon would have but little chance against Randall 
 Barry, I fear,” replied the priest. 
 
 The young outlaw ? ” 
 
 Yes ; and the foolish boy is now somewhere in the 
 neighborhood, I understand.” 
 
 '' Saw him myself, and a devilish fine-looking fellow 
 he is — saw him at the lighthouse yesterday.” 
 
 Is it possible ! and 3 "ou didn’t arrest him as in duty 
 bound ? You’re a very pretty magistrate, indeed. Why, 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 185 
 
 captain, I must report you to the government as an abet- 
 tor of treason/^ 
 
 Nonsense — Pm not a policeman, to carry handcuffs 
 in my pocket/^ 
 
 But 3^ou might have ordered his arrest/^ 
 
 Humph ! when I order the arrest of a fine young 
 fellow like that, whose only crime is to love his country, 
 I shall be no longer Tom Petersham. Still, if he happen 
 to be brought before me, you know, as a justice of the 
 peace, and fully identified, I must commit him.^’ 
 
 Of course you must. The boy is acting very rashly 
 in coming here at all, after all the warnings he has 
 had.^^ 
 
 He must be a bold fellow, knowing there’s a reward 
 of three hundred pounds offered for his capture.” 
 
 I wish to mercy he could be induced to quit the 
 country for a time, for if he happen to be taken, Mary 
 will break her heart.” 
 
 '' Well, he shall be arrested, you may depend on it, 
 sooner or later. Three hundred pounds, these hard times, 
 is a strong temptation. Why, this very officer, in the 
 house now, chased him two days ago from Buncrana to 
 Lambert’s Point.” 
 
 '' Carriage at the door,” cried a servant. 
 
 And what of supper ? ” 
 
 On the table, sir.” 
 
 ''Come then, my dear friend,” said the captain, taking 
 the priest familiarly by the arm ; " let us pick a bone to- 
 gether before you leave. Kate, go ask Dr. Henshaw to 
 join us. Where’s Mr. Guirkie ? — Mr. Guirkie, come forth 
 — come forth, thou man of indescribable sensibilities.” 
 
 But Mr. Guirkie had left the parlor a few minutes be- 
 fore, and was now making arrangements with the stew- 
 ard for the safe conveyance of the African to Greenmount 
 next morning. He soon made his appearance, however, 
 and joined the captain and the priest in a glass of wine. 
 It was all the refreshment they ventured to accept, as 
 Henshaw still doggedly rejected every attempt at con- 
 ciliation. 
 
 16 * 
 
186 
 
 MARY LEE, OR 
 
 Well, good by, doctor,^^ said the good-natured cap- 
 tain, accompanying the party to the steps of the hall 
 door ; I^m sorry you leave us in anger — but I know 
 you^ll think better of it to-morrow. Good hy, sir.^^ 
 
 The distinguished reviewer growled something in reply. 
 Kate,^^ said the priest, '' don^t neglect to cultivate 
 the acquaintance of Mary Lee, nor forget to read that 
 book I lent you on the beauties of the Catholic religion.^^ 
 Never fear,^^ replied Kate ; and then having promised 
 Uncle Jerry to see particular care taken of his poor Afri- 
 can, she waved her hand in adieu, and the carriage drove 
 off at a gallop down the avenue. 
 
 
 
 
THE YANKEE IN IKELAND. 
 
 18T 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 Kate and Else at the Bedside of the Cabin Boy. — Else be- 
 gins to suspect the little Fellow will yet unravel a Mys- 
 tery. — A Visit from Kate Peter sham j who receives a 
 Letter from Lanty Hanlon, announcing Randall Barrfs 
 Arrest. 
 
 A SEVERE attack of fever, resulting from the hardships 
 he endured in the life boat, had now confined the little 
 cabin boy to his room at the lighthouse for several days, 
 during which Mary Lee was his constant attendant, hard- 
 ly ever leaving him, day or night. 
 
 Dr. Camberwell had called to see the patient sev- 
 eral times, and as often found Mary patiently watching 
 by his bedside, with the fidelity and affection of a sister. 
 Strongly did he remonstrate with her (as did her uncle 
 also) on the imprudence of shutting herself up so con- 
 stantly in the sick room, especially when Else Curley and 
 Roger O^Shaughnessy were there to attend him. But 
 all in vain. Nothing could prevail on her to quit her 
 post. She only smiled, and assured them she appre- 
 hended no danger whatever. 
 
 The room in which the boy lay was a small apartment 
 on the north side of the lodge, directly over the Devil’s 
 Gulch, and looking out on the far-famed Swilly Rock, 
 which lay in the very mouth of the lough, about half a 
 mile distant, showing its long black back now and then, 
 as the swells of the sea broke over and seethed down its 
 sides. Beyond it, in the distance, appeared the rugged 
 outline of Malin Head, casting its deep shadow far out into 
 the sea, and frowning a sulky defiance at each passing ship 
 as she rounded the dangerous bluff. It was to avoid that 
 headland the ill-fated Saldana’^ ran for a harbor, and 
 struck on Swilly Rock. On that rock she lost her helm 
 and masts, and then, broken up by the fury of the ocean, 
 drifted in fragments to the shore. 
 
188 
 
 MARY LEE, OR 
 
 / 
 
 Every soul on board perished, that night, but one little 
 infant ; and that infant, now a lovely girl of eighteen, 
 her eyes turned to the fatal spot, was praying for the 
 little wrecked cabin boy, lying beside her. She was 
 kneeling before a crucifix, with a rosary in her hand, and 
 old Drake, resting his nose on his shaggy paws, was 
 peering up in her face. 
 
 Suddenly she turned, and looked towards the bed. 
 
 ''Sambo — Sambo, muttered the boy; "where are 
 you, Sambo V’ 
 
 Mary rose, and advancing to the bedside, laid her hand 
 gently on the forehead of the little sufferer — it was burn- 
 ing hot. 
 
 " Sambo, dear Sambo, he again repeated, "let us re- 
 turn home. Mother calls me.^^ 
 
 " It^s the crisis,^^ murmured Mary ; " six hours more will 
 terminate the contest between life and death. 0 Mother 
 of God, Mother of our Eedeemer,^^ she added, " save 
 this wandering boy.^^ And slowly sinking on her knees 
 again, she prayed and wept over him, till the tears rolled 
 down her cheeks, and dropped unheeded on the bed. 
 
 " What^s that you^re doing. Sambo ? muttered the 
 ^oy ; "you scald me with drops of lead.^^ 
 
 "Hush, hush,^^ whispered Mary in his ear. "Keep 
 quiet ; I^m with you.^^ 
 
 " Take me home. Sambo, take me home.’^ 
 
 " Where 
 
 " Where ! to Old Yirginny. There it is, right before 
 you ; don^t you see the old Potomac ? Massa shan^t blame 
 you a mite — it was all my fault, and ITl tell him so. 
 Won^t you take me back. Sambo? 
 
 "Yes, to-morrow — to-morrow; but keep still now, or 
 I must leave you.^^ 
 
 The threat of desertion seemed to silence the little fel- 
 low completely. Mary then applied a napkin steeped 
 in vinegar and water to his burning temples, and after 
 smoothing his pillow, was returning to her seat near the 
 window, when all of a sudden she found herself clasped 
 in the arms of Kate Petersham. 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 189 
 
 Kate ! she exclaimed ; it possible ? 
 
 Yes — your own Kate — and I love you now a thou- 
 sand times better than ever/^ 
 
 You won^t scold me, will you ? 
 
 Scold you ! for what ? 
 
 Kot going to see you, according to promise. 
 
 And abandon your little charge there. No, no, 
 Mary, I know your heart too well for that. But I must 
 scold you for something else, Mary. I must scold you 
 for staying here so constantly in the sick room.^’ 
 
 There’s no danger in the world, Kate.” 
 
 Danger ! Why, Dr. Camberwell says it’s typhus 
 fever, and of the most malignant kind, too.” 
 
 Well, but, dear Kate, you need not feel the least 
 concern about that, for I’m not afraid of it ; and you 
 know where there’s no fear there’s no danger.” 
 
 I don’t know any such thing. On the contrary, I’m 
 sure you’re running a great risk.” 
 
 ‘'Not the slightest. The Mother of God will pro- 
 tect me.” 
 
 " Ah, you can’t be certain of that.” 
 
 " Quite certain. She never forsook me yet.” 
 
 " But if you’ve acted imprudently and rashly, why 
 should she protect j^ou ? ” 
 
 " Listen to me, Kate, and when I tell you how all this 
 happened, you’ll say there’s something mysterious in 
 it. It was just eighteen years, to the hour, since the 
 wreck of the Saldana, the night this poor boy was cast 
 ashore on Ballyhernan Strand. The circumstance struck 
 me as something strange when I heard it mentioned by 
 the warren-keeper in the cabin, and pondering over it as 
 I wet the lips of the little mariner with a spoonful of 
 wine and water, the idea occurred to me that the Blessed 
 Virgin had committed him to my special care. You may 
 smile, Kate, but the providence of God has its own ways 
 and means of accomplishing its ends. ' How very like my 
 own fate is this littj^ wanderer’s ! ’ said I ; ' perhaps he, 
 too, has neither father nor mother left to watch over 
 him.’ Just as I muttered these words to myself, he 
 
190 
 
 MARY LEE, OR 
 
 raised his eyes to mine, and seemed to make such an 
 appeal to my heart that I couldn’t, for the life of me, 
 say a syllable in reply. So I only nodded a promise. 
 He understood it though, perfectly, and smiled his 
 thanks as I gave it.” 
 
 And you feel bound by that promise,” said Kate, 
 ^'though not a word was exchanged between you.” 
 
 ''0, indeed, as for that, Kate, I believe I had made 
 the promise to the Blessed Virgin before he looked at me 
 at all. For why should he have been cast ashore that 
 night, of all the nights in the year, and consigned to my 
 care too, by the doctor, if there hadn’t been something 
 mysterious in it ? ” 
 
 And now, you’re prepared to risk your life to save 
 his ? ” 
 
 '' No, no,” replied Mary, throwing her arm round her 
 companion’s neck, and leaning her head gently on her 
 bosom — no, no, dear Kate, there’s no risk for me, 
 since the Queen of Virgins has promised to save me.” 
 
 '' But may not this be superstition ? ” 
 
 '' Superstition ! 0 Kate, Kate, if you only felt for 
 
 one short hour the blessed hopes which the Mother of 
 God inspires in the hearts of her sufiering children, you 
 would speak less coldly of our beautiful religion. In- 
 deed, Kate, only for the consolations I have drawn for 
 the last six years from that pure fountain of pity and 
 love, I should long since have sunk under the weight of 
 my sorrows.” 
 
 Ah,” responded Kate, compassionately; ''you’ve 
 had sorrows enough, poor child.” 
 
 " And yet, strange as it may seem, it’s the cheerful- 
 ness with which he bears his misfortunes that wounds me 
 the most.” 
 
 " His misfortunes ! Whom do you mean ? ” 
 
 " My uncle.” 
 
 " 0, I thought you were speaking of your own 
 griefs.” • 
 
 No ; I never had any thing to grieve for but him — 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 191 
 
 he is all the world, though, to me ; for, indeed, I think, 
 Kate, he loves me more than his life/^ 
 
 Don^t wonder much at that, Maiy/^ 
 
 To see him falling, step by step, from the proud po- 
 sition he once occupied among the best and noblest of 
 the land ; to see his friends — alas ! they were sorry 
 friends — deserting him day after day ; to see his cred- 
 itors, who were wont to come to him bowing in lowly 
 reverence, now insolently rebuking him for his reckless 
 extravagance ; to see his stables empty, his hounds all 
 dead and gone, his servants forsaking him one by one ; 
 and to see himself smiling and happy-looking as a bride- 
 groom in the midst of all that desolation, — 0, Kate, it 
 was that which almost broke my heart/^ 
 
 '' On the contrary, Mary, I think it should have con- 
 soled you to see him bear his misfortunes so bravely. 
 
 Ah, yes ; but it^s all deception — an outward show. 
 He only affects to be happy on my account/^ 
 
 ''You may be mistaken, Mary; it^s his natural dis- 
 position, perhaps/^ 
 
 " 0, no,^^ replied the gentle girl ; "I can tell his very 
 thoughts, though he fancies them hidden from all the 
 world. Often have I watched his countenance as he 
 read over those insulting letters of his creditors, and 
 seen how he struggled to hide his indignation under a 
 smile. And now, Kate, they have found us out at 
 last.^^ 
 
 " What — discovered your retreat ? 
 
 " Yes ; and threaten Mr. Lee with arrest, if their de- 
 mands are not immediately satisfied. One man has 
 bought up several of his bonds, and demands payment 
 before the first of next month. 
 
 "And what^s to be done? Can my brother do any 
 thing to avert the blow ? Shall I speak to him on the 
 subject ? 
 
 " Not for the world, Kate.’^ 
 
 " And why so ? ybu know he loves your uncle. 
 
 " Yes, but for that very reason he would be the last 
 man of whom he should ask a favor. 
 
192 
 
 MAEY LEE, OK 
 
 To whom, then, will you apply for help ? 
 
 I have applied already, Kate, to a dear friend.’^ 
 
 You have ? ’’ 
 
 Yes ; to one who never refused me in my need/^ 
 
 Ah ! I understand you. Indeed I And you expect 
 succor from her. But why not apply to the Redeemer 
 himself — the fountain of all goodness ? 
 
 Because, dear Kate, I fear Fm not worthy to ap- 
 proach him ; and I know, besides, he will hear the 
 prayer of the Mother who bore him sooner than mine.^^ 
 
 Then you apply to her merely as an intercessor ? 
 Why, I always thought you expected aid directly from 
 herself. 
 
 Kate, Kate, how often have I told you the con- 
 trary ! ’’ 
 
 Yes ; but I have heard it preached about so often in 
 your pulpits. 
 
 Hush ! some one knocks. Come inF^ 
 
 The door opened,- and Else Curley, wrapped in her old 
 gray cloak, entered the room. 
 
 Without uttering a word of recognition or apology, 
 she advanced to the bed, and laid her withered hand on 
 the temples of the patient. Then, having satisfied her- 
 self as to the progress of the disease, she turned slowly 
 round, and throwing back her hood, addressed Miss 
 Petersham in her usual hoarse, hollow tones : — 
 
 Young woman, why are you here ? she demanded. 
 
 That^s my own affair, replied Kate. By what 
 right do you ask ? 
 
 The right which the age and experience of eighty 
 years give me. I seen many a faver, girl, in my time, 
 but niver yet so dangerous a faver as this. Away from 
 the room — iFs no place for idle visitors. 
 
 And pray, old woman, what reason have you to feel 
 so mnch concern for my safety ? 
 
 The raison^s too ould,^^ replied Else, to spake of 
 now. Yer grandfather, if he lived, cud hardly remim- 
 ber it. But here,^^ she continued, drawing a piece of 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 193 
 
 folded paper from her bosom, '' read this, and judge 
 for yourself, if it^s at Araheera Head ye ought to be/^ 
 
 Kate took the paper from her hand, and accompanied 
 Mary to the parlor. 
 
 said Else, now that she found herself alone 
 with the sick boy ; if he hasn^t lost his senses, I^l try 
 what can be done to clear up this mystery. If the 
 nigger started back frightened, as Lanty says, when he 
 first seen Weeks at Mr. Guirkie^s, he must know some- 
 thing about him ; and accordin to all accounts, the 
 nigger and the boy come from the same plantation. 
 
 9,y, there^s a hole in that wall somewhere worth 
 the ferretin. Look up,^^ she continued, touching the 
 lad on the arm with her fore-finger — '^look up and 
 spake to me.^^ 
 
 Who^s that?^^ murmured the boy, turning on his 
 side, and gazing at the old woman ; are you Sambo ? 
 
 '' Ay, Fm Sambo. 
 
 You^re not Sambo — nigger Sambo. 
 
 Don^t you know me ? 
 
 Yes, but you sure youh*e Sambo — very sure youYe 
 Sambo Nelson ? 
 
 Quite sure — and what’s your name ? ” 
 
 My name — my name’s Natty.” 
 
 Natty what ? ” 
 
 Natty Nelson.” 
 
 And where’s your father ? ” 
 
 My father — my father — well, let me see, my father 
 — where’s my father ? ” 
 
 Where does he live ? ” 
 
 Who ? ” 
 
 Your father.” 
 
 '' Sambo, Sambo, whisper ; don’t be afraid ; he shan’t 
 flog you.” 
 
 Who shan’t flog me ? ” 
 
 '' Father — old Danger, you know. So take me back 
 to old Virginny — take me back, mother calls me. Lis- 
 ten, ain’t that the wash of old Potomac against the ship’s 
 side ? ” 
 
 n 
 
194 
 
 MARY LEE, OR 
 
 '"Hush! don^t speak so much, Natty — tell me, 
 Natty/^ 
 
 '' Ay, ay, sir, by the mark — seven — send all hands 
 aloft — take in sail/^ 
 
 Else, finding it now impossible to draw any further in- 
 formation from the boy, took a small vial from her pocket, 
 and pouring a few drops of the contents into a spoon, 
 gave it to her patient. 
 
 ''There,^^ she muttered, that’ll make you sleep for 
 the nixt hour ; and when ye waken, if yer senses haven’t 
 come back. I’ll try some other manes to rache the 
 sacret.” Then drawing out her stocking, she sat down 
 on a low stool by the bedside, and commenced her 
 knitting. 
 
 This is a very pretty piece of paper indeed,” said 
 Kate, looking at the address as she entered the parlor. 
 
 To her ladyship. Miss Petersham.” 
 
 ** Good, so far ; now for the inside. Eh ! what in the 
 name of all the fairies is this ? ' Lanty Hanlon is my 
 
 name, and Ireland is my nashin, Donegal is my dwillin 
 plas, and heven is my xpectashin.’ His expectation, the 
 villain ! Ha, ha ! if heaven were full of angels like him, 
 I’d rather be excused from joining the company. It 
 must be the fly leaf of the fellow’s prayer-book. But 
 hold, here’s something on the other side.” 
 
 This is to let you no, that ” — here Kate suddenly 
 dropped her voice, and read over the remainder in silence 
 — '' Eandall Barry lies woondid and a prisner in Tamny 
 Barries, i’ll meet yer ladyship this evenin at the castil 
 about dusk, behint the ould boat-house, no more at 
 presint 
 
 but remanes your abaident to command 
 
 Lanty Hanlon.” 
 
 Any thing amiss ? ” inquired Mary, as Kate finished 
 the reading of the precious document — you look 
 alarmed.” 
 
 Alarmed ! do I ? 0, no, it’s nothing particular.” 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 196 
 
 Laxity’s full of mischief — been playing you some 
 trick, perhaps.” 
 
 Lanty ! no, no — it’s a mere trifle ; I must get home, 
 however, as soon as possible. Please ring for Roger — 
 I want him to call the cockswain.” 
 
 As Mary turned to ring the bell, Roger made his ap- 
 pearance at the door, carrying the old silver salver, and 
 awaiting the command of his young mistress to enter. 
 
 Come in, Roger ; what have you got there ? ” said 
 Kate. 
 
 A little refreshment, please, madam. Mr. Lee sends 
 his compliments to Miss Petersham.” 
 
 '' Is he at home ? ” 
 
 No, madam ; he went out in the direction of Araheera 
 a few minutes ago, and gave orders to have cake and 
 wine sent in afore he left.” 
 
 What kind of wine is it, Roger ? ” inquired Kate, 
 smiling over at Mary as she put the question. 
 
 Ahem ! what kind, madam ? why, it’s a — it’s — a 
 very delaceous currant wine — very pure and delicate.” 
 
 Indeed ! ” 
 
 And just twenty-five years old next Christmas. No, 
 I make a mistake there — hem ! — twenty-four years 
 next Christmas — ahem I just twenty-four years — ex- 
 actly.” 
 
 0, it don’t matter,” said Kate, laughing ; a year, 
 you know, is nothing.” 
 
 '' It’s the wine Lady Templeton ust to like so much 
 when she visited the castle, if you remember,” observed 
 Roger, bowing to his mistress. 
 
 '' Currant wine’s but a sorry beverage at best, Roger,” 
 said Kate, mischievously. 
 
 ''Well, perhaps, ladies, you would prefer Champagne 
 or Sherry ? ” 
 
 " 0, no ; no, Roger, don’t trouble yourself.” 
 
 " No trouble in life, ma’am ; only just say so, and I’ll 
 be happy to serve them. But if you try this here, you’ll 
 find it delaceous.” 
 
196 
 
 MARY LEE, OR 
 
 if Yery well *, we must taste it on your recommenda- 
 tion : and now, Eoger, send my men aboard — we must 
 leave instantly/^ 
 
 When the old servant left the room, Mary laid her 
 hand on Kate^s shoulder, and looking at her affection- 
 ately, again expressed her fears that something was 
 wrong at Castle Gregory. 
 
 '^Nothing, Mary — nothing whatever.’^ 
 
 And yet you look deeply concerned. Has Captain 
 Petersham or Mrs. Willoughb^^ been sick ? 
 
 '' No, no, dear child, they^re both quite well. IPs 
 something I must attend to before to-morrow, having no 
 immediate relation to any of the family. 
 
 As Mary stood there, leaning her arm on her compan- 
 ion's shoulder, and looking wistfully in her face, she 
 exhibited a form and features of exquisite beauty. The 
 rays of the declining sun had just then entered the win- 
 dow, and for a second or two bathed her whole person 
 in golden light, illumining her countenance with that 
 celestial glow which holy men say overspreads the fea- 
 tures of the seraphim. Never breathed a fairer form than 
 hers — never shone a fairer face; and yet the beauty 
 of her soul transcended far the loveliness of her per- 
 son. 0, when loveliness of body and soul unites in 
 woman, how truly does she then reflect the image of 
 her Creator — the great source of purity, beauty, and 
 love ! 
 
 '' Kate, dear Kate,'^ murmured Mary, when shall 
 we kneel together before the same altar ? When 
 shall we become sisters in faith, as we are now in 
 affection ? 
 
 '' Sooner, perhaps, than you anticipate,^’ replied Kate, 
 kissing the forehead of the lovely girl. * 
 
 You’ve read the little books I gave you ? ” 
 
 Yes, and liked them too ; but I’ve been reading 
 another book, which speaks more eloquently of your 
 faith, and draws me nearer to the threshold of your 
 church, than all the controversial works ever written.” 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 197 
 
 0, Fm so delighted, dear Kate ! What is it ? 
 
 I can^t tell you that/^ 
 
 Why so ? 
 
 ''You would blush all over, and run away.^^ 
 
 " Did I ever read it ? 
 
 " Never, I believe, though it belongs to you, and to 
 you alone ; for there^s not another like it in the whole 
 world 
 
 Belongs to me ? 
 
 " Yes, to your very self, and jet you’re quite uncon- 
 scious of its possession ; but come with me to the steps 
 — I must not delay another minute.” 
 
 The two young friends now walked hand in hand 
 across the green lawn, and stood at the head of the 
 long flight of steps, looking down at the boatmen pre- 
 paring to leave. 
 
 " Randall’s coming here to-night,” said Mary. 
 
 " Boor fellow ! 1 wish he were safe off to the south ; 
 
 for, indeed, he must soon be caught if he stay here 
 much longer. Do you remember him in your prayers, 
 Mary ? ” 
 
 " Sometimes,” murmured the blushing girl, looking 
 down on the grass at her feet. 
 
 "Then pray for him earnestly to-night, whispered 
 Kate ; and tenderly embracing her dear young friend, 
 she ran down the steps before the latter had time to ask 
 a single word of explanation. 
 
 " Now, my lads,” she cried, jumping into the stern 
 sheets, and taking the tiller in her own hands, "now for 
 it — out with every oar in the boat, and stretch to them 
 with a will ; we must make Castle Gregory in an hour 
 and twenty minutes, if it can be done with oar and sail.” 
 
 " Can’t, Miss Kate 1 impossible ! said the cockswain, 
 tautening the foresheet; "the ebb tide will meet us at 
 Dunree.” 
 
 " Not if this breeze freshens a little,” responded Kate, 
 looking over her shoulder; "and it shall — for there it 
 comes dancing in to us from the mouth of the lough.” 
 
 n * 
 
198 
 
 MARY LEE, OR 
 
 As she spoke, the little boat, impelled by four stout 
 oarsmen, shot out from under the shadow of the rocks, 
 and began to cut her way through the waters. Mary 
 stood for a moment looking down at the receding form 
 of her reckless, light-hearted companion, as she sat in 
 the stern with her hand on the rudder ; and then, wav- 
 ing a last adieu, returned to resume her charge of the 
 cabin boy. 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 199 
 
 CHAPTER XY. 
 
 Week% begins to develop himself. — The Hardwrinkles. - — 
 
 Robert HardwrinkWs ultimate Designs on Mary Lee. 
 
 — Visit from Constabulary Officer. 
 
 '' Come in/^ said Weeks, glancing over Lis shoulder at 
 the tall, dark form of his cousin, Robert Hardwrinkle, 
 standing in the doorway. Come in ; I^m not engaged. 
 
 ‘'Thank you,^^ said his host, creeping softly in, and 
 closing the door noiselessly behind him. “ I thank you ; 
 I merely called, at my good mother^s request, to inquire 
 for your health. She always fears, poor creature, you^re 
 not well when you doiiH come down to join us in family 
 prayer. 
 
 '' Well, can^t say Pm sick, exactly,^^ responded 
 Weeks, throwing up his feet on the back of a chair, and 
 offering his companion a cigar, which the latter modestly 
 declined. “ CaiPt say Pm sick, though I hain^t got 
 quite clear of that confounded wedding scrape yet. But 
 the fact is, my dear fellow, I dread these almighty long 
 prayers of yours — I do, really. 
 
 “ Is it possible ? 
 
 “ A fact ; I feel a sorter out of place like, sitting 
 down there in the family circle — well, kinder green, you 
 know. Why, it’s just like this — I ain’t accustomed to 
 it exactly ; business men in the States hain’t got time to 
 pray, as you do here in the country.” 
 
 “ Ah, but, my dear Ephraim, you should make time, 
 for prayer is indispensable to salvation. You cannot 
 please God without it.” 
 
 “ 0, prayer is a very good thing, I allow,” said Weeks, 
 slowly puffing his cigar, and beating off the smoke with 
 his hand. It’s an excellent thing for those who can 
 attend to it ; but it don’t suit men in trade to spend 
 whole hours at prayer, and neglect their business.” 
 
 “All, but you can attend to both, if you only try.” 
 
200 
 
 MAKY LEE, OR 
 
 Why, we do try. We read the Bible, and go to ‘ 
 meeting three times on the Sabbath ; that^s about as 
 much, I reckon, as could reasonably be expected.’^ 
 
 '' Perhaps so. The people of New England, Pm in- 
 formed, have acquired a great reputation for sanctity. 
 
 Certain, and deserve it too, take the hull of them on 
 an average. There’s the women, for instance, and the 
 farmers, and the country folks all round — they’re all 
 church-going people, and do most of the praying, while 
 the merchants and traders are busy at their commercial 
 pursuits. Well, it’s just like this : one class of our 
 people does the praying, and the other does the trading 
 — kind of makes it easy, you know, on both ; so that, 
 take them on the hull, they’re a very religious people.” 
 
 Ah, but, my dear Ephraim, that thing of halving the 
 worship of God is forbidden by the rules of the holy 
 gospel. Every creature is bound to worship God, and 
 pray to him always — in season and out of season.” 
 
 '' What ! and have their notes protested at the bank ? 
 My dear fellow, business is a sacred thing, and must be 
 attended to.” 
 
 Ah, but you forget, my good cousin, that the great, 
 and, indeed, the only business of life is salvation.” 
 
 Well, supposing it is, (I always thought, myself, 
 salvation was a pretty good kinder doctrine in a general 
 way, and I rather guess too the world should hardly get 
 along so well without it,) still you know it won’t cancel 
 a note, Cousin Robert.” 
 
 '‘Ephraim! Ephraim!” said Hardwrinkle, his cold, 
 stern, sallow countenance exhibiting an expression of 
 saintly sorrow as he spoke, — “ Ephraim, where did you 
 learn to speak of religion with such contemptuous indif- 
 ference ? Have you so soon forgotten the lessons of 
 your pious mother ? She, indeed, was a devoted servant 
 of the Lord. 0, she was a holy soul — praying in sea- 
 son and out of — ” 
 
 “ Precisely,” interrupted Weeks, taking the cigar 
 from his mouth, and knocking the ashes off with his 
 finger, “precisely — that’s just it. She was forever 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 201 
 
 running off to contribution parties and prayer meetings, 
 and neglecting her business at home. By gracious, 
 when father died he warn^t worth a five dollar bill in 
 the world, and I had to slink off to the south to earn my 
 bread, ^mong niggers and cotton bales. It^s all very 
 well to pray, and I don^t object to it no how — but I 
 don't see either the darned use in praying all day and 
 neglecting the main point." 
 
 ''The main point? and what's that, cousin ? " 
 
 " What's that ? why, it's money, ain't it ? " 
 
 " Money ! — you call money the main point ? " 
 
 " Yes, s^r," responded Weeks, emphatically ; "I call 
 it nothing else. Should admire to know what you 
 call it." 
 
 " You shock me, Ephraim. Eeally, you shock me." 
 
 You don't say." 
 
 " Why, you must be a downright infidel, to speak in 
 that irreverent manner." 
 
 " Don't know about that. But I've got my own no- 
 tions about religion, and ain't agoin to change them for 
 any man's way of thinking. Guess I'm old enough now 
 to judge for myself. And as for nine tenths of the reli- 
 gions going, I believe they're danged humbugs." 
 
 " Which of the different Christian denominations do 
 you belong to, may I ask ? " inquired Hardwrinkle. 
 
 " Well, can't say I belong to any in particular. I 
 rather think, though, I like the Unitarians better than 
 most of them. Their ministers are pretty smart sorter 
 men, as a general thing, and 'preach first-rate sermons 
 once in a while. No, I never seemed to have any choice 
 in that way. The fact is, I always calilated to do about 
 right with every man, and I kinder thought that was reli- 
 gion enough for me." 
 
 " Cousin," said Hardwrinkle, after a little reflection, 
 " will you permit me to ask you one question ? " 
 
 " Certainly, my dear fellow ; why not ? Ask as many 
 as you please. Ain't you my cousin ? " 
 
 " I hope you won't be offended, or think me imperti- 
 nent, Ephraim. You're my mother’s sister's child, you 
 
202 
 
 MAEY LEE, OR 
 
 know, and it^s but natural I should feel a lively interest 
 in your welfare, spiritual and temporal/^ 
 
 ''Of course, I^m your mother^s sister^s child — well ! 
 
 "Well, it^s merely this. Do you really believe in the 
 existence of God ? Now, answer me candidly. It^s 
 rather a strange question, but no matter. Do you be- 
 lieve in that dogma ? 
 
 "Yes, sir/^ replied Weeks, thrusting his hands into 
 his pockets and shaking up the silver. "Yes, sir, I 
 believe that — no mistake about it.^’ 
 
 " The Lord be praised ! exclaimed his pious cousin, 
 turning up his eyes. " I^m thankful you have not fallen 
 yet into the lowest depth of the abyss. I really feared, 
 Ephraim, from your manner of speaking, you were an 
 atheist. 
 
 "No, sir ; I believe in two things firmly, and no living 
 man can make me change that belief. I believe in the 
 existence of a first cause, and the perfectibility of man.^^ 
 
 " And is that all ? ’’ 
 
 " That’s all, sir — that’s the length and breadth of my 
 creed.” 
 
 " And how, think you, is man to be perfected ? ” 
 
 " Why, by reason, science, and experience. That’s 
 about all he needs — ain’t it ? ” 
 
 " And what of religion ? — shall it take no part in his 
 perfection ? ” 
 
 "Well — yes, guess it might help some ; that is, if 
 he’d only keep clear of these darned isms, and adopt 
 some sensible kind of religion for himself. The worst 
 thing in the world, cousin, for a business man, is to have 
 any thing to do with the details of religion. They sorter 
 cramp him, you know. Let him lay down a broad plat- 
 form like mine, and stand upon it flat-footed — that’s the 
 way to get along in trade.” 
 
 " And you’re quite serious, Ephraim, in avowing those 
 shocking sentiments.” 
 
 " Shocking or not, they’re mine ; that’s a fact. Why, 
 look here, my good friend ; I have seen too much of your 
 hair-splitting religions in New England not to know what 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 203 
 
 they are by this time. Those deacons, and class leaders, 
 and old maids, and methodistical-looking crowds we see 
 going to church every Sabbath, with their Bibles under 
 their arms, are, in my humble opinion, a darned set of 
 dupes and impostors, the whole concern of them. There^s 
 neither honor or honesty amongst them. By crackie, 
 theyM cut your throat with one hand and carry the Bible 
 in the other. No, sir, a first cause, and the perfectibil- 
 ity of man, or, in other words, the irresistibility of hu- 
 man progress, is about as much as any business man can 
 profess to believe with safety to himself or the interests 
 of trade. 
 
 But is that belief sufficient to save your soul ? 
 
 '' Save my soul ? 0, that’s quite another affair. If 
 
 there be such things as souls, (which is now rather a 
 disputed point,) why, the Creator, who made them, 
 knows best how to take care of them, I presume.” 
 
 Hard wrinkle had never heard such language before on 
 the subject of religion. Bred in the country, and little 
 acquainted with the world, he supposed that however 
 abandoned men might be, or whatever infidel sentiments 
 they might really entertain, the respect in which religion 
 was held by the great majority of mankind would natu- 
 rally repress their inclination to avow them. Brought 
 up, as he was, a strict Presbyterian, and accustomed from 
 his childhood to hear religion spoken of with the utmost 
 reverence, he now appeared both astonished and hurt to 
 hear his cousin talk of it with such cold, reckless con- 
 tempt. For himself, he was the very impersonation of a 
 hypocrite. Mean, sordid, and cunning as a Jew, he had 
 the bland smile and the saintly look forever at his com- 
 mand, and could play the Christian or the demon, as it 
 suited his purpose, with equal adroitness. All his reli- 
 gion was external. It consisted of long prayers, demure 
 looks, pious conversation, black garments, and an ascetic 
 aspect. At church he was never missing on the Sabbath ; 
 hail, rain, or snow, he was there, sitting upright in his 
 pew, motionless and impassible as a statue. And there, 
 too, sat his seven black sisters beside him, tall, thin, and 
 
204 
 
 MARY LEE, OR 
 
 lank, like himself ; not a white spot to be seen about them 
 but their pocket handkerchiefs ; even their very fans were 
 as black as ebony. In the whole world round never was 
 seen so solemn, staid, and church-loving a family, from 
 Eobert, the heir and master, down to Deborah, — or, as 
 she was commonly called by her elder sisters. Baby Deb, 
 — now a young lady of seven and twenty. It happened, 
 however, that religion, by some misfortune or other, 
 instead of softening and expanding their hearts by its 
 divine influence, had withered them up. Its gladdening 
 and exhilarating touch seemed only to have chilled them 
 like an icicle. The bright look and the pleasant smile, 
 which denote the presence of religion in the soul, were 
 never once seen to light up their features. Like melan- 
 choly spectres, dark and stern, they passed through the 
 busy streets, or stole silently away in the shadows of the 
 houses — no one caring to look after them, or bid God 
 bless them for their charity. 0 thou cold, stern monk 
 of Geneva, thou whose heart never thrilled with a 
 generous emotion, whose pulse never throbbed with 
 sympathy for thy kind, this death-like picture of religion 
 is thy handiwork. Thou subtle betrayer of the human 
 conscience, thou dark plotter of treason against the 
 sovereignty of the human soul, how could you look up 
 at the bright heavens above, and see the blessed sun 
 gladdening the earth with his beams, or behold the stars 
 dancing in their orbits to the music of the spheres, and 
 yet be demon enough to curse humanity with such a 
 lifeless religion as this ? 
 
 But of all the members of the Hard wrinkle family, 
 Eobert was the most heartless ; or if, indeed, he had a 
 heart at all, it was as callous as a stone. When the 
 stranger beggar came to his door, (for those of the parish 
 knew him too well to enter his gates,) he neither ordered 
 him from his presence nor hunted his dogs on him. No, 
 he kindly admonished the sufferer to guard against the 
 many dangers and temptations that beset him in his mode 
 of life, counselled him gently to beware of evil company, 
 and then gave the shivering supplicant a religious tract 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 205 
 
 to teach him resignation to the will of Heaven, or a 
 Dispensary ticket to procure ointment for his sores 
 Money was his god, and he adored it. To part with a 
 shilling, save in usury, was like rending his heart-strings. 
 He loved it, not for the use he could make of it in giving 
 employment to others, or in serving the interests of the 
 parish, without loss to himself, but for the mere pleasure 
 of seeing and feeling it with his hands. In this respect 
 his cousin Ephraim was an entirely different man. He, 
 like a true Yankee, was fond of money too ; nay, ready 
 to go through fire and water to obtain it ; but yet he was 
 just as ready, on the other hand, to lend it to a neighbor 
 in a pinch, and think it no great obligation either. He 
 valued money only as a circulating medium — as an agent 
 to carry on trade, or acquire a position for himself in 
 society. He was forever talking, to be sure, of dollars 
 and cents ; but still it was evident to those who happened 
 to be at all acquainted with his disposition and habits of 
 life, that he was by no means a mercenary man. Nor was 
 he, like most lovers of money, envious of his neighbors^ 
 prosperity — not he ; on the contrary, he was pleased to 
 see every one thrive and do well, and ready to bid them 
 God speed into the bargain. There was one peculiarity in 
 him, however, which at first sight looked rather damaging 
 to the character of an honorable man. He never scrupled 
 taking advantage of his neighbor in speculations ; because 
 every man, he contended, should have his eye peeled, 
 and deserved to suffer if he hadnT. It was by sharp 
 bargains men were made smart, and by smart men trade 
 was made to flourish ; and if it happened now and then 
 that a few fell short of their expectations, why, the 
 country at large eventually became the gainer. On the 
 other hand, if his neighbor happened to come the 
 Yankee over to use a favorite expression, it was 
 
 all fair in war — he neither grudged nor grumbled, but 
 '^peeled his own eye a little closer, and went off to 
 speculate on something else. Such were the two cousins. 
 Both were fond of money — the one to gloat over and 
 adore it, the other to use it as an agent to attain the 
 18 
 
206 
 
 MARY LEE, OR 
 
 objects of his pride or his ambition. But to proceed 
 with our story. 
 
 '' Merciful Heavens ! exclaimed Hardwrinkle, after a 
 long pause, during which he seemed to have lost his 
 speech, for he uttered not a syllable, but kept looking 
 intently at his cousin ; ^'merciful Heavens ! such an ex- 
 pression from the mouth of a Christian man — ' if there he 
 such things as souls.’ Ephraim, Ephraim ! I fear you^re 
 irretrievably lost. 0, let me entreat you to pray for 
 light and grace to dispel this darkness of unbelief. 0, 
 if you only read the word of God, join our family prayer 
 every night and morning, and come with me thrice on 
 the Sabbath to hear the outpourings of that faithful 
 servant of the Lord, our dear and reverend brother, Mr. 
 Eattletext, be assured your eyes would be opened to the 
 light of glory shining through at a distance — ” 
 
 ''Say,^^ interrupted Weeks. 
 
 '' The light of glory shining out to — ” 
 
 Say, hold on; Eve heard all that before — could 
 repeat it myself as slick as a deacon. There^s no use in 
 thinking to come it over me with that kinder talk. What 
 I believe, I believe, and I ain^t agoin to believe nothing 
 else, no how you can fix it. A first cause, and the 
 perfectibility of man, is my platform. 
 
 '' Ah, too broad, my dear friend — ^ narrow is the 
 way,^ you know.^^ 
 
 ''Broad — thaEs just precisely what we want. We 
 want a platform broad enough to cover the hull ground. 
 We are a young nation, sir, strong, active, and ambitious, 
 and must have room to stretch our arms east, west, north, 
 and south. Our resources are immense — inexhaustible, 
 and we want a wide field to develop them — and that 
 field, I take it, sir, is the liberty of conscience. 
 
 "You mean liberty to cheat and take advantage of 
 your neighbor if you happen to be clever enough to 
 accomplish it with impunity ? ” 
 
 " Why not? ThaEs the life of trade, my dear fellow 
 — that^s what makes smart men. Hence it is the Yan- 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 207 
 
 kees are the smartest business men in all creation. Your 
 evangelical rules would ruin us in twelve months. 
 
 The laws of God ruin you ? Do you really mean 
 what you say ? 
 
 Well, look here ; I speak only of our merchant and 
 trading classes ; with respect to farmers, laborers, me- 
 chanics, women, and all that kinder folks, they can adopt 
 as many rules and regulations as they please, in the 
 religious line. It don^t make any material difference, I 
 presume, one way or other, since they hain^t got no 
 business to transact ; but you might as well think of 
 corking up the Atlantic in a champagne bottle, as expect 
 the commerce of the States to thrive under the old, stiff, 
 evangelical rules of our grandfathers.^^ 
 
 Ah, Ephraim, Ephraim, speak with respect of those 
 holy men,^^ said Hardwrinkle. 0, I hope and pray,^^ 
 he continued, again raising up his hands and eyes in 
 pious supplication, I hope and pray we may stand as 
 well before the judgment seat as they did.^^ 
 
 Cousin Robert,^^ said Weeks, looking sideways for a 
 moment at the upturned face of his companion, and 
 twirling his watch key as he spoke, — Cousin Robert, 
 youh’e a very godly, pious man, I reckon, and an honest 
 man too ; no mistake about that. But pious people, let 
 me tell you, ainH always to be trusted ; hold on now a 
 minute ; hold on ; Fll just give you an instance in point. 
 I knew a man once in our section of the country, named 
 Pratt — Zeb Pratt, they called him. Zeb was deacon 
 of the Methodist church in Ducksville, for nearly ten years 
 in my own time, and a real out and out Christian of the 
 first brand. Well, he was cracked up so for his sanctity, 
 that he went by the name of Pious Zeb, of Scrabble 
 Hollow. Now Zeb never was known to be absent from 
 meetin, morning, noon, or night — he was punctual as 
 the town clock. Every Sabbath morning, as the bell 
 rang, there was Zeb crossing the Commons, with his old 
 faded crape on his hat, and his Bible under his arm. He 
 was president of all the charitable societies, too, in the 
 district, attended all the prayer meetings, carried his 
 
208 
 
 MARY LEE, OR 
 
 contributions of eggs and chickens every year to the 
 minister, distributed religious tracts to the poor — 
 
 0, what a treasure ! exclaimed Hardwrinkle, un- 
 consciously interrupting the panegyric. What a 
 treasure ! 
 
 ''Treasure! What, Zeb Pratt! By gracious, he was 
 the darndest old villain in all creation — he a treasure ! 
 — the old cheat, heM swindle you out of your eye teeth. 
 Why, the old hypocrite cleared out one morning with all 
 the funds of the Christian Benevolent — 
 
 "Letters for Mr. Weeks,^^ said a servant, knocking at 
 the door. 
 
 " Hand them here,^^ cried the latter, promptly, throw- 
 ing the stump of his cigar into the grate, and snatching 
 his feet off the back of the chair. " Ha, just what Pve 
 been expecting this whole week past — theyh'e from that 
 lawyer of yours, Robert. 
 
 " Of mine ? 
 
 " Why, yes, of your choosing. Rather slow though, 
 for my money. 
 
 " And, please, sir. Miss Rebecca wishes .to know,^^ 
 said the servant, " what tracts to distribute this morning, 
 sir ? ’’ 
 
 " Tell her it don^t matter a great deal which; but she 
 might as well, perhaps, try that last package from the 
 Home Missionary Society.^^ 
 
 " Yes, sir.^^ 
 
 " And, William — 
 
 "Yes, sir.^^ 
 
 " She had better take Deborah with her, and leave 
 Judith, Miriam, and Rachel to meet Mr. Sweetsoul, the 
 colporteur, and make arrangements with him about that 
 Sabbath school at Ballymagahey.^’ 
 
 " Yes, sir ; and please your honor, sir, that woman is 
 here with the three orphans from Ballymastocker.^^ 
 
 " What woman ? 
 
 " McGluinchy^s wife, sir. Her husband died, if you 
 remember, sir, last winter, of the black fever.^^ 
 
 " And what does she want with me ? 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 209 
 
 Why, sir, she can^t pay the rent, she says, till the 
 new crop comes, and she wants your honor to grant her 
 spareance. The bailiff gave her notice to quit yisterday/^ 
 
 Well, you must tell her, William, I pity her very 
 much. I do, indeed, for hers is a very bad case. But I 
 have always made it a rule never to interfere with the 
 law ; it must take its course.’^ 
 
 Yes, sir ; very well, sir ; and the servant bowed 
 and quitted the room. 
 
 So youVe heard from your lawyer at last, Ephraim,’^ 
 said Hardwrinkle, turning to his cousin, who had just 
 finished reading his letter. 
 
 '' Y^e-e-s,’^ replied Weeks, after waiting a whole 
 week for it. These Irish lawyers of yours are rather 
 slow coaches, I expect.^’ 
 
 '' Fast enough, Ephraim, fast enough for the poor man, 
 when he has their claims to satisfy — ay, ay. Heaven 
 look to the poor when they happen to fall into their 
 hands. 
 
 Listen to his letter. 
 
 Dear Sir : Agreeably to your instructions of June 
 — , I wrote yesterday to Mr. Edward Lee, notifying 
 him of the purchase of his notes of hand for one hun- 
 dred pounds, by Ephraim 0. B. Weeks, Ducksville, Con- 
 necticut, United States, now staying at Crohan House, 
 county Donegal, and of his (Mr. Weekses) anxiety to 
 have the debt cancelled by the first of next month, or 
 secured by responsible indorsers, as it is his (Mr. 
 Weekses) intention to return home as soon as possible. 
 Shall be happy to receive further commands, and have 
 the honor to be 
 
 Your very obedient servant, 
 
 ‘^Jeremiah Diddle well. 
 
 ‘'Dublin, 26 Great James street, June — 
 
 “ Humph said Hardwrinkle, after Weeks had read 
 the letter over ; “so youVe made a beginning. 
 
 “ Certainly. Uve got to ; the girl won^t look at me 
 18* 
 
210 
 
 MAHY LEE, OE 
 
 otherwise. I have now called on her a dozen times, and 
 wrote her as many letters, and yet she treats me as coldly 
 as if Vd been an absolute stranger. Well see, however, 
 what the screws can do.^^ 
 
 ''You say Lee himself never gave you any encourage- 
 ment.^^ 
 
 " Why, no ; he only kinder laughs when I allude to 
 it. I swonnie, I don’t know what to make of the man. 
 His conduct’s most unaccountable. Why, he must either 
 take me for a fool or a madman.” 
 
 " You are mistaken, Ephraim ; he takes you for neither. 
 He merely laughs at your presumption in aspiring to the 
 hand of such a high-blooded girl as Mary Lee.” 
 
 " High-blooded humbug — hang your high-bloods ! ” 
 
 "Don’t feel offended, my dear Ephraim — I had no 
 intention — ” 
 
 " No, but that darned old witch. Else Curley, keeps 
 talking to me just in the same style about her aristocracy, 
 so that I’m sometimes most tempted to cowhide her for 
 her impudence. When I inquire how she gets along in 
 bringing things round, the only answer I can get from the 
 old rascal is, 'Wait a while, wait a while, till her pride 
 comes down another peg or two.’ Yes, by crackle,” 
 he continued, rising and pacing the room, with his hands 
 stuck down in his pockets jingling the silver ; " yes, 
 wait a while, till her pride comes down ; just as if the 
 grandson of an old revolutionist of seventy-six warn’t 
 good enough for the best blood in the land.” 
 
 " My dear Ephraim, you don’t understand the Irish 
 people, or you wouldn’t talk so. They’re an old people, 
 you must remember, and, like all old people, proud of 
 their ancestors. You, on the other hand, being a new 
 people, measure the respectability of men and families by 
 the amount of money or property they’re possessed of, 
 simply because you have no ancestors yourselves.” 
 
 " Well, look here, cousin ; be that as it may, I’m not 
 agoin to stay here much longer, any how. This affair 
 must be settled one way or other. When you wrote me, 
 to say this girl was the daughter and heir of old Talbot, 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 211 
 
 I gave up my business and came over here, without 
 waiting even to bid my friends good by. Well, after 
 three weeks^ search and inquiry in Cork and all round 
 for the old woman said to have nursed her, and as 
 long spent in Dublin hunting up the certificate of her 
 mother^s marriage, I came down here fully confident, 
 from your assurances of success, that the girl and her 
 uncle were so almighty poor, theyM jump at my proposal, 
 right straight off. Now then, here I am all of five weeks 
 sneaking up and down to that confounded lighthouse, 
 through thunder and lightning half the time, and groping 
 my way through rain and darkness the other half ; and 
 by crackie, I ain^t one mite nearer mj^ object now than 
 ever.^^ 
 
 I^m sorry, Ephraim, very sorry indeed,’^ replied 
 Hardwrinkle, looking down and sighing regretfully ; 
 
 sorry you^re so much disappointed ; but indeed, indeed 
 it’s not my fault, for surely I’ve done all that could rea- 
 sonably be expected to expedite the affair. As for the 
 two thousand pounds you kindly promised in acknowl- 
 edgment of the little assistance I might be in the mat- 
 ter, you know I should have just as cheerfully done as 
 much, my dear Ephraim, if you never had promised a 
 farthing. No, no ; money has never influenced me, thank 
 Heaven. No, Ephraim ; I hope I have .a conscience to 
 direct me, and a heart, too, to love my relatives well 
 enough to do them a kindness without expecting a rec- 
 ompense.” 
 
 I know it, cousin. I know it. You have been ex- 
 ceedingly kind, and I ain’t agoin to forget your kindness 
 either ; but just look how the case stands. Here I’ve 
 spent already ‘five hundred dollars for the note, that ain’t 
 worth a red cent. Of course, when you recommended 
 me to buy it, you thought otherwise, and so I took your 
 advice. Well, there’s four hundred dollars and over to 
 Else Curley ; and how can I tell but the scheming old 
 witch is ^ doing ’ me all the while ? That and my trav- 
 elling expenses, and loss of time besides, will amount to 
 a pretty considerable sum, let me tell you.” 
 
212 
 
 MARY LEE, OR 
 
 It is a pretty round sum, I admit/ ^ muttered Hard- 
 wrinkle. 
 
 '' Well, it^s just such a sum,^^ said Weeks, ''that Pve 
 made up my mind I ain^t agoin to lose it for nothing. 
 I^m determined to have the girl — no mistake about that. 
 And if she ain^t willing to marry me one way, she shall 
 another. 
 
 " Ah, indeed ; what mean you by that, cousin ? 
 
 "Well, Fve got my own notions about it; thaPs all. 
 By jolly, I ain^t agoin home to Ducksville again empty- 
 handed — catch me at it ! 
 
 " You wouldn^t carry her off by force — would you, 
 eh ? said Hard wrinkle, dropping his voice to a whisper, 
 and looking round the room to see if the doors were 
 closed. 
 
 " The thing has been done,^^ replied Weeks, " and 
 pretty often too in this country of yours, if I ain^t great- 
 ly mistaken.'^ 
 
 " Yes, I admit it has occasionally been done. But in 
 this case I can hardly see how it could be accomplished 
 without danger. 
 
 " Why, there’s such a thing as a boat to be had, I 
 guess, and the distance to carry her ain’t so very far that 
 you can’t find half a dozen stout fellows to do it. I 
 shouldn’t like much, though, to go to these extremes if 
 there was any possibility of obtaining her consent by 
 other means. But have her I shall — no mistake about 
 that.” 
 
 "Hush, hush!” ejaculated Hardwrinkle ; "there’s 
 some one at the door — come in.” 
 
 The door opened, and an active, muscular-looking man, 
 of middle age, entered and advanced to the table at which 
 Hardwrinkle was sitting. He was the officer of constabu- 
 lary whom the reader has seen a few nights before at 
 Castle Gregory, with Captain Petersham. 
 
 "Ah, it’s you, is it?” exclaimed Hardwrinkle, rising 
 suddenly from his chair. " Well, any news of Barry ? ” 
 
 " He’s arrested, sir, and now a prisoner in Tamny bar- 
 racks.” 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 213 
 
 What, arrested I eh ! that^s capital news. Please 
 step to the next room — excuse me, Mr. Weeks; Pll 
 return presently. 
 
 Go ahead — don^t mind me,^' replied Weeks, draw- 
 ing a cigar from his case and preparing to light it. 
 
 Now,^^ said Hardwrinkle, carefully closing the door, 
 '*now for the details. Mr. Weekses notions of these 
 young revolutionists don^t exactly harmonize with ours, 
 you know, so it^s just as well he don^t hear our conversa- 
 tion on the subject. Now for your story. 
 
 Well, sir, we crossed the ferry, as you suggested, 
 proceeded on to Doe Castle, and thence to Rann Point. 
 There we met the man who gave you the information first 
 about Barry^s intention to escape — I forget his name — 
 he^s one of your tenants. 
 
 Carson, you mean.^^ 
 
 '"No, sir ; the man you sent down to spy about the 
 lightliouse, you remember ; the one who listened at Else 
 Curley^s door, and overheard the conversation between 
 her and Barry about his going to Aranmore.^^ 
 
 0, yes, yes ; Barker, the Bible reader.^^ 
 
 ‘^Barker — precisely — that’s the man; a pious soul 
 he is, too.^’ 
 
 'Wery — very, indeed. He’s a most excellent man, 
 is Barker.” 
 
 ** Well, sir, we met him coming up from the shore, 
 where he had been distributing tracts among the fisher- 
 men, by way of an excuse. He told us he had just seen 
 Barry jump from a boat in company of three or four stout 
 fellows, and enter one of the huts. They were all 
 strangers to him, he said, except Barry himself, and 
 another who seemed to be the most active of the party, 
 and whom he had seen before, but couldn’t remember 
 where.” 
 
 Stop a moment ; did he describe his dress or per- 
 son ? ” 
 
 *^He did, but I paid little attention to it, not thinking 
 it a matter of much consequence. It appears to me, 
 
214 
 
 MARY LEE, OR 
 
 though, he said something about his wearing a green 
 jacket or a fur cap, or something to that effect/^ 
 
 '' The very man, sir ; that^s Lanty Hanlon, if he^s 
 alive, and quite as dangerous a man, too, as Barry/ ^ 
 
 ''Lanty Hanlon — impossible, sir. You mean the fel- 
 low against whom you issued the warrant for the assault 
 on Mr. Weeks ? ’’ 
 
 " The identical person.^’ 
 
 "Pardon me — that cannot be, Mr. Hardwrinkle — 
 Hanlon was seen at a cockfight in Kindrum not six hours 
 ago.^’ 
 
 "I have no doubt of that,^^ replied Hardwrinkle. 
 " But, my dear sir, you little know what that villain is 
 capable of doing. Why, sir, it was once sworn on oath 
 before me, that this very Lanty Hanlon was seen at a 
 wake in Gran tin Glen, at a wedding in Bally magahey, 
 and at a christening in Callen, the self-same night, and 
 yet these places are seven miles apart, and nearly equi- 
 distant from each other. 
 
 " He must be an extraordinary man,^^ said the officer, 
 smiling incredulously. 
 
 " He^s a most dangerous man, sir, to be permitted to 
 go free in any community. What do you think, sir ? — 
 that fellow met one of Mr. Johnston^s gamekeepers on 
 Benraven Mountain, some six weeks ago, where he hap- 
 pened to be coursing for hares. Well, sir, he first took 
 the gun from the keeper, and then left him gagged and 
 tied to a tree for the whole night ; and next morning, 
 when the unfortunate man was accidentally discovered by 
 one of the herdsmen, he was more dead than alive from 
 cold and h linger. 
 
 "Was he punished for the outrage ? 
 
 "No, sir; he managed to escape that very cleverly. 
 The moment he secured the keeper, he jumped on the 
 first horse he found on the mountain, galloped for life to 
 Sandy Mount, then, secreting the horse among the trees, 
 walked into Mr. Johnston^s parlor, and having apologized 
 to that gentleman for having, contrary to law, shot some 
 grouse on his preserves, and obtained his pardon, again 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 216 
 
 mounted, rode back, and left the horse where he found 
 him. Next morning, when the gamekeeper returned and 
 made his complaint against Hanlon, Mr. Johnston ordered 
 him instantly from his presence, called him a drunkard 
 and a liar, and protested he had never heard of such an 
 attempt at imposition in his life — Hanlon having been 
 that very night, and at the very time the outrage was 
 alleged to have been perpetrated, standing before him 
 in his own room. But with respect to Barry, how did 
 you succeed in arresting him ? 
 
 Simply enough, sir. We hired a boat, got our men 
 in, and lay at anchor some five or six fathoms from the 
 beach, knowing well Barry and his party would endeavor 
 to escape next morning at daybreak, by rowing along the 
 shore as far as Horn Head, and there set sail for Aran- 
 more. It turned out just as we expected. At the first 
 peep of day, the party got into the boat and shoved off. 
 They were ahead of us when they started, and we let 
 them keep ahead for two miles or more, till we had gone 
 clear out of sight of the fishermen^s huts. Then, stretch- 
 ing to our oars, we soon came alongside, and grappled 
 with irons we had taken with us for the purpose. 
 
 Hah ! and so secured him at last ? 
 
 Yes, sir, we secured him, but not without consider- 
 able difficulty. 
 
 What ! did he resist ? 
 
 Kesist ! yes, as man never resisted before. It ap- 
 pears the crew that conveyed him to Bann Point left him 
 there, and returned home, confident he was out of all 
 danger, and the fresh hands appointed to convey him to 
 Aranmore were old men, hardly able to paddle an oar or 
 handle a sheet. He was, therefore, left to depend almost 
 entirely upon his own resources. The instant we laid 
 hold of the gunwale of his boat, he sprang up in the 
 stern sheets, and demanded what we meant by stopping 
 him. M^m a queen^s officer,^ said I, ' and hold a warrant 
 for your arrest.^ 
 
 '' ' Ah, a queen^s officer,^ he repeated, glancing at my 
 civilian dress. ' Indeed ! Well, sir, take me if you 
 
216 
 
 MARY LEE, OR 
 
 can ; ^ and coolly drawing a pistol from his belt, he said 
 to his men, ' Comrades, youMl find another pair in my 
 overcoat ; use them if necessary/ Then stepping across 
 the thwarts, and before I could rise from my seat, he 
 snatched the anchor from the bows of his boat, and with 
 one hand swung it as he would a walking-stick into the 
 bottom of ours. The effect was instantaneous ; the 
 sharp iron cut right through the thin sheathing of the 
 little gig, and in two minutes she filled to her water 
 line. 
 
 '''Now, my lads,^ he cried, 'loose the grapples, and 
 away with them.^ 
 
 " Good Heavens ! exclaimed Hardwrinkle ; " his ob- 
 ject was to sink you.^^ 
 
 " Of course it was — and a bold attempt he made to 
 accomplish it. When I saw how desperate the case was 
 likely to prove, I ordered my men to jump aboard and 
 secure him at all hazards, leaving our own boat to her 
 fate ; and setting them the example myself, I sprang into 
 the stern, presented a pistol at his head, and commanded 
 him to surrender, or I should instantly fire. I had hard- 
 ly uttered the words, however, when the board on which 
 I stood was struck from under me, and in another second 
 I found myself in the water, plunging and grasping for 
 something to lay hold of. By this time my men had suc- 
 ceeded in scrambling over his boat^s side ; so they im- 
 mediately took me in, and then unhooked the grapple to 
 relieve us of the sinking gig. But now that we did suc- 
 ceed in boarding him, we found ourselves in a greater 
 difficulty than ever. Our firearms were entirely useless, 
 — the powder being wet with the sea water, — and there 
 stood the young outlaw, pointing a brace of pistols at 
 our heads. ' Surrender,' said I ; ^ I command you, in 
 the name of the queen, to surrender instantly.' 
 
 " ' Ha, ha ! ' he laughed — ' surrender to hounds like 
 you ! 0 for the firm earth to stand on, and a good thong 
 
 to kennel such cowardly dogs. A pistol bullet is too 
 honorable a death for such drivelling slaves.' 
 
 " This taunt stung me to the quick ; and calling on my 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 217 
 
 men to rush on him in a body, I sprang forward myself 
 to seize him ; but, alas, I was again unfortunate, and fell 
 flat on my face on the bottom of the boat. In another 
 instant his heel was on my neck.’’ 
 
 '' ' Lie there, dog ! ’ he cried, crushing me till my eyes 
 seemed to start from their sockets ; ^ lie there, and die 
 the only death you deserve.’ But the braggart, in his 
 turn, had little time to enjoy his advantage ; for my men, 
 seeing the danger I was iu, and maddened by the fellow’s 
 scornful language, closed in upon him. As they rushed 
 forward, he fired both pistols in their faces, and two of 
 them fell wounded beside me.” 
 
 ^'Dreadful! ” exclaimed Hardwrinkle. 
 
 * Now,’ cried I, rising from my disgraceful position, 
 
 * now, my men, hold him ; handcuff him ; kill him if he 
 attempt to escape.’ But my orders were of no avail, 
 for he had sprung into the sea, and was making for the 
 shore. 
 
 ‘ He’s gone, sir,’ cried one of the men. 
 
 * Gone ! ’ , 
 
 '' ' Yes ; there he is, with his coat off, swimming away 
 
 from us like a water dog.’ 
 
 ^ What’s to be done ? what’s to be done ? ’ I cried 
 in an agony of disappointment. ' Has no one presence 
 of mind to think, of some means to capture him ? He’s 
 within half a gunshot of the beach, and will reach it be- 
 fore we can get our oars into the rollocks.’ 
 
 Just then the thought of the firearms in his over- 
 coat occurred to me, and snatching up the garment, I 
 drew a holster pistol from its pocket, and aiming as de- 
 liberately as I could in a moment of such excitement, fired. 
 The ball, as good fortune would have it, struck him on 
 the right arm, and disabled him. ^ Now,’ cried I, as I 
 saw him sputter in the water like a wounded bird, ' now, 
 my lads, to your oars, and pull for your lives — pull — 
 pull — with all your might, or he sinks before we can 
 reach him.’ 
 
 In another minute we had taken him aboard, ex- 
 hausted and bleeding, and there he lay in the boat’s bows, 
 19 
 
218 
 
 MARY LEE, OR 
 
 without word or motion of any kind, till we reached the 
 quay under Tamny Barracks/^ 
 
 Well, thank Heaven, said Hardwrinkle, '' he^s safe 
 for the present at least, and to-morrow I sign his committal 
 
 to Lefibrd jail. As for you, Mr. C , you have done 
 
 your duty as a faithful servant of the crown, and shall 
 not go unrewarded. And now let us return and carry 
 the good news to Mr. Weeks. 
 
 '^My dear cousin,’^ said Hardwrinkle, entering Weekses 
 room, followed by the officer of constabulary, I have 
 good tidings for you.’^ 
 
 You have — eh ? 
 
 Yes, tidings of great import.^' 
 
 ^'Indeed — let^s hear what they Ye like.^^ 
 
 Why, Eandall Barry (your rival), he said, whisper- 
 ing the word in his ear, ^'is a prisoner in Tamny Bar- 
 racks. 
 
 Pshoh — you donY say so ? Is it possible ? 
 
 A fact, sir/^ 
 
 • On what charge, pray ? ’’ 
 
 Treason — treason against the state. YouVe heard 
 all about him — have you not ? 
 
 Why, yes, Fve heard of his being connected with 
 some young revolutionists — thatY all.^^ 
 
 Humph ! you speak lightly of the matter, my good 
 cousin. 
 
 ‘'And I think lightly of it too,^^ replied Weeks, 
 promptly, “ so far as it may be regarded as a crime. 
 Were I in his place, I should do precisely what he has 
 done.^^ 
 
 “ What, revolutionize the country ? 
 
 “ Yes, by crackie. It’s full time, I should think, the 
 people got rid of these old fogy monarchies of yours. 
 These darned old tyrannical governments ought to have 
 been sent to kingdom come long ago. As for his being 
 a rival of mine, why, I donY think the less of him for 
 that ; and if you have busied yourself about his arrest 
 on that account, I tell you, Kobert, you make an almighty 
 
THE YANEIEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 219 
 
 mistake if you think Fm under any obligation to you for 
 the job/^ 
 
 Why, cousin, you surprise me/^ 
 
 Well, them’s my sentiments, notwithstanding. He’s 
 a fine, spirited, gallant-looking young fellow, that Barry ; 
 and if he hate and despise your slow-going, drivelling 
 old kings and queens, by thunder I like him the better 
 for telling them so to their teeth ; and if he loves Mary 
 Lee, why shouldn’t he try to catch her the best way he 
 can ? Let every man have a fair chance.” 
 
 If these be your sentiments, my dear cousin,” said 
 Hard wrinkle, ''they are very different, I must confess, 
 from what I had expected of you.” 
 
 "Well, sir, they are my sentiments precisely — real 
 true blue Yankee sentiments, and no mistake.” 
 
 " Well, well, I must acknowledge I was deceived in 
 you, cousin, and I’m sorry for it. But we must postpone 
 further discussion on the subject for the present. I see 
 Rebecca and her sisters out there on their way to Bally- 
 magahey, and must speak to them a word or two of cau- 
 tion before they leave. Pray excuse me, Ephraim.” 
 
 " Go ahead, go ahead,” replied Weeks, preparing to 
 light another cigar — "go ahead, and don’t mind me ; ” 
 and the Yankee was left alone, at last, to enjoy the com- 
 fort of a quiet Havana. 
 
220 
 
 MARY LEE, OR 
 
 CHAPTEE XVI. 
 
 Reflection on an Irish Churchyard. — Miss Rebecca and 
 her Cousin Weeks. — Piety and Infldelity. 
 
 Mr. Weeks left his room soon after his cousin, — it 
 being now somewhat advanced in the forenoon, — and 
 with a cigar in his mouth, descended the steps at the hall 
 door, and sauntered out to breathe the fresh air. It was 
 a delightful morning. Every thing looked cheerful and 
 pleasant. The new mown hay lay in long swaths on the 
 lawn, exhaling its perfume under the warm sun. The 
 mowers, swart with toil, were slowly sweeping their 
 scythes through the ripe grass, and moving onwards, 
 side by side, with measured step across the broad field. 
 Over the tops of the trees which skirted the demesne be- 
 low, and through the vistas which time or the axe had 
 made, appeared patches of Mulroy Bay, shining as calm 
 and bright as a mirror. On its southern shore a little 
 white-washed building, showing a gilded cross on its 
 gable, stood facing the sea, and round about among the 
 fern and hawthorns, with which it was surrounded, a 
 number of white headstones peeped out here and there to 
 mark it for a burial place of the dead. This was Mass- 
 mount, where our foreign friend first saw Mary Lee, as 
 she knelt at the altar. It was a solitary spot, and as 
 pleasant for the dead to rest in as could be found in the 
 whole world. No house within a mile of it, and no noise 
 to disturb its repose but the twitter of the swallow about 
 the eaves of the little church, or the gentle wash of the 
 waves amongst the sea shells at its base. And if, oh 
 the Sunday morning, the silence which reigned there 
 through the week was broken, it only seemed to make 
 the stillness which succeeded the more solemn and pro- 
 found. To the eastward of the chapel, and surrounded 
 by a^elt of trees, stood the modest residence of Mr. 
 Guirkie — its white chimneys just visible from the win- 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 221 
 
 dows of Crohan House ; and trendin.g away to the west- 
 ward lay a long tongue of meadow land called Morass 
 Ridge, on the tip or extreme point of which rose up the 
 still majestic ruins of Shannagh, once a stronghold of 
 the far-famed O^Dougherty of Innishowen. Midway be- 
 tween these two prominent features in the landscape ap- 
 peared the old churchyard of Massmount, with its little 
 white chapel facing the sea. 
 
 Mr. Weeks, touched by the simple beauty of the scene, 
 laid himself down half unconsciously on the greensward 
 to enjoy it at his leisure. 
 
 Dear Irish reader, let us sit down beside him for a mo- 
 ment, and view the picture also. There is nothing in it 
 new to your eyes — nothing you haven^t seen a thou- 
 sand times before. It was only an old churchyard, and 
 old churchyards, in Ireland, you know, are always the 
 same. The same old beaten footpaths through the rank 
 grass — the same old hawthorn trees which in early sum- 
 mer shed their white blossoms on the green graves — 
 the same old ivy walls overshadowing the moss-covered 
 tombs of the monk and the nun. No, there was nothing 
 strange or new in the picture — on the contrary, every 
 thing there was as familiar to you as your own thoughts. 
 But tell us, dear reader, — now that we can converse 
 quietly together, — does not the sight of such a spot 
 sometimes awaken old memories ? Do you still remem- 
 ber the place in the old ruins where the prior’s ghost 
 was seen so often after sunset, or the fairy tree beside 
 the holy well which no axe could cut down, nor human 
 hand break a branch off with impunity ? But, above all, 
 do you remember the shady little corner where the dear 
 ones lie buried — the grassy mound where you knelt to 
 drop the last tear on bidding farewell to the land you 
 will never see again ? 0, dear reader, do your thoughts 
 
 ever wander back to these blessed scenes of your youth ? 
 When in the long summer evenings, after the toil of the 
 day is over, you sit by the porch of the stranger enjoy- 
 ing the cool night air, and gazing up at the sparkling 
 heavens does your eye ever roam in search of that star 
 19 * 
 
222 
 
 MARY LEE, OR 
 
 you should know better than all the rest, the bright one 
 that shines on your own native isle of the ocean ? 
 When your heart feels sad under a sense of its isola- 
 tion, — nay, when it turns with disgust from the treach- 
 erous and the cold-hearted, who, having wiled you to 
 their shores, now deny you even a foothold on their 
 soil — does memory then ever carry you back to the old 
 homestead among the hills, where in bygone years you 
 have met so many generous souls round the humble 
 hearthstone ? Alas, alas ! when you look at those once 
 stalwart limbs you gave your adopted country as a rec- 
 ompense for the freedom she promised you — now wast- 
 ed away in her service — when you think of the blood 
 you shed in her battles, the prayers you offered for her 
 prosperity, the pride with which you heard her name 
 spoken of in other lands, and the glorious hopes you 
 once entertained of seeing her the greatest and the best 
 of the nations of the earth — and yet to think, 0, to 
 think that the only return she makes for all this is to 
 hate and spurn you, — when thoughts like these weigh 
 down your heart, dear reader, do you not sometimes 
 long to see the old land again, and lay your shattered 
 frame down to rest in that shady corner you remember 
 so well in the old churchyard ? 
 
 But they tell you here you must not indulge such 
 thoughts as these. On the contrary, you must forget 
 the past ; you must renounce your love for the country 
 that gave you birth ; you must sever every tie that 
 knits you to her bosom ; you must abjure and repudiate 
 her for evermore : the songs you sang and the stories you 
 told so often by the light of the peat fire, must never be 
 sung or told again ; all the associations of home and 
 friends, all the pleasant recollections of your boyhood, all 
 the traditions of your warriors and sainted ancestors, 
 must be blotted from your memory, as so many treasons 
 against the land of your adoption. Or, if you do venture 
 to speak of old times and old places when you meet with 
 long absent friends round the social board, it must be 
 in whispers and with closed doors, lest the strangers 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND 
 
 223 
 
 should hear you as they pass by. And behold the return 
 they make you for these sacrifices I’ They give ypu free- 
 dom ! What ! freedom to live like helots in the land 
 they promised to make your own — freedom to worship 
 your Creator under a roof which a godless mob may, at 
 any moment, fire with impunity — freedom to shed your 
 blood in defence of a flag that would gladly wave in tri- 
 umph over the extinction of your race. Speak, exile ! 
 are you willing to renounce your fatherland for such rec- 
 ompense as this? 0, if you be, may no ray of sunlight 
 ever visit your grave — no friend or relation, wife or 
 child, ever shed a tear to hallow it. If youVe fallen so 
 low as to kiss the foot that spurns you, and grown so 
 mean as to fawn upon a nation that flings you from her 
 with disgust, then go and live the degraded, soulless 
 thing thou art, fit only to batten on garbage and rot 
 in a potter’s field. Go ! quit this place, for the sight of 
 an old Irish churchyard has no charms for you. 
 
 Mr. Weeks h^d been sitting for half an hour or more 
 contemplating the scene before him, when, hearing the 
 sound of approaching footsteps, he turned to see who 
 was coming. 
 
 It was Rebecca Hardwrinkle, accompanied by the col- 
 porteur and two of her younger sisters, on their way to 
 Ballymagahey. 
 
 Well, there,” said Weeks, rising, and shaking off the 
 chips he had been whittling from a withered branch that 
 happened to lie within his reach — '' there ! I thought 
 you’d gone long ago.” 
 
 ‘"My brother detained me,” replied Rebecca, ^'to se- 
 lect some tracts from a parcel he had just received as I 
 was leaving the house ; and seeing you here, I passed 
 this way to offer you one for your inspection. It’s on 
 the efficacy of prayer.” 
 
 Humph! I know what you’re coming at, I guess; 
 I haven’t been at family worship this morning.” 
 
 Ah, cousin, were it only once you absented your- 
 self, we might find some excuse, but to be absent so 
 often — 0, dear ! ” 
 
224 
 
 MARY LEE, OR 
 
 Vfell, now, look here ; I don^t profess to be much of 
 a Christian, you know, and consequently you can^t ex- 
 pect me to get used to your traces right straight off/^ 
 Well, but your religious sentiments are so very 
 shocking, Ephraim, that I tremble to think of your soul, 
 and the end which awaits it if you turn not speedily to the 
 Lord. Eead that little book, however, attentively, and 
 you will find it of great spiritual advantage. And then, 
 dear cousin, I shall have you prayed for next Sabbath/’ 
 Me prayed for ? ” 
 
 Certainly.” 
 
 Guess not.” 
 
 Why, can you have any possible objection to be 
 prayed for by the God-fearing, pious servants of the 
 Lord?” 
 
 Well, yes, I rather think I have — a slight one.” 
 How very strange ! Did you only once feel the ben- 
 efit a Christian derives from the prayers of the elect — ” 
 
 ''Just so — but I’m kinder green, you know, in that 
 line.” 
 
 " Brother Eobert, and Deborah there, and Hannah, and 
 all of us, have been prayed for so often, and have always 
 felt our strength renewed in so wonderful a manner I ” 
 
 " All right. But you see, I feel considerable strong 
 as it is, and ain’t disposed to trouble you just at present. 
 Say, cousin, whereabouts here is the priest’s house? 
 Ain’t that it over there west of the pond ? I want to 
 call on the old feller this morning.” 
 
 "Yes, that’s his house; but what can your business 
 be with Mm, Ephraim?” 
 
 "Well, not much, if any; should like to ask him a ques- 
 tion or two — that’s all.” 
 
 " Are you not afraid? ” 
 
 " Afraid ! — afraid of what ?” 
 
 " To converse with him in the weak state of your soul.” 
 
 " Why, what in creation do you take me for ? ” 
 
 " Don’t be offended, cousin. I speak to you for your 
 own good.” 
 
 " My own good ! I ain’t a fool — am I ? ” 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 225 
 
 No, no, dear Ephraim, but you know you^re weak.’’ 
 
 Weak ! shoh ! you don’t say so.” 
 
 I speak the truth ; you will never be able to resist 
 him. He’s a most insinuating, dangerous man.” 
 
 The old priest ? ” 
 
 Yes. You’ve heard, I suppose, how he converted 
 the tutor at the old parsonage ? ” 
 
 No — can’t say I have.” 
 
 ''And poor Kate Petersham, too,” put in Deborah; 
 " she’s on the very verge of the gulf.” 
 
 " There ! by the way, I had almost forgotten it. I 
 must call on these Petershams right off. What sorter 
 girl, though, is this Kate you speak of ? Kinder crazy — 
 ain’t she ? ” 
 
 " A little weak,” responded Kebecca, "but still a 
 good natured soul. Some of her neighbors, poor thing, 
 have lately been telling idle stories about her ; but I’m 
 sure they’re all false. For my part, I can’t believe them. 
 And I’m sure it’s nothing to me if she turned Catholic 
 to-morrow. Only people will talk, you know, Ephraim.” 
 
 " Well — nothing prejudicial to her honor, I presume.” 
 
 Rebecca glanced significantly at her sister and Mr. 
 Sweetsoul, but said nothing in reply. 
 
 " Excuse me,” said Weeks ; " I shouldn’t have put 
 that question, perhaps, but the fact is, the young lady 
 has invited me to Castle Gregory, and I can’t very well 
 refuse ; besides, her brother. Captain Petersham, is anx- 
 ious to have me call on him.” 
 
 " Did the lady invite you herself? ” inquired Rebecca. 
 
 " Why, certainly. I had a note from her a week ago 
 to that effect.” 
 
 " Written by herself? ” 
 
 " Well, her name was signed to it — Kate Petersham.” 
 
 Rebecca again glanced at her companions, and tried to 
 blush and look mortified. 
 
 " Well, it did seem kinder strange, I allow,” said 
 Weeks; ''but not being well posted up in the customs 
 of the country, I didn’t know but it was all right.” 
 
 ' Don’t go, Ephraim,” said Rebecca, laying her black- 
 
226 
 
 MARY LEE, OR 
 
 gloved hand affectionately on his arm. Don^t go ; take 
 my advice. 
 
 She can^t hurt me, I reckon — can she ? 
 
 '' No, dear Ephraim ; she can’t hurt your body, but she 
 might your soul. You’re weak, you know — very weak 
 indeed, and she is very captivating both in person and 
 conversation. I don’t like, my dear cousin, these visits 
 to Miss Petersham and the Catholic priest, especially 
 without some one to protect you against the dangerous 
 influence of their society.” 
 
 You don’t, eh ? ” 
 
 No, dear cousin.” 
 
 Look at me, Miss Hardwrinkle,” said Weeks, thrust- 
 ing his hands down into his pockets, and hitching up his 
 shoulders. 
 
 I see.” 
 
 Is there any thing remarkably green about me ? ” 
 
 Green ! no.” 
 
 Ain’t I a Yankee, born and bred, eh ? ” 
 
 Certainly.” 
 
 And do you really believe I don’t know nothing — 
 that I can’t take care of myself among a parcel of Irish. 
 What sort of folks d’ye think we Yankees are, any 
 how ? ” 
 
 Don’t grow vexed with me, dear Ephraim ; don’t 
 grow vexed. I would not offend you for the world. I 
 only speak for your own good, dear cousin. Mr. Sweet- 
 soul here knows how often I have wept over your weak- 
 ness, and how incessantly I have prayed that the light of 
 truth might dispel the darkness — ” 
 
 Stop ! stop I — thunder I Hain’t I been listening to 
 all that long talk till I’m enamost crazy?” 
 
 0, dear, he has grown so nervous of late, Mr. Sweet- 
 soul,” said Rebecca, wringing her hands, and turning to 
 the colporteur, that he cannot bear a single word of 
 advice.” 
 
 Nervous ! and where’s the wonder, with seven sisters 
 of you talking religion at me from morning till night. 
 Why, I can’t smoke a cigar, by crackie, but I’m taken to 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 227 
 
 task for it. It^s too great an indulgence, or it^s too 
 worldly-looking, or it^s one darned thing or other. 
 
 But listen to me, dear Ephraim ; don^t you feel that 
 we have your spiritual welfare at heart ? and donH you 
 know, when we speak to you of religion, it is only because 
 we love you too well to see you perish before our eyes ? 
 0, if the sweet dew of religion only once touched — 
 
 The dew of religion! there! That^s the talk — go 
 ahead, cousin ; I shan’t say another word on the sub- 
 ject — go ahead. I’ll stand it out, I guess, if any man 
 can ; ” and he picked up the branch he had just been 
 whittling, and set to it again, as vigorously as if he had 
 been whittling for a wager. Ephraim C. B. Weeks was 
 evidently excited, but tried very hard to keep cool. 
 
 And now, Mr. Sweetfeoul, you may judge whether 
 we have reason or not to fear for our dear cousin,” said 
 Rebecca, again turning to the colporteur. Just look at 
 this trinket. Here is a pair of popish rosary beads, which 
 the chambermaid found on the floor of Mr. Weeks’s bed- 
 room the morning after he first entered the lighthouse 
 lodge at Araheera ; ” and the speaker held them up be- 
 tween her Anger and thumb for inspection. 
 
 '' Dreadful ! ” 
 
 '' This was his first lesson from the Romish light- 
 keeper and his pretty daughter.” 
 
 I have already explained to you how I came by these 
 beads,” said Weeks. I picked them up where they 
 had fallen from an old Bible at the lighthouse, and un- 
 thinkingly put them in my pocket. But no matter now ; 
 fire away.” 
 
 Don’t grow angry, Ephraim.” 
 
 '' I ain’t angry.” 
 
 '' I merely call your attention to the beads to show 
 you the danger you have to guard against in forming 
 Catholic associations. Is there any thing in that to make 
 you angry ? ” 
 
 I ain’t angry, I tell you ; not a mite.” 
 
 You are angry. I see it in your countenance, Ephra- 
 im. 0, if you only experienced religion for one little 
 
228 
 
 MARY LEE, OR 
 
 week, how easily you could repress this irritability ! 
 There, now ! see how you cut up that stick so pettishly. 
 Just see how nervous you are.^^ 
 
 I tell you I ainH nervous, cried Weeks, at the top 
 of his voice. 
 
 Well — so excited.^^ 
 
 I ain^t excited. 
 
 Why, dear me, Mr. Sweetsoul, only look at him.^^ 
 
 ** There ! broke out Weeks at length, losing his tem- 
 per altogether, and flinging away both knife and branch ; 
 ''there! by thunder, if this ain^t the most inhuman 
 treatment ever man suffered.^' 
 
 " Stay, Ephraim, stay, cousin ; do, for one moment,^^ 
 entreated Rebecca, endeavoring to lay hold of his arm. 
 
 " Not a darned second , ht cried, buttoning his coat 
 and hurrying oflf, full of indignation at the idea of being 
 treated so like a child or a fool. " By gracious thunder,^^ 
 he added, halting for an instant on his step and looking 
 back, "you ought to turn to at once and spoon-feed me.^^ 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 229 
 
 CHAPTER XVIL 
 
 Weeks visits Mrs, Motherly. — A Conversation on Slavery. 
 
 — Weeks seems rather disagreeably surprised to meet an 
 
 old Acquaintance in Uncle Jerry^s Negro. 
 
 Mr. Weeks, on parting with his lady cousins, (which 
 he did rather abruptly, as we have seen in the last chap- 
 ter,) returned to Crohan House, and lighting another 
 cigar, mounted the sober animal he generally selected for 
 a morning^s ride, and set out for Father Brennan^s. 
 When he arrived at the reverend gentleman’s residence, 
 he felt somewhat disappointed to learn from the servant 
 that his master had gone some five or six miles on a sick 
 call, and could not possibly return till late in the evening. 
 Resolving, however, to have an interview with the good 
 priest as soon as possible, he drew a card from the richly- 
 carved case he always had about him, and having written 
 a request to that efiect on the back of it with his pencil, 
 handed it to the servant, and then turned his horse’s head 
 in the direction of Greenmount Cottage. 
 
 Mrs. Motherly was sitting on the steps of the hall 
 door, knitting her stocking, and looking quite happy as 
 she plied her needles. The good woman was dressed, as 
 usual, in her large, well-frilled cap and white apron, with 
 her bunch of keys hanging by her side, as much perhaps 
 for show as convenience. On the grass at her feet a 
 gray cat lay stretched in the sun, with half a dozen kit- 
 tens playing about her on the green. 
 
 ''Good afternoon, Mrs. Motherly; how do?” said 
 Weeks. " Mr. Guirkie at home ? ” 
 
 " Your sarvint, sir,” replied the matron, rising and run- 
 ning her needles into the stocking, after she had waited 
 to count the stitches. " Mr. Guirkie’s not in, sir.” 
 
 "Ain’t?” 
 
 "No, sir; he left here about an hour ago for Rath- 
 mullen.” 
 
 20 
 
230 
 
 MARY LEE, OR 
 
 Eathmullen — let me see — that^s the place he visits 
 so often ? 
 
 Yes, sir/^ 
 
 Goes there every week — don^t he ? 
 
 ‘‘ Every Thursday, sir/^ 
 
 On business, I presume/^ 
 
 No, sir/^ 
 
 Got relatives there, perhaps/^ 
 
 No, sir; he has no relatives living, I believe. Peo- 
 ple's plazed to say, though, he^s often seen sittin on a 
 tombstone there in the ould graveyard. 
 
 Well, must be some friend, I guess. 
 
 Why, if the gentleman was a native o’ this part o^ 
 .the country, it might,^^ responded Mrs. Motherly, but 
 he^s not ; he was born in Cork.^^ 
 
 Does he never speak to you of these visits, Mrs. 
 Motherly ? ” 
 
 Niver, sir.^’ 
 
 You don^t say so ! IPs odd — ain^t it ? ” 
 
 0, it^s just of a piece with the rest of his doings,’^ 
 replied the good woman, opening, as usual, her budget 
 of grievances. He niver thinks of telling me any thing, 
 of coorse ; why should he ? I^m nothing but a sarvint, 
 ye know. Fm only here to do the work, slavin and 
 sludgin from mornin till night, strivin to plaze him and 
 humor him, till my hearths almost broke; and ail the 
 thanks I get is mighty easy told, Mr. Weeks. 
 
 Don’t doubt it. He’s a very odd kinder man in his 
 ways — that’s a fact.” 
 
 You may well say it, sir. He’s the provokinest 
 man ever drew breath. But won’t you light and come 
 in, sir ? ” 
 
 Well, guess I shall, come to think of it. Say, can’t 
 I write a note here, and leave it for Mr. Guirkie ? ” 
 
 Sartintly, sir ; come in ; there’s paper there, and pens 
 plenty in the parlor. As for the cratur on the sofa, he’ll 
 not disturb you in the lasfe.” 
 
 '' Hilloa ! who the thunder is this ? ” exclaimed Weeks, 
 as he entered the parlor, and beheld the African stretched 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 231 
 
 at his full length on the sofa, apparently fast asleep. 
 
 A nigger — ain^t he ? 
 
 Yes, sir ; that's our new boarder," primly replied 
 Mrs. Motherly. 
 
 But how in creation did he come here ? " 
 
 Mr. Guirkie, sir, carried the gentleman home with 
 him from the wreck." 
 
 Ah, that's it. I have heard of a wreck lately some- 
 where here in the neighborhood." 
 
 He's a very respectable boarder for a lone woman — 
 isn't he, Mr. Weeks ? " 
 
 Well, don't know exactly ; that's all a matter of taste. 
 Some folks like niggers very much. There's our New 
 England ladies, for instance ; they're terrible kind to 
 niggers. I'd venture to say, if this here chap happened 
 to be cast ashore any where along the eastern seaboard, 
 they'd gather round and clothe and feast him like a 
 prince, before he got well out of water." 
 
 You're jokin, Mr. Weeks." 
 
 '^No, mam, I ain't jokin a mite." 
 
 And ye tell me they're so fond of them as all 
 that?" 
 
 Fond ? yes — guess they are fond — they're the 
 most almighty fond creatures in that way in all cre- 
 ation." 
 
 Bedad, then, Mr. Weeks, I don't envy their taste." 
 
 Well, it ain't just that, either, for the fact is, they 
 despise niggers as much as any people in the world. 
 But it's a sorter philanthropy, you know, that's made 
 up of a half sentimental, half benevolent kinder squeam- 
 ishness, with a slight dash of the religious in it, by way 
 of seasoning." 
 
 ** Yes, sir, of coorse." 
 
 You understand me ? " 
 
 0, parfectly, sir. They must be mighty charitable 
 intirely, God bless them." 
 
 Very charitable indeed. That is, I mean to the 
 slave portion of the race. Sometimes their philanthropy 
 
232 
 
 MARY LEE, OR 
 
 impels them even to pawn their jewels to buy a slave 
 from bondage — it^s a fact/^ 
 
 See that now ! Isn^t it wondherful to think of it ? 
 And still I often heard Mr. Guirkie say the craturs out 
 there in America warn^t so badly off after all.” 
 
 Well, no — guess they^re pretty well off for clothes 
 and food, and all that sorter thing. But they hain^t 
 got their liberty, you know ; and no American born 
 ought to see a human in slavery and not try to liber- 
 ate him.” 
 
 True for you, Mr. Weeks ; you speak like a Chris- 
 tian, so you do. Dear knows it’s a poor sight to see 
 God’s craturs bought and sould, as they say they are 
 over there, just for all the world like a cow or a horse — 
 it’s onnatural.” 
 
 '' It’s shocking ! ” 
 
 And still,” said Mrs. Motherly, they tell us the 
 poor Irish there isn’t trated much better than slaves.” 
 
 The Irish ! My dear woman, don’t believe a word 
 of it.” 
 
 Why, I have a letther in my pocket here, from a 
 niece of mine, that’s livin in a place called Boston, and 
 she tells me it’s tarrible to think of what they suffer. 
 There it is,” continued .the good woman, opening it, and 
 pointing to a particular passage, which ran as follows : 
 
 ' We’re thrated here like slaves, and have more to 
 suffer from the Yankees, specially in regard to our re- 
 ligion, than ever we had at home from the bloody, par- 
 secutin English.’ It’s a wonder they’re not ashamed 
 to purfess so much tinderness for the slaves, and trate 
 the poor Irish so manely as that,” said Mrs. Moth- 
 erly. 
 
 My dear woman, you don’t understand the case. 
 It’s only the lower orders of our people do so.” 
 
 And why don’t the upper orders make them behave 
 better ? ” 
 
 Can’t do it. It’s a free country.” 
 
 0, bad luck to such freedom as that. I wudn’t give 
 ye a brass button for it. There’s my niece, as dacent a 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 233 
 
 reared little g“irl as ever crossed the water — 1^11 say that 
 much for her, though, she is my niece — and her mistress, 
 who's nothin after all but a shopkeeper's wife — may be 
 not as dacent a father and mother's child either, — and 
 the best word she has in her cheek for the cratur is the 
 ‘ Paddy girl,' and the ' Papist,' and the ' ignorant 
 booby,' and ^ go to the old priest — he'll forgive you 
 your sins for a ninepence.' What kind of talk is 
 that, Mr. Weeks ? " continued the good woman, rolling 
 up her arms in her apron, and looking at him. 
 
 Well, that ain't right, I allow." 
 
 Right — bedad, if the girls would do as I would, 
 they'd slap them in the face. And that’s what I told 
 Bridget in my last letter. Humph ! pretty thing, in- 
 deed ! because they pay their girls six or seven shillings 
 a week, they must have a right to insult and abuse them 
 into the bargain." 
 
 Very few think so, Mrs. Motherly, very few indeed. 
 I know many, very many families in New England, who 
 respect their help very much, and are as kind to them as 
 if they were relatives of the family." 
 
 To be sure you do, sir, and so Bridget says too, in 
 her letter here ; but they're respectable people. I mane 
 yer upsettin, half and between fine ladies, that think 
 they ought to take airs on themselves as soon as they 
 can afibrd to hire a girl to do their work — that's the 
 kind I mane." 
 
 ‘'Just so; that's all right enough — but still, Mrs. 
 Motherly, some of your girls are pretty spunky." 
 
 “ I don't doubt it, sir, in the laste, and may be there's 
 plenty of them desarves to be turned out of doors too 
 for their impudence. But can't all that be done with- 
 out casting up their religion and their priest to them ? 
 Ah, that's mane, sir, mane as dirt, to insult a poor girl 
 for her religion." 
 
 “ Well — as I hain't got many minutes to spare now, 
 Mrs. Motherly, let us put off this subject till another 
 time. So I'll just sit down here, if you hain't no objec- 
 20 * 
 
234 
 
 MAEY LEE, OB 
 
 tion, and write a note for Mr. Guirkie, which you'll 
 please hand him as soon as he returns. 
 
 Sartintly, Mr. Weeks, with the greatest pleasure in 
 life ; I hope Sambo here won^t disturb you, sir.^^ 
 
 Not in the least. He^s asleep — airiH he ? 
 
 So it seems ; and still it^s quare to see him asleep at 
 this hour. He was sittin up a minute or two before ye 
 came. I’ll see. Sambo ! Sambo ! wake up. There’s 
 not a stir in him, sir.” 
 
 Don’t mind him, Mrs. Motherly,” said Weeks., dip- 
 ping the pen in the ink. Don’t mind him.” 
 
 Well, I niver saw him asleep but he snored strong 
 enough to draw the sides of the house together. And 
 see now, he hardly seems to breathe. Sambo,” she 
 repeated, shaking him by the arm, — Sambo, wake 
 up ; here’s the gentleman you were asking about the 
 other day.” 
 
 About me ? ” 
 
 Yes, sir ; he started just as if he’d been shot, when 
 he saw you pass the window last week.” 
 
 Last week — why, I don’t remember to have seen or 
 heard any thing of him. I didn’t know you’d got a 
 nigger here till this minute.” 
 
 Well, he saw you, sir, any way, and looked as 
 frightened as if you came to drag him to the gal- 
 lows.” 
 
 Indeed ! Wake him up, and let’s see what he’s 
 like.” 
 
 Sambo ! hilloa. Sambo ! ” cried Mrs. Motherly, again 
 shaking him roughly by the arm ; look up, man, and 
 speak to us — he won’t though, not a budge he’ll do. 
 Bedad, Mr. Weeks, may be he’s dyin.” 
 
 Not he — the fellow’s coming possum over us, that’s 
 all ; but hold on a bit ; I’ll make him speak — bet a 
 fourpence ; ” and striking the African a smart rap on 
 the shin with his knuckles, the sleeper started up in an 
 instant to a sitting posture, and bellowed as if he had 
 been stabbed with a bayonet. 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 235 
 
 Shut up/^ said Weeks ; you ain^t murdered — are 
 you ? 
 
 0, Massa Charles, Massa Charles/^ cried the Afri- 
 can, rubbing the wounded part with his hand, ''you 
 know him place strike poor nigger/^ 
 
 " You see that,’^ observed Mrs. Motherly ; "he seems 
 to know you, sir.’^ 
 
 "Massa Charles — why, who the thunder are you 
 — eh ? 
 
 "0, golly, there, Massa Charles not know Sambo I 
 
 " What Sambo ? 
 
 " Why, Jubal Sambo — gosh ! that very sprizin ; many 
 time massa licked Sambo on old plantation.'^ 
 
 " Where ? " demanded Weeks, his words growing few 
 and faint as the negro's voice and features grew more 
 and more familiar to him. 
 
 Where ! yah, yah ! no remember Moose Creek, 
 old Virginny ? Massa Charles look him my back, 
 him know Sambo better ; ebery one knows him own 
 marks." 
 
 " Moose Creek ! — good Heavens ! there ! " exclaimed 
 Weeks ; " well, by crackle, if that ain't the most unex- 
 pected — " 
 
 " Yah, yah ! " chuckled the African, now that his shin 
 no longer troubled him. " Massa no spect see Sambo so 
 far from home. Sambo no fraid massa now. Sambo free 
 nigger — yah, yah ! " 
 
 " Mrs. Motherly," said Weeks, turning to the house- 
 keeper, who stood looking on apparently much inter- 
 ested in the conversation, " may I beg you to quit 
 the room for a moment ? I should like to say a few 
 words to this poor fellow — seems to me I have seen 
 him before." 
 
 " Indeed you have, sir. I'll warrant that," said Mrs. 
 Motherly, looking sharply at Weeks, now as pale as a 
 sheet of paper. "But sure if you have any thing in 
 private to say to him. I'll not prevent you. Strange how 
 people meets sometimes so far from home, and when 
 
236 
 
 MARY LEE, OR 
 
 they laste expect it; too. Ha, ha ! isnH it quare, Mr. 
 Weeks ? 
 
 Very much so indeed — but you’ll excuse me, Mrs. 
 Motherly.” 
 
 Sartintly, sir ; I was only just going to tell ye how 
 Mr. Guirkie, thravellin in America, once met with an 
 ould rival of his in the same way, that he thought was 
 dead twenty years before. It was the oddest thing in 
 the world. Him and Mr. Guirkie, it seems, in their 
 young days, were both courtin the same young lady ; 
 but, lo and behold you, she went off at last with the 
 other gentleman ; and then Mr. Guirkie made a vow 
 never to marry, seein he had no heart to give away, 
 for he loved the girl beyond all raison ; and indeed 
 to this very day he carries her picthur about him wher- 
 ever he goes. Well, he went across the seas to thravel, 
 thinkin to forget her among the strangers ; and what would 
 ye have of it, but after leaving the West Indies, and 
 landin in the States of America, the first face he knew 
 was that of his ould rival. There he was standing on 
 the quay right before him as he stepped ashore from the 
 vessel.” 
 
 </Yery strange, indeed,” assented Weeks- — very 
 remarkable circumstance — exceedingly so. But won’t 
 you allow me, Mrs. Motherly — ? ” 
 
 Sartintly, Mr. Weeks — sartintly, sir.” 
 
 Gosh, dat berry queer,” muttered Sambo. 
 
 What ? ” 
 
 Why, Massa Guirkie meetin him old ribal on de 
 wharf.” 
 
 How so, Sambo ? ” 
 
 ''Well, old Massa Talbot just say same ting. Moder 
 told me all about it long time ago. Massa walk on de 
 wharf, and dere comes him old ribal right out of de 
 ship afore him berry eyes, de man he tink was dead and 
 buried. De sight almost knock him blind.” 
 
 " Any thing else I can do for you, Mr. Weeks ? ” 
 
 " Nothing, Mrs. Motherly, nothing at present.” 
 
 " Well, then, I’ll leave you together, to settle your 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 237 
 
 own affairs ; only I would advise you, Mr. Weeks, before 
 I go, to caution this foolish fellow not to call you Massa 
 Charles any more, for the people of this wicked world 
 are always watchin and peepin into other people’s busi- 
 ness, ye know, and ten chances to one but they’d say 
 you weren’t the man you portended to be, at all, at all.” 
 So saying, Mrs. Motherly made her usual courtesy at the 
 door, and closed it behind her. 
 
238 
 
 MARY LEE, OR 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 Mr, Weeks treats himself to a Ride on a Rathlin Pony. — 
 
 Rs Consequences. — Kate takes him with her to Castle 
 
 Gregory. 
 
 During Mr. Weeks’s long and secret conference with 
 the negro, (for Mrs. Motherly was carefully excluded 
 from the room,) Hardwrinkle still remained closeted with 
 the officer of constabulary at Crohan House, devising 
 plans for the immediate committal of Randall Barry to 
 Lifford jail. A difficulty, however, presented itself, 
 which Hardwrinkle had entirely overlooked in his zeal 
 for the safety of the state — namely, the presence of 
 Captain Petersham, of Castle Gregory, who, as senior 
 magistrate of the barony, was very much in the habit of 
 taking such cases into his own hands, and disposing of 
 them according to his own peculiar views of the law 
 thereunto made and provided. Hardwrinkle, it appears, 
 in order to avoid unnecessary delay, was for having the 
 prisoner brought before himself, and committed forth- 
 with ; but the officer demurred on the ground that the 
 captain had already, in anticipation of Barry’s arrest, 
 given strict orders to have the young man brought before 
 himy and no other. Hardwrinkle denied Captain Peters- 
 ham’s right to issue such orders, inasmuch as the crime 
 charged against Barry was a capital offence, requiring 
 prompt and summary action by the nearest of her ma- 
 jesty’s justices of the peace, without distinction of rank. 
 Furthermore, he contended that Captain Petersham, from 
 his well-known disaffection to the government, and his 
 notorious opposition to its measures for the ameliora- 
 tion ” of Ireland, was neither a fit or proper person to 
 try the case at all. Still more, — he assured the officer 
 that the captain’s anxiety to take Barry into his own 
 hands was but the consequence of a secret determination 
 on his part to let the young rebel escape, if he could 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 239 
 
 possibly do so ; and, therefore, to trust such a man with 
 the case was virtually to defeat the law, and frustrate the 
 designs of the government. 
 
 These remonstrances, however, seemed to produce but 
 little effect on the police officer, who still persisted in his 
 determination of bringing the prisoner before the senior 
 magistrate as in duty bound — adding, by way of make- 
 weight, that he valued his life too highly to risk it by an 
 act of premeditated disobedience to the orders of such a 
 madman and fire-eater as Captain Tom Petersham, of 
 Castle Gregory. 
 
 At length, after various plans and schemes had been 
 proposed and rejected, it was finally agreed that nothing 
 could be done for the present, but that early on the follow- 
 ing morning Hardwrinkle should despatch his servants 
 post-haste to certain magistrates of the neighborhood, on 
 whose loyalty he could depend, requesting their presence 
 next day on the Petit Sessions bench, in order to neutral- 
 ize any efforts that might be made by Captain Petersham 
 to free the prisoner. In the mean time the barracks 
 should be well guarded, particularly through the night, 
 and every possible precaution taken against attempts at 
 rescue by the friends and abettors of the young outlaw. 
 With this understanding, the two zealous defenders of 
 church and state separated, each congratulating the other 
 on having secured at last the person of so dangerous and 
 malignant a traitor as Randall Barry. 
 
 Whilst the above consultation was going on, Weeks . 
 had quite recovered from his consternation on recogniz- 
 ing the negro in Mr. Guirkie^s parlor, and, after leaving 
 his message with Mrs. Motherly, was now proceeding on 
 his way to Castle Gregory, looking as grave and composed 
 as if nothing had occurred to disturb his equanimity. 
 
 The animal on which he rode — we have said already 
 — was by no means remarkable either for his beauty of 
 shape or swiftness of foot, and so low withal that his 
 rider^s boots almost touched the ground as he jogged 
 along. Still, though a mere pony, he was remarkably 
 thick set and stout, and looked strong enough to carry a 
 
240 
 
 MARY LEE, OR 
 
 much heavier load, if he only made up his mind to do it. 
 We add this saving clause, because the little fellow 
 happened to belong to the species of horse called the 
 ^^Eahery or Kathlin breed,^^ well known in the north of 
 Ireland, and famous not only for its great strength, but 
 its inveterate habit of resisting all attempts at coercion ; 
 so that as wrong-headed as a Rahery had long become 
 a common expression throughout the province. 
 
 Mr. Weeks, when he first took a notion to try the 
 horse for a morning’s ride, was cautioned by his Orphan 
 friends not to trust him too far. Rebecca, especially, took 
 great pains to acquaint her good cousin with the pony’s 
 bad habits, and to put him on his guard. But Weeks, 
 confident of his superior horsemanship, and anxious to 
 verify the truth of his favorite saying, "'that no living 
 critter could come it over him,” would listen neither to 
 advice nor caution. 
 
 The little Rahery, as we have before observed, being 
 neither fast nor handsome, and having little therefore to 
 feel proud of, contented himself with trotting along in 
 his own quiet way, without the least pretension in the 
 world, and caring just as little for the opinions of his 
 neighbors as he did for the spurs of his rider. 
 
 Notwithstanding all our hero’s boasting, however, it 
 was quite evident he knew little how to govern the horse 
 he rode just then, whatever he might have been able to 
 do at home in New England ; for he kept tugging at the 
 reins and pricking the creature’s sides with a constant 
 uniform motion, as if the double movement of hand and 
 heel constituted an essential part of the exercise. 
 Whether the gruff, bull-headed little brute felt he had 
 a greenhorn on his back, or whether he resolved to 
 hold the even tenor of his way ” despite bridle and spur, 
 is difficult to tell. But certain it is, Mr. Weeks’s efforts 
 seemed to mend the matter but very little. In this 
 fashion he managed to dodge along for a mile or two, 
 his legs swinging to and fro under the horse’s belly, and 
 his left hand jerking the bridle at every step ; when all 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 241 
 
 of a sudden the pony came to a dead halt, and absolutely 
 refused to proceed another inch in that direction. 
 
 Mr. Weeks, who had ridden the horse half a dozen 
 times before, and never had any difficulty with him, felt 
 rather surprised at his conduct, and took good care to 
 express himself accordingly, both in word and deed. 
 After spurring for a while without any effect, it occurred 
 to him the saddle gear might have got out of place, and 
 he instantly dismounted to examine. But to his great 
 disappointment he found himself mistaken. Every thing 
 was exactly where it ought to be. Taking the reins 
 then, he tried to lead the pony past the spot ; but the 
 pony decidedly refused to lift a foot. It was very pro- 
 voking to Mr. Weeks, to find himself there on the 
 public highway, beating and shouting at the perverse 
 little animal, and every body laughing at him as they 
 passed by. It was unpleasant, to say the least of it, 
 and Mr. Weeks, as might be expected, felt very uncom- 
 fortable indeed. At length, when he tried and tried in 
 vain, and saw no likelihood of succeeding by ordinary 
 means, he drew a knife from his pocket, cut a stout ash 
 sapling from a tree by the road-side, and then remounting, 
 laid on the pony with might and main, determined, if he 
 still refused to proceed, it shouldnft be for want of 
 urging. The animal, finding matters growing serious, 
 but resolved, notwithstanding, to have his own way, now 
 took the bridle bit between his teeth, and poking down his 
 head, wheeled round, and started off to Crohan House at 
 full gallop. Weeks, unable to manage the sapling any 
 longer, threw it from him, and seized the reins with both 
 hands to haul him up ; but alas I he might as well have 
 seized the horns of a buffalo : on drove the headstrong 
 little Rahery at the top of his speed, and apparently with 
 as much ease as if he carried a child on his back. 
 
 ''Hoa! hoa ! shouted Weeks; hoa, ye darned 
 critter. 
 
 The pony, unaccustomed to the Yankee manner of 
 address, mistook it probably for a command to go the 
 faster, and on he drove accordingly. 
 
 21 
 
242 
 
 .MARY LEE, OR 
 
 TarDation to ye ! cried Weeks, as his hat flew off, 
 and his long sandy hair floated back on the breeze. 
 
 Tarnation to ye ! hain^t ye got no mouth on ye nor 
 nothing ? hoa, there, hoa ! I say. 0 merciful Heavens 1 
 such a country ! 
 
 At this moment, a party of ladies and gentlemen, some 
 five or six in number, came riding up, meeting him at a 
 smart trot, and Weeks, seeing their approach, motioned 
 them to stop his horse. One of the riders crossed the 
 road for that purpose, and waved his handkerchief ; but 
 the mischievous animal, on seeing his way blocked up, 
 instead of coming to a sudden halt, wheeled off sideways, 
 and ran, or rather tumbled, down a steep bank by the 
 road-side, right into a farmer’s kitchen, with the rider’s 
 arms clasped round his neck. The blind impetuosity 
 with which the pony drove on, and the nearness of the 
 house, left him no time to choose ; so that rider and 
 horse were both in the man’s house before they knew it. 
 Then came the catastrophe ; for the pony, unable to stop 
 his speed down the bank, not only passed through the 
 door with resistless force, but came full tilt against the 
 dresser,” which stood opposite, breaking at a single 
 crash every article of delft on its shelves, and confound- 
 ing man, horse, and dishes in one common disaster. 
 
 The confusion which followed was amusing. The 
 man’s wife ran out with a child in her arms, screaming 
 murder and robbery — half a dozen little boys and girls 
 ran after her, yelling and crying for help — the pony 
 backed out after doing the mischief, and scampered off to 
 his manger — and the owner of the house made his 
 appearance in his shirt sleeves with a pitchfork in his 
 hand, swearing all sorts of instant vengeance against 
 the murdherin ” villain in the kitchen. 
 
 Stop, stop, my good fellow,” exclaimed one of the 
 party on horseback, who, seeing how matters stood, had 
 dismounted and arrested the weapon. ''Stop — this is 
 a mere accident, my good man.” 
 
 "Away — out i’ my road,” shouted the farmer. 
 "Stand off, and let me at him this minute, or by — ” 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 243 
 
 But here he paused and swallowed the oath, for on 
 looking over his shoulder he found himself in the hands 
 of Captain Petersham. 
 
 I beg yer honoris pardon, sir, but I’ll have his 
 life.” 
 
 Silence I ” commanded the captain. 
 
 I can’t, sir ; look at the wrack he made, the mur- 
 dherin villain ! I’ll brain him this minute. I’ll smash — ” 
 
 Listen to me, sir.” 
 
 Flesh and blood cudn’t stan it, captain.” 
 
 Stop this instant, or I’ll horsewhip you within an 
 inch of your life.” 
 
 The thievin vagabond I where is he ? till I knock 
 saucepans out of him.” 
 
 Will you not listen to me, you dog ? ” 
 
 ^'The bloody cutthroat. I’ll have his life.” 
 
 Robert, ho there, Robert, hand the reins to Mr. 
 Whately. Quick, sir; and you, Mr. Johnson, help him 
 to gag this blundering fool, while I go in and see what 
 the matter is.” 
 
 Bekase he’s one i’ the quality, he has lave to do 
 what he lakes ; but I’ll tache him the difference.” 
 
 Who is he, Mr. Whately ? ” inquired one of the 
 ladies, whose horse kept prancing in front of the door. 
 
 Is the unfortunate man of this neighborhood ? ” de- 
 manded another. 
 
 ''Is he much hurt ? ” said a third, addressing the farm- 
 er’s wife, who was now making her way through the 
 crowd of horses, with the child still in her arms. 
 
 " How can I tell yer ladyship whether he’s hurt or not ? 
 But the sorra’s cure to him any way, the dirty gomeril — 
 to smash our bits o’ plenishin, that I bought only last 
 week in Francy McGarvey’s with the dribs i’ money I 
 earned hard with my own four bones. Bad luck to him 
 every day he rises.” 
 
 By this time Captain Petersham succeeded in making 
 his way through the kitchen over broken plates and 
 dishes, and there found the hero of the tragedy with his 
 
244 
 
 MAKY LEE, OR 
 
 hands thrust down into his breeches pocket, standing in 
 the midst of the ruins he had made. 
 
 '' What^s the damage, major ? said the Yankee, shak- 
 ing up the silver, as the captain approached him; '^what^s 
 the damage ? Fll foot the bill. Scissors ! such a coun- 
 try ! he muttered to himself. 0, if I were only once 
 — say, what^s the damage ? 
 
 Damage ? * 
 
 ''Yes — hold on, though; you ain^t boss of the shan- 
 ty, — are you ? ’’ 
 
 " I, no, sir. Why, my Heavens ! is this you ? 
 
 " Well, yes, I guess Pm that particular individual. 
 
 " Mr. Weeks of Drakesville, eh ? ’’ 
 
 "No, sir, it ainH — Ducksville, if you please.^' 
 
 "Yes, yes, I recollect — Ducksville. Pm really very 
 sorry, Mr. Weeks. Upon my honor, my dear fellow. Pm 
 exceedingly sorry. 
 
 " Why, who the thunder are you ? Hold on. As I 
 live. Captain Petersham, of Castle Gregory ! How do, 
 captain ? Glad to see you. Got into a kinder snarl 
 here.^^ 
 
 " Ha, ha ! you’re not accustomed to our Irish horses 
 yet,” observed the captain, laughing. " Got hurt, eh ? ” 
 
 "No, sir, not a mite — got my coat torn and lost my 
 hat — that’s all.” 
 
 " Well, never mind — it might have been worse. 
 Come, I’ve a horse at the door to carry you to Castle 
 Gregory. You’ll dine with us, of course.” 
 
 " Well, the fact is, I was a-going there when this con- 
 founded accident happened.” 
 
 " Thank you. Come then. I’ll settle all this for you 
 to-morix)w.” 
 
 Whilst the foregoing colloquy was taking place, the 
 owner of the house had been gradually quieted down by 
 the captain’s friends outside, and the captain himself had 
 succeeded in leading Mr. Weeks to the door, where his 
 servant’s horse awaited him to mount. As the latter, 
 ashamed and discomfited, slowly advanced and looked 
 up, he felt " kinder uncomfortable,” to use one of his 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 245 
 
 own phrases, at seeing so many eyes fixed on him. But 
 the confusion lasted only a moment, for, like his country- 
 men, Mr. Weekses recuperative powers were always at 
 hand. 
 
 Ladies and gentlemen, said the captain, by way of 
 a passing introduction, this is Mr. Drake, of Weeks- 
 ville, Connecticut, United — 
 
 Mr. Weeks, if you please — and the speaker drew 
 forth a card from his silver case, and presented it respect- 
 fully to his friend. '^My name, sir, you will perceive, is 
 Weeks — Ephraim C. B. Weeks, Ducksville, Connecticut, 
 United States. 
 
 Just so, Mr. Weeks. Excuse me, my dear fellow; 
 I^m the most confounded blunderer imaginable. Hang 
 it, I^m always blundering about that name some how, 
 and can’t tell how it happens.” 
 
 Never mind the name, Mr. Weeks,” said one of the 
 ladies on horseback ; mount this horse here, and come 
 with us to Castle Gregory ; ” and the speaker, touching 
 the spirited animal she rode on the flank with her riding 
 whip, broke through the crowd, and prancing up to the 
 door, stretched out her hand to the American ; come, 
 sir ; I’ve been long wishing to see you ; and now you 
 and I must ride together and have a chat in advance of 
 the party.” 
 
 '' Who is she, captain ? ” whispered Weeks, after he 
 had touched the lady’s hand. 
 
 That’s my sister — Kate Petersham.” 
 
 You don’t say ! ” 
 
 Never saw her before, I presume.” 
 
 No — often heard of her, though. Kinder smart, 
 ain’t she ? ” 
 
 Yes, sometimes — when she takes the notion.” 
 
 She looks sorter spry — rides well, 1 guess.” 
 
 '' Yes ; does pretty fair at a fox hunt. Like to cross 
 a ditch or two with her, eh ? You can have any of my 
 horses you please.” 
 
 No, I thank you : I should rather not at present. 
 
 21 * 
 
246 
 
 MAKY LEE, OR 
 
 That^s a pretty piece of horse flesh she rides — ain^t 
 itr^ 
 
 Yes, sir ; that^s the best mare of her inches in the 
 province of Ulster. 1^11 back her against any thing of 
 her age and weight in Ireland, for a thousand. 
 
 Should like to own the critter. 
 
 Can’t, sir ; Kate would as soon part with her right 
 hand as part with ^ Moll Pitcher.’ See how she dances, 
 the wild creature — she’s mad to get off.” 
 
 What detains you, Mr. Weeks ? ” cried Kate. 
 
 Excuse me, madam, for a moment ; I’ll be with you 
 presently.” 
 
 ''Make haste then,” urged the captain; ‘'the lady 
 will feel quite offended if you keep her waiting.” 
 
 *' Here, my good woman,” said Weeks, taking a couple 
 of sovereigns from his purse, and handing them to the 
 farmer’s wife; "here, take these, and replenish your 
 shelves.” 
 
 "You seem to be in a great hurry to repair the dam- 
 age,” observed the captain. 
 
 " Well, I guess it’s just as well — ain’t it ? ’’ 
 
 " To-morrow had been time enough.” 
 
 " To-morrow. By jingo, I shouldn’t wonder if that 
 crazy coon, her husband, had my life before half the 
 time. These countrymen of yours, captain, ain’t to be 
 trusted.” 
 
 " Ha, ha ! I see you’re not acquainted yet with the 
 disposition of the Irish.” 
 
 " Ain’t I, though ? Well, I rather guess I am some. 
 By crackle, if I ain’t, for my short time amongst them, 
 I don’t know who is. Say, my good woman, hain’t you 
 got a hat. I could have for a day or so ? Fly round and 
 see if you can find one.” 
 
 " Mr. Weeks, Mr. Weeks,” cried Kate again — "here 
 I am waiting for you all this time, and Moll Pitcher so 
 restive that I can hardly manage her.” 
 
 " Never mind the hat,” said the captain, dragging 
 Weeks by the arm — "never mind it now; we’ll pick 
 up your own on the road.” 
 
HE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 247 
 
 Hold on a second — hurry up, my good woman ; let 
 me have something to cover my head. Hilloa ! what’s 
 that ? ” he demanded, as she handed him a rabbit-skin 
 cap. What the thunder is this ? Hain’t I seen that 
 . cap before ? ” 
 
 No matter ; put it on,” entreated the captain, im- 
 patiently, and let’s be off.” 
 
 Wait a minute — what’s this in the bottom of it, eh ? 
 — a letter, I swonnie it is, — and to Miss Kate Peters- 
 ham, too. Why, how’s this ? ’•’ 
 
 Who owns the cap ? ” demanded the captain. 
 
 I own it,” said a new comer, issuing from a door of 
 a little room behind the dresser. I own it, sir.” 
 
 '‘Lanty Hanlon ! ” 
 
 Let me have the cap, sir — here’s one to replace it,” 
 said Lanty, handing Weeks another of nearly the same 
 description, and taking his own without the least cere- 
 mony from the hands of the astonished Yankee. 
 
 Well there ! — say, captain, can you tell me how 
 many duplicates of this individual are to be found in the 
 deestrict, or, in other words, is he really the old gentle- 
 man himself ? ” 
 
 Lanty Hanlon, how came you by this letter ? ” 
 
 Don’t trouble yourself about it, captain,” replied 
 Kate ; it’s only a love letter. Hand it here, Lanty. 
 I’ll meet you at the place you know, this evening. Be 
 punctual now, or I’ll discard you.” 
 
 Niver fear, my lady ; I’ll be there ; but mind, if you 
 don’t be up to time yourself, we must break the engage- 
 ment.” And throwing the cap carelessly on his head, 
 he disappeared as he came. 
 
 '' I see, captain, you know that fellow.” 
 
 0, yes ; I have known Lanty for years.” 
 
 Well, he’s a tarnation villain ; let me tell you 
 that.” 
 
 Lanty — ha ! ha ! 0, no, he’s not a bad fellow. Fond 
 of playing tricks, that’s all.” 
 
 Tricks — he’s the darnedest rascal unhung.” 
 
 Weeks now mounted the groom’s horse, which proved 
 
248 
 
 MARY LEE, OR 
 
 to be a gentle, well-disposed animal ; and with the cap- 
 tain on one side and Kate on the other, rode in front 
 of the procession, his rabbit-skin cap jantily set on the 
 side of his head, and his hands and feet jerking and 
 swinging as before, to the no small amusement of the 
 party. 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 249 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 Uncle Jerry and the Three Twins . — A Surprise. 
 
 The reader will remember that Mrs. Motherly had a 
 strong objection to Mr. Guirkie’s carrying his purse 
 with him, whenever she suspected him of going to visit 
 the blind fiddler at the Cairn, or the widow with the 
 three twins, at Ballymastocker. She insisted it was 
 her duty to search his pockets on such occasions, and he 
 permitted her to do so, with all the docility of a child, 
 save and except when a third party happened to be pres- 
 ent ; then he drew himself up, and proclaimed his inde- 
 pendence both by word and look, but so ostentatiously 
 withal, that any one with the slightest discrimination 
 might have seen it was only the advantage the coward 
 takes, when he unexpectedly finds help at his back. Un- 
 cle Jerry was, we must .admit, rather peculiar in the ex- 
 ercise of his benevolence, or, as Mrs. Motherly used to 
 say, very odd in his ways. It was not exactly because 
 Batt Curley of the Cairn was destitute of the ordinary 
 means of living, that he took such a 'kindly interest in 
 him, for Batt always earned enough to eat and drink by 
 his fiddle, hard as the times were f it was because he 
 was old and blind, and only a fiddler at that. So also 
 with respect to the widow and the ''three twins, at 
 Ballymastocker ; there was nothing very lamentable in 
 her case either ; but the thought of a poor lone woman, 
 with three children born at a birth to take care of, so 
 fixed itself about his heart, that he found it impossible to 
 banish it. And it was only because the case of the ne- 
 gro had something peculiar in it, his sympathy was so 
 suddenly excited in his favor. Had the doctor told him 
 the negroes arms had been broken, he would have felt for 
 the poor sufferer, no doubt, as he felt for everybody in 
 distress ; but to have all his toes broken and disjointed, 
 was something dreadful to think of. A poor African 
 
250 
 
 MAKY LEE, OR 
 
 wounded in this manner touched the tenderest sympa- 
 thies of his generous soul. 
 
 The reader must not imagine for a moment, notwith- 
 standing all we have* said, that Uncle Jerry^s fancy had 
 more to do with his benevolence than his heart. No such 
 thing ; fancy was only the angel of light that stood by, 
 while charity, the first born of the Redeemer's love, drew 
 the picture of human sorrow, and held it up before him. 
 Christian Charity, loveliest of virtues ! when the Saviour, 
 who gave you in triumph to the world, first presented 
 you on Calvary, how beautiful you were then ! When, 
 taking you by the hand, he led you up the hill, and point- 
 ing to the Sun of Christianity just beginning to rise, bade 
 you go forth to bless and bind all hearts together, till the 
 light of that Sun should again be absorbed in the source 
 of its life forevermore, — how modest your blushing face, 
 and how timid your noiseless step, as you then came out 
 from the darkness of paganism, to weave your web of 
 love round the great heart of regenerated humanity-! 
 You had worshippers in those days to fall in millions at 
 your feet ; but where are they now ? Alas, alas ! like 
 the deserted king of Greece, looking round the Bay of 
 Salamis for his scattered ships, — 
 
 “You counted them at break of day. 
 
 But when the sun set where were they ? ” 
 
 The goddess of Charity whom men worship now, how 
 unlike thee she is ! Bold and proud, she walks with 
 stately step, and shuns the lowly cabin on her way to 
 princely halls. She extends no friendly hand to the help- 
 less and houseless in the darkness of night, hut waits 
 for the broad glare of noonday, to carry her gifts to the 
 market place. She stalks along the public thoroughfares 
 in wanton attire, surrounded by followers whom she at- 
 tracts by the splendor of her garments and the stateli- 
 ness of her mien. She sets herself up as thy rival, mod- 
 est, blushing child of God. In the flaunting dress of the 
 courtesan, she disputes thy empire over the hearts of 
 
THE YANKEE IN IKELAND. 
 
 251 
 
 men ; and, alas that we must confess it ! she gains the 
 victory. 
 
 But, dear reader, fallen as the world is, there are some 
 true hearts to be found in it still ; some who, like Uncle 
 Jerry, will steal away into, obscure places to comfort 
 the poor, and blush like him to be caught in the act. So 
 was it now. 
 
 It appears that Mr. Guirkie, instead of going directly to 
 Rathmullen, on his weekly visit to the old churchyard, as 
 Mrs. Motherl}’^ had supposed, fell in with the priest, on 
 his way to visit the widow with the three twins, at 
 Ballymastocker, who was taken suddenly ill, and instant- 
 ly resolved to accompany him to the house. 
 
 As Captain Petersham, with his party, Yode along, two 
 horses, standing at the widow^s door, attracted his atten- 
 tion ; and on coming up, he recognized them as Father 
 John^s and Mr. Guirkie^s, At once he made up his mind 
 to invite the two friends to Castle Gregory, and accord- 
 ingly dismounted for that purpose. 
 
 On entering the humble dwelling of the widow, or 
 rather as he stepped on the threshold, a sight met his 
 view which caused him instantly to draw back. Uncle 
 Jerry was sitting near the fireplace, with his back to the 
 door, and so intent at his occupation, that he neither 
 heard the captain^s footstep, nor observed the shadow his 
 person cast upon the wall as he came in. The latter, 
 as the reader knows already, was a blunt, outspoken, 
 honest-hearted, rollicking country-gentleman of the old 
 school, and Kate, knowing his ways so well, had been 
 expecting every instant to hear his voice in high banter 
 with Uncle Jerry ; but, instead of that, she was rather 
 surprised to see him steal out again on tiptoe, with his 
 hands raised up in wonder, as if at something he had 
 witnessed within. 
 
 WhaPs the matter, captain ? she demanded; ^Ms 
 the widow dead ? 
 
 ''Not that I know of; but such a sight as that I 
 haven^t seen for years — come down and behold it with 
 
252 
 
 MARY LEE, OR 
 
 your own eyes ; and lifting her from the saddle, he 
 escorted her to the door of the cabin. 
 
 Mr. Weeks and the other gentlemen of the party, hear- 
 ing the captain^s words, were instantly excited by a 
 natural curiosity to see what was going on, and alighted 
 also. 
 
 Uncle Jerry was still intent on his work. He was 
 rocking a cradle of more than ordinary proportions, made 
 of coarse wicker-work, in which the three twins were 
 soundly sleeping. On a low stool beside him lay his 
 pocket handkerchief, which he had been using when the 
 captain first saw him, and had only laid down as the party 
 came crowding round the door. 
 
 Gentlemen,"'^ said Kate, turning to her friends and 
 whispering her words low, I beg you^ll retire. This is 
 no fitting scene for profane eyes like yours. Away, and 
 leave the captain and me to speak to him.^^ 
 
 They did as directed ; and then Kate, motioning the 
 latter to keep his place, stepped across the earthen floor 
 with the lightness of a bird, and stood behind the watcher. 
 She was about to touch him on the shoulder with her 
 finger to make him aware of her presence, but drew it 
 suddenly back again, and waited a minute longer. 
 
 In that short minute Uncle Jerry had laid open his 
 whole heart to her. She could read it as plainly as a 
 book. Inserting his hand into the lining of his great seal- 
 skin cap, he drew forth from a secret pocket, which Mrs. 
 Motherly had failed to discover, a Bank of Ireland note, 
 and rolling it up into convenient shape, took the hand 
 of one of the orphans, and wove it in between its fingers. 
 As he did so, a big tear dropped on the hand, and Uncle 
 Jerry took up his handkerchief to wipe it off. 
 
 ** Hold I said Kate; ^^let it remain there, to conse- 
 crate the offering.^' 
 
 God bless me I ’’ exclaimed Mr. Guirkie, looking up 
 with his eyes still full. Why, I thought I was alone. 
 
 '' And if you were,’^ replied Kate, hardly able to re- 
 strain her own tears, the lesson had been lost.^^ 
 
 What lesson ? 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 263 
 
 That/^ said she, pointing to the child^s hand holding 
 the money, with the mercy drop glistening on it. 
 
 ‘' Why, upon ray word and honor, Kate,^^ said Uncle 
 Jerry, wiping his tears, " I don^t know how it is, but the 
 smoke of the peat fire affects my eyes more than ever — 
 perhaps iUs because Um growing older. 
 
 Kate took his hand and pressed it lovingly in hers. 
 " God bless you,^^ she said. " I never see you but I feel 
 my heart growing better. If charity and faith ever dwell 
 in human bosoms, they are surely to be. found in yours. 
 But tell me, where is Father John ? 
 
 Uncle Jerry pointed to the room. 
 
 " Has he finished ? 
 
 "Yes — you may go in.^^ 
 
 Kate opened the door gently, but seeing Father John 
 kneeling by the bedside of his penitent, closed it again. 
 
 " Come in,^^ said the priest, turning his head a little, 
 and seeing her form as she opened the door ; " come in, 
 Miss Petersham ; and as I administer the sacrament of 
 the body and blood of the Kedeerner to this poor dying 
 creature, beg of him, by the love he bore you in the in- 
 stitution of this adorable mystery of the eucharist, to con- 
 vert you to the true and living faith. 
 
 Kate fell upon her knees. 
 
 " God of love/^ said the priest, prostrate before the 
 open pix, " if ever I have done aught to deserve a blessing 
 at thy hands, I now implore thee to touch the heart of 
 this erring child. Breathe into her soul the spirit that 
 quickeneth unto life, that she may one day feel how good 
 thou art, and how inestimable a treasure she possesses in 
 the sacrament of thy love. And thou, 0 Mary, Mother 
 of God, pray for her, that she may soon break asunder 
 those earthly ties that hold her back from the arms of the 
 church of Christ stretched out to embrace her.^^ 
 
 He then rose and administered the viaticum to the 
 dying woman, afterwards the sacrament of extreme unc- 
 tion, and, kneeling once more by her bedside, recom- 
 mended her soul fervently to the God who gave it. 
 
 As he turned to quit the room, Kate looked up in his 
 22 
 
254 
 
 MARY LEE, OR 
 
 face, her cheeks flushed with the emotions of her hpart. 
 
 Father, she cried, still kneeling before him, ^'father, 
 give me thy hand ; and kissing it, she placed it on her 
 head, and asked his blessing. 
 
 He gave it from the depth of his heart. Then Kate 
 rose, and silently accompanied her two friends to the 
 door, where the party impatiently awaited their coming. 
 
 The captain, who had been a silent witness of the 
 whole scene, touched his cap respectfully as the priest 
 appeared, and silently mounting his horse, rode off with 
 his friends to Castle Gregory. 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 265 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 Mr. Weeks professes Washingtonian Principles^ hut is in- 
 ducedy notwithstanding^ to taste Whiskey Punch. — Its 
 wonderful Effects. 
 
 Mr. Weeks/^ said Captain Petersham, after dinner 
 was over and the cloth removed, ^^Pm delighted to see 
 you at Castle Gregory ; and now, as the ladies have left 
 us, we must drink a glass of stout Innishowen together. 
 Mr. Johnson, shove down the decanter to our American 
 friend. 
 
 Excuse me, captain,^^ said Weeks ; I never drink. 
 
 Nonsense ! you must drink. By George, thaPs a 
 pretty thing ! not drink, indeed I why, you’re not a tee- 
 totaler, are you ? ” 
 
 Well, pretty much. I’m a Washingtonian.” 
 
 Of course you are — I know all that. But you don’t 
 mean to say that every Washingtonian ’s a temperance 
 man ? ” 
 
 You mistake, I reckon,” said Weeks. A Washing- 
 tonian don’t mean an American, exactly, but a member 
 of a certain temperance society.” 
 
 0, I see — that’s the meaning of it. So you belong 
 to a temperance society, then ! Well, ’pon my honor, 
 friend Weeks, I had formed a better opinion of you.” 
 
 Don’t think it wrong to take a pledge against liquor, 
 do you ? ” 
 
 "'No — not perhaps for the working classes — but I 
 think no gentleman . should take it. If a sense of his 
 position, and respect for his honor, don’t restrain a gen- 
 tleman from brutalizing himself, then I say he’s no gentle- 
 man, and no pledge or oath can bind him. What think 
 you. Father John ? ” 
 
 " You’re right, captain ; except in those rare instances 
 when gentlemen regard excess as a sin against God ; in 
 
256 
 
 MAEY LEE, OR 
 
 such cases a pledge may restrain them when their honor 
 can^t. Perhaps Mr. Weeks is one of this class. 
 
 How — regard intoxication as a sin against God ? 
 
 ^^Yes — for which he, one day, will bring you to ac- 
 count.^^ 
 
 Well, as to that,^^ replied Weeks, I reckon it de- 
 pends materially on the kinder notions one has formed 
 on that ere point. Folks differ, you know, considerable 
 about the sorter being God is ; and, as for myself, I can^t 
 say I ever got well posted up on the subject. But I 
 always maintained that the abuse of liquor was a sin 
 against society. 
 
 '' Of course — there never was a second opinion about 
 that.^^ 
 
 And I always set my face against it on that account. 
 
 Precisely ; you adopted the prevailing sentiment 
 — for I can call it by no other name — that the abuse 
 of liquor should be discouraged, not because iPs offen- 
 sive to God and injurious to the soul, but because it^s 
 offensive to society — to modest eyes and ears polite. 
 
 '^Father John, take my advice, and drop the argu- 
 ment, said the captain, or youJl be head and ears into 
 one of your long sermons directly. Mr. Weeks, don^t 
 mind him — he^s forever moralizing. Come, fill your 
 glass like an honest man, and drink your national toast — 
 ^ Success to the stars and stripes.^ 
 
 Don^t drink, I assure you, captain. Should be most 
 happy to oblige you, but iPs against my principles. 
 
 Against the ! against a man^s principles to drink 
 
 a glass of punch at a friend^s table ! 
 
 Don^t urge the gentleman,^^ said two or three of the 
 company — don^t, sir ; he has scruples about it. Every 
 man should know what suits himself best.^^ 
 
 '' Nonsense 1 I can^t bear to look at a guest sitting at 
 my table as dry as a stick. 
 
 '' Well, to please you, Pll taste something,^^ said 
 Weeks, at last; though iPs against my principles to 
 drink. Mr. Johnson, have the goodness to make me a 
 spoonful or two of sangaree.’^ 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 257 
 
 '' Sangaree. Ha, ha, ha ! laughed the captain. Not 
 a drop of it, Johnson — not a drop ; make him a glass of 
 whiskey punch. Or, stop — send it up to me ; Til make 
 it myself. 
 
 '' No, no — hold on, captain ; excuse me,^^ said 
 Weeks, intercepting the decanter on its way to the head 
 of the table ; excuse me ; Fd rather not ; Mr. Johnson 
 will make it.’^ 
 
 ‘'Why, it seems so strange — Whately, could you 
 have imagined it? a freeman, a citizen of the model 
 republic, and neither Presbyterian nor Quaker, to belong 
 to a temperance society. Ha, ha! it^s monstrous I — it 
 shocks all my American prepossessions.^^ 
 
 Weeks smiled in his usual cold way, and assured the 
 captain the " Sons of Temperance were very numerous 
 in the States ; and that, for his part, he had been strictly 
 temperate since he was fifteen years old. 
 
 " And, pray, Mr. Weeks, said the captain, filling his 
 glass from the tumbler, " what pleasure or advantage 
 can you derive from this self-denial you practise — it^s 
 not for your sins, I suspect — eh ? 
 
 " No, sir ; don^t believe in that doctrine. 
 
 " And why the mischief do you abstain, then ? 
 
 " W'hy, because it suits my constitution best, and 
 saves my pocket besides. 
 
 " 0, that indeed ; I understand you now.^^ 
 
 " Two excellent motives — ain^t they, captain ? 
 
 "You must ask Father Brennan, sir ; that question 
 involves a knowledge of morals of which I profess to be 
 entirely ignorant. What say you. Father John? will his 
 motives stand the test of your theolog^^ ? ^^ 
 
 Father John shook his head, but said nothing in reply. 
 
 " Well, look here,^^ pursued Weeks, turning to the 
 priest. " I ain’t a-goin to dispute the matter now ; but 
 just multiply fourteen years (the time I’ve been temperate) 
 by three hundred and sixty-five dollars saved each year, 
 — and that’s about the lowest estimate I can make, — 
 and you have precisely five thousand one hundred and ten 
 22 * 
 
258 
 
 MAKY LEE, OR 
 
 dollars, exclusive of interest. Now I call that a saving. 
 I may be mistaken, but I call it a saving. 
 
 Not a doubt of it,^^ replied the priest, smiling — 
 not a doubt of it; you calculate very closely, though 
 — don^t you ? 
 
 "'Well, no, sir; I merely follow Cousin Nathan^s 
 advice, and don^t waste my powder. I had a cousin 
 once called Nathan Bigelow — 
 
 ''There,^^ ejaculated Uncle Jerry, lajnng down his 
 glass untasted, and rising from the table ; there ! he^s 
 at Nathan again. I vow and declare I can^t stand it — 
 this is the fifth time.^^ 
 
 What^s the matter, Mr. Guirkie ? inquired the 
 captain. 
 
 Nothing very particular,’^ replied Uncle Jerry, making 
 his way out ; I’ll return presently.” 
 
 Well, this cousin of mine,” continued Weeks, this 
 cousin called Nathan — ” 
 
 0, he’s the man used to preside at town meetings, 
 direct the minister what to preach, and so forth. Yes, 
 yes, you needn’t mind ; we have heard of him.” 
 
 '' Have, eh ? ” 
 
 Yes ; he’s quite familiar to us.” 
 
 Well, I was only going to say that I merely followed 
 his advice. And now, with regard to my second motive, 
 I found, when about fifteen years of age, or thereaways, 
 that liquor proved a leetle too exciting for my constitu- 
 tion, both mentally and physically.” 
 
 Ah, indeed,” said the priest ; how so, pray ? ” 
 
 Well, it softened my heart a leetle more than I found 
 convenient.” 
 
 You drank too freely, perhaps, for a boy of your 
 age ? ” 
 
 Well, guess I did — rather; can’t say I got drunk, 
 though — got tight once in a while. But the darned 
 thing used to draw a sorter skin over my eyes, that I 
 couldn’t see clearly what I was about.” 
 
 Hence you gave it up ? ” 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 259 
 
 “ Yes. You^d like to know, perhaps, how it came 
 round ? 
 
 '' Certainly — let^s hear it, by all means. 
 
 Well, it was kinder funny, too. Father sent me one 
 morning, when I was about fifteen or a little over, to a 
 place called Meriden, with chickens and squash for the 
 market. It happened I took a young colt with me 
 father bought short time before, and he was a smasher 
 of his age, I tell you — only rising five, and as pretty a 
 piece of horse flesh as you could scare up in the hull 
 county. After selling the provisions and putting the 
 proceeds in my wallet, I dropped into a bar room to have 
 a drink before Pd start for hum. Just as I took a cigar 
 after the brandy, a long-legged, green-looking chap — 
 Vermonter, guess he was — comes up to the counter, 
 and says he, ^ Youngster, that horse of yourn^s pretty 
 smart horse, I reckon.^ 'Well, yes,^ I said, 'considera- 
 ble smart for a colt.^ ' What time does he make ? ^ 
 ' Three and a half.^ Says he, ' No ; can^t do it.^ ' Can^t ? ^ 
 says I. Says he, ' No, haiiPt got the points for three and 
 a half, nor four neither.^ 'Well,’ says I, quite coolly, 
 as I lit my cigar, 'you can bet, if you’ve a mind to.’ 
 'Agreed,’ says he ; ' what’ll it be ?’ 'I ain’t particular,’ 
 said I. ' Well,’ says he, ' treat for all round, if you’ve 
 got no objection.’ 'None,’ says I; 'I’m quite agree- 
 able.’ 
 
 " Well, having got the lend of a sulky from a doctor 
 in the neighborhood, we marked the course, appointed a 
 time-keeper, and off I started. Crackie, how that colt 
 did put that day ! Well, he went it slick, I tell yer. 
 The critter knew just’s well as I did myself what he’d 
 got to do, and he struck out like a good fellow.” 
 
 " Won the bet, of course ? ’ 
 
 " Won it ! Ye-e-s ; and twenty seconds to spare 
 besides. ' Well,’ said the tall fellow, coming up to me, 
 as I stepped from the sulky, and clapped the colt on 
 the back, — ' well,’ said he, ' he did his prettiest, I 
 reckin ? ’ 
 
 "Said I, 'No; not by a long chalk.’ 'Darn the 
 
260 
 
 MAHY LEE, OR 
 
 matter/ said he, ' he won the bet, any wa}^ ; so come in 
 and have a drink/ As the chap spoke, he beckoned to 
 two or three other hard-looking customers, that seemed 
 to be loafing about the corner, and then dove into an 
 oyster cellar. ' Brandy smashes and cigars for five,^ said 
 he, passing the bar-keeper. ' You'll go that, youngster, 
 won't you ? ' ^ Well, don't care if I do,' said I, ' though 
 
 I ain't much accustomed to it.' " 
 
 So you drank too much on that occasion ? " ob- 
 served one of the company, interrupting the details, for 
 he thought Mr. Weeks was growing rather tedious. 
 
 ''You'd better believe it, friend. Well, to cut the 
 story short, before I left the cellar that afternoon, I lost 
 the price of the squash and chickens, and swapped the 
 colt besides for a Canadian pony, a gold watch, and 
 thirty-seven dollars in cash. Next morning came, though, 
 and 0, scissors I if I didn't feel like suicide." 
 
 "Conscience stricken," said the priest, "for the 
 night's debauch ? " 
 
 " Conscience stricken ! Why, no ; but letting that 
 green chap come it over me so smooth. Well, I swow, 
 I never felt so cheap in my life — that's a fact." 
 
 "He cheated you, then ? " 
 
 "Yes — guess he did cheat me. Hold on a bit, 
 though ; you'll hear. About seven o'clock next morn- 
 ing, father came into the kitchen swearing like fifty. I 
 was lying abed at the time, just thinking of getting up." 
 
 " ' Where's the young scamp ? ' he cried : ' by thun- 
 der, I'll cowhide him this minute within an inch of his 
 life.' 
 
 " ' Good gracious ! ' exclaimed mother. ' Why, Amasa 
 Weeks ! Ain't you ashamed ? ' 
 
 " ' No, I ain't.' 
 
 " ' You oughter then.' 
 
 " ' Stand aside,' shouted father, ' and let me pass.' 
 
 ' Amasa, ain't you crazy 
 
 " ' Shut up, I say. The young scoundrel ! I'll teach 
 him how to trade ! ' 
 
 " ' Poor child,' said mother, ' it was his first trade ; 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 261 
 
 and what could you expect of a boy of fifteen ? Why, 
 gracious, if he was taken in about that watch, it ain^t 
 agoin to ruin you — is it ? ^ 
 
 ' But the horse ! the horse ! ^ shouted father. 
 
 ^ The horse I why, what^s the matter with the horse ? ^ 
 
 ^ The matter ! — thunderation^s the matter ! — the 
 critter^s blind ! ^ 
 
 ' Blind I — why, you don^t say ! ^ 
 
 ' And lame ! lame ! the tarnation villain ! ’ 
 ^^'Pheugh,^ said I, jumping out of bed and bolting 
 through the open window with my jacket under my arm ; 
 ^ it^s time I warn^t here, I reckon ; ’ and without Waiting 
 for further information on the subject, I cleared. 
 
 After the suppressed titter, which accompanied Weekses 
 story all through, had at last broken out into a broad 
 laugh, and then subsided, Father John quietly observed 
 that the gentleman^s first lesson was rather an expen- 
 sive one. 
 
 Should think so,^^ said Weeks in reply : it cost me, 
 or father rather, somewhere in the neighborhood of two 
 hundred dollars. 
 
 And so, after that, you concluded to drink no more ? 
 
 Gave it up, sir, right straight off ; I saw it wouldn^t 
 pay.'^ 
 
 And that, I suppose, was your only motive for be- 
 coming temperate ? 
 
 Why, yes — of course it was.^^ 
 
 Well,^^ said the priest, I can^t admire it much. 
 Had you only united that motive, selfish as it was, with 
 a desire to please God, and save your soul — 
 
 Whew ! ejaculated Weeks, interrupting the priest; 
 that^s quite another affair. My principle is, to leave 
 Christianity and religion, and all that sorter thing, to 
 those whose duty it is to look after it. Pm a business 
 man, squire, and my object is trade, and nothing else.^^ 
 
 Good 1 cried the captain, returning and clapping 
 Weeks on the shoulder as he passed him on his way to 
 the head of the table. ** Good, sir ; thaPs honest speak- 
 ing. By George, Weeks, you^re a trump. 
 
262 
 
 MARY LEE, OR 
 
 Well, themes my sentiments, and I ain^t afraid to 
 avow them either, said Weeks, taking courage from the 
 captain and the poteen together. Fm a business man, 
 and make no pretensions to piety, nor nothing else.^^ 
 
 Certainly not, sir ; that^s as much as you can at- 
 tend to.^’ 
 
 Of course it is — no doubt of it.^^ 
 
 And see here,^^ said Weeks, after finishing the last 
 glass, and making the spoon ring in the empty tumbler, 
 — see here, captain ; I may as well say what I think. 
 I never saw a pious business man yet worth a copper to 
 the country. I swonnie I never did.^^ 
 
 Ha, ha ! laughed the captain ; '' listen to that. 
 Father John.^^ 
 
 And I tell you what, sir,^^ continued Weeks, turn- 
 ing to the priest, — who now kept his head down to 
 hide a smile, while he toyed with his watch chain for an 
 excuse, — I tell you what, sir, ministers may say what 
 they please, but theyh*e a darned set of humbugs ; that^s 
 the hull amount of it.^^ 
 
 ^^Hah! take that, my reverend friend, chuckled the 
 captain again. The truth occasionally, you know, will 
 do you good.^^ 
 
 Fm quite surprised, Mr. Weeks, gravely observed 
 the priest, while the smile still kept playing about the 
 corners of his mouth, — Fm really surprised to hear you 
 speak so irreverently.^^ 
 
 '' Well, hold on a bit — hold on — see here : I know 
 as many as fifty ministers in New England alone, and 
 more too, abandoned their pulpits last year, and went 
 oif to speculate in this, that, and t’other thing, to make 
 money. Some went into the fish business, some into the 
 lumber trade, two on ’em from my own town turned to 
 the law, and the majority managed to squeeze themselves 
 into the legislature. Now, if these men had, what they 
 pretended to have, a vocation to the ministry before their 
 ordination, where in thunder did it go after ? Fd like to 
 know.” 
 
 It’s no doubt a melancholy fact,” said the priest. 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 263 
 
 that your Protestant clergy of New England, especially 
 those with limited revenues, in very many instances have 
 renounced their sacred calling for more lucrative trades 
 and professions, thereby disgracing -themselves and their 
 religion. Such instances are very rare in this country, 
 however. 
 
 '' Are ? — how^s that ? 
 
 Why, we don^t love money here, perhaps, so much 
 as you do in the States ; and besides, we haven^t the 
 same opportunities to speculate. 
 
 Well, that may be all very true ; but iPs my opin- 
 ion ministers, in general, make a trade of religion every 
 where, one way or other. I have had a pretty good 
 chance myself to see how the thing works, and I reckon 
 I can tell as much about it, too, as most folks. Been a 
 class-leader once in my time.^^ 
 
 '' What ! exclaimed the captain, leaning his folded 
 arms on the table, and gazing at the Yankee, bedizened 
 all over as he was with chains and brooches. What, a 
 class-leader — you ? 
 
 Yes.^' 
 
 A Methodist class-leader?^^ 
 
 Why, certainly. 
 
 '' A canting Methodist class-leader?^^ 
 
 Of course.^' 
 
 '' May the Lord forgive you, sir.^^ (The reader is 
 already aware of the captain^s special contempt for that 
 particular sect.) Why, you must have lost your 
 senses.^’ 
 
 '' Well, they are a kinder scraggy, I allow. 
 
 And you made such a spoony of yourself as to 
 snivel away with this psalm-singing set. By the Lord 
 Harry, Weeks, I thought you were a different man alto- 
 gether.^^ 
 
 ^^Well, I admit it was sorter mean — that^s a fact. 
 But wait a bit ; let me tell you how it happened. I had 
 an object in view.^^ 
 
 0, confound your object ! 
 
 Wait a minute ; you’ll say it warn’t a bad one, if 
 
264 
 
 MARY LEE, OR 
 
 the thing had been properly managed. Well, there was 
 a gal in our neighborhood, named Brown — Zepherina 
 Brown, or Zeph, as she was called for shortness^ sake/^ 
 
 '' Pardon me, Mr. Weeks — your glass is empt}',^^ said 
 the captain. Whately, send up the bottle. 
 
 You^ll excuse me, captain. 
 
 Hang your excuses ; make a glass of punch, sir, like 
 a man.^^ 
 
 '' Well, rd rather not, just at present.’^ 
 
 Nonsense ! 
 
 '' Fm not used to it, you know.^^ 
 
 Used to it ! used to Innishowen whiskey twenty 
 years old ? Are you used to new milk ? ^Pon my honor, 
 sir, Fm ashamed of you. If you don^t drink, by the 
 Lord Harry Fll think youh^e a Methodist still. 
 
 Well, I rather think Fll be ashamed of myself before 
 long, if I hold on at this rate. It begins to wake me up 
 already. I swonnie it does.^^ 
 
 Psaugh! My dear sir, you might drink a puncheon 
 of it. Irish whiskey^s meat, drink, washing, and lodging 
 for every human being under the sun. Come, send up 
 your tumbler ; Fll mix it for you. There^s Madeira and 
 Claret on the sideboard, and I wouldn^t give a brass but- 
 ton for oceans of it, while there^s a drop of this real old 
 Irish whiskey here to soften my heart. By George, sir, 
 if you only drank it for six months, it would make a man 
 of you.^^ 
 
 Humph ! guess it would — the wrong way.^^ 
 
 ''No, sir, but the right way. It would cure you of 
 that passion you have for speculating and money-making. 
 It would make your heart grow twice as big as it is — 
 ay, big enough, by George, to take the whole human 
 race into it.’^ 
 
 "Well, iFs a fact,^^ said Weeks, "it does make a 
 feller feel kind of good ; but guess it’s not to be trusted 
 too far, either, for all that.” 
 
 " Never fear. Weeks, never fear ; you go on with the 
 story, and Fll mix the punch.” 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 265 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 Mr, Weeks growSf eloquent after the second Tumbler ^ and 
 makes a crack Speech, but declines a Duel . with the 
 Light-keeper as not being in his Line. 
 
 Well/^ said Weeks, making another "start, '^Zeph 
 lived at a place called Pratt^s Corner, five or six miles 
 from Ducksville. She was kinder related to us somehow 
 by the Bigelows, and mother and she terrible intimate. 
 Zeph used to invite mother to prayer meetings, and 
 mother, in return, sent Zeph presents of apple-sass 
 twice a year regular. Well, Zeph got to be consid- 
 erable old, you know, and kinder wrinkly about the 
 nose, and, as a matter of course, pious in proportion 
 — but to balance the wrinkles, Zeph had the cash.^^ 
 
 Ho ! ho ! cried the captain, did the wind blow from 
 that quarter 
 
 She had two sawmills of her own, and some twenty 
 thousand dollars in railroad stocks besides. Well, I 
 made up my mind one day to try if I couldn’t induce 
 Zeph to take a partner to help her manage her busi- 
 ness affairs, and forthwith set about' making the ne- 
 cessary preparations. - 1 felt kinder green, then, you 
 know, in the religious line, and so thought better 
 attend two or three prayer meetings in Ducksville be- 
 forehand, to get into the way of it, like.’^ 
 
 Capital ! capital ! ejaculated the captain. 
 
 When the day came for my first trial, I shaved 
 clean as the razor would cut it, mounted a black suit 
 and half yard crape on my hat, and then put for Pratt’s 
 Corner. As I entered the room. Deacon Lovejoy was 
 holding forth strong against the old pope, (his favorite 
 theme ;) so, slinking in with a face as grave as I 
 could conveniently command, after so short a practice, 
 I took my seat longside Zeph, without seeming to notice 
 who was in it.' After the deacon resumed his chair, 
 23 
 
266 
 
 MARY LEE, OR 
 
 Zeph turned her head a leetle mite sideways, and siz 
 she, in a low, touching voice, ' 0 Mr. Weeks, how I 
 do rejoice to see you at last among the servants of the 
 Lord.^ ' Ah ! ^ said I, looking up in her face kinder 
 dreamy like, — ‘ Ah ! how pleasant it is to dwell in the 
 assembly of the faithful — 0 dear — ^ 
 
 ‘ YouVe been a wanderer,^ said Zeph. 
 
 ' Alas ! alas ! I have,^ said I, looking up at her 
 again. ^ IVe been a poor, sinful Tvanderer, seeking 
 for the waters of life among the swamps and quag- 
 mires of a wicked world ; but Heaven be praised, the 
 blessed light hath come at last to guide me to the pure 
 spring.^ 
 
 '^Excellent! capital ! shouted the captain, rapping 
 the table till the tumblers rang again. ''Ha, ha, ha! 
 by Jove, Weeks, youYe a clever fellow. Gentlemen, 
 let us postpone the courtship for the present ; I see 
 the ladies coming ; and fill your glasses — fill them up ; 
 bumpers let them be — nothing less than bumpers. 
 I give you Mr. Weeks and the stars and stripes for- 
 ever.^^ 
 
 The company rose and drank the toast with a hip, hip, 
 hurrah I and nine times nine ; and Kate, no longer able 
 to restrain her curiosity, came tripping in from the 
 drawing room, accompanied by half a dozen ladies, 
 declaring she could sit no longer among a parcel of 
 silly, moping girls, with such distinguished company 
 in the house. " Besides, she added, glancing archly 
 at Mr. Weeks, I want to hear a speech. I^m actually 
 dying to hear a speech from a citizen of the great re- 
 public. 
 
 " Gentlemen, please take your seats, said Captain 
 Petersham, with a wave of his hand ; "I see Mr. Weeks 
 is about to speak. As for you, ladies, youYe a set 
 of saucy, impudent baggages to intrude upon us here 
 over our cups.^^ 
 
 " Mr. Weeks, " Mr. Weeks, " Mr. Weeks, was 
 now heard from all parts of the room. 
 
 Ladies and gents, said the latter, rising slowly, and 
 
THE YANKEE IN IKELAND. 
 
 267 
 
 running* one hand into his vest pocket, while he rested 
 the other on the table, — ''ladies and gents, I ain’t 
 a-goin to make a speech; speech-making’s not in my 
 line. But I ain’t a-goin to sit silent, either, when such 
 honor is done to the flag of my country. Ladies and 
 gents, I’m an American born, of the true blue Puritan 
 stock, a citizen of the model republic of the world.” 
 [" Hear ! hear 1 ”] "I ain’t given to braggin much, I 
 expect, and besides, it don’t become a foreigner to brag 
 of his country in a strange land ; but speaking as this 
 here gent and I were (turning to Father John) about 
 religion, I ain’t afraid to assert that you can’t find, in 
 all creation, a class of men professing more enlarged and 
 liberal views of religion than the merchants and traders 
 of New England. 
 
 " We are liberal in all things where conscience merely 
 is concerned, and conservative only with a view to pre- 
 serve order in society, that trade may flourish under its 
 protection. Yes, ladies and gents, whatever tends to 
 cripple trade or impede the progress of social advance- 
 ment, whether it be a new theory or an old theory, a 
 new creed or an old creed, we strangle it. We strangle 
 it as the heathens in olden times used to strangle deformed 
 children. Business men in our country ain’t so very par- 
 ticular as to difference in religious denomination. They 
 don’t care much whether the creed be Orthodox, Univer- 
 salist. Episcopalian, or Baptist, if it only gives free 
 scope to intellect, and a clear track for human progress. 
 There’s but one creed they object to ; and that is — Ex- 
 cuse me, friend,” said the speaker, turning to the priest 
 — ‘'that is the Roman Catholic. ["Hear him I hear 
 him ! ” cried Captain Petersham ; "that’s the kind of talk 
 I like.” " Hear him ! hear him ! ” echoed half a dozen 
 others, following the lead.] Well, the fact is, ladies and 
 gents, they can’t go that kinder doctrine, no how ; it 
 tightens them up so they can’t move one way or other. 
 The laws and rules of the Catholic church hain’t got 
 no joints in ’em; you can’t bend ’em no shape or form. 
 Then they have what they call ' confession ; ’ and if one 
 
268 
 
 MARY LEE, OR 
 
 of their society happens to speculate beyond his means, 
 the priest brings him right chock up for it ; so he hain^t 
 got no chance to risk any thing in the way of trade, no 
 how he can fix it. Again, if a Catholic happens to find 
 a pocket book, for instance, with five or six thousand 
 dollars in it, he must restore it to the owner right 
 straight off, when, by waiting for twelve months or so, he 
 might make a few hundreds by the use of it to start 
 him in business. Such a creed as that, ladies and gents, 
 no true American can tolerate. Well — he wouldn’t 
 deserve the name of a freeman if he did. The question 
 for Americans is, not whether any particular form of re- 
 ligion be young or old, true or false, divine or human, 
 but whether it suits the genius of the country ; that’s 
 the question — the only question — to decide. Our 
 country is young, ladies and gents ; she has done little 
 more, as yet, than just begun to develop her re- 
 sources — the greatest resources of any nation through- 
 out all universal space ; and we feel it’s our best policy 
 to moderate the rigors of the gospel — to temper it, as 
 it were — well, to make it as little exacting as possible. 
 Hence our ministers, as a general thing, especially in 
 cities and large towns, seldom preach about sin, or hell, 
 or the ten commandments, or that kinder subjects, be- 
 cause such themes are calculated to disturb and perplex 
 business men, to the injury of trade. And we have 
 long made up our minds that trade must be cared for, 
 whatever else suffers. Yes, ladies and gents,” con- 
 tinued the speaker, growing more animated as the old 
 Innishowen began to warm up his blood, our country 
 is bound to go ahead of every other country in crea- 
 tion. Excuse me, ladies and gents, for speaking my 
 sentiments right out on the subject ; but they are my 
 sentiments and the sentiments of every native born 
 American.” 
 
 Bravo, bravo, Weeks ! ” cried the captain ; his fat 
 sides shaking as he clapped his hands. Bravo ^ — that’s 
 the talk.” 
 
 Yes,” continued Weeks, '' I’m a Yankee, and them 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 269 
 
 sentiments are true blue Yankee sentiments. We ain^t 
 a-goin to be fettered by any form of religion under the 
 sun ; if it don^t encourage trade and commerce it don^t 
 suit us — that^s the hull amount of it. Had the United 
 States hung on to the old worn-out creeds of Europe, 
 what should our people be now ? — perhaps in no better 
 condition than yourselves, ladies and gents, at this pres- 
 ent moment. 
 
 That^s cool/^ muttered some one in an under tone. 
 
 It^s a fact, nevertheless,^^ said Weeks, catching the 
 words. The antiquated religion of our grandfathers 
 would have acted like a strait-jacket on the nation, 
 cramping its energies and stinting its growth. Had 
 we not shaken ourselves free from the trammels both 
 of pilgrim and priestly rules, could we have become in 
 so short a period so intelligent, enterprising, and power- 
 ful a nation ? Yes, ladies and gents, could we have 
 flung our right arm across the Gulf, and laid hold of 
 Mexico by the hair of the head, as we do now, and be 
 ready to extend our left over your British American 
 possessions, at any day or hour we please to take the 
 trouble, and sweep them into our lap ? I ask, ladies and 
 gents, could we have done that? 
 
 Hurrah ! shouted the captain — capital I glo- 
 rious ! 
 
 '' I don’t profess, ladies and gents,” still continued 
 Weeks, to belong to any particular religious denomina- 
 tion myself. My creed is, ' a first cause and thq perfec- 
 tibility of man : ’ that’s the length, breadth, and thick- 
 ness of my religious belief, and I stand on that platform 
 firm and flat-footed. Still, I go in for three things in the 
 religious line, as strong as any man — almshouses, 
 observance of the Sabbath, and reading the Bible. 
 These are excellent things in their way, and . ought to 
 be encouraged by every man who loves order and likes 
 to see trade flourish. But I can go no further ; I 
 can never believe, sir, (turning to the priest,) that the 
 Founder of Christianity intended a nation so intelligent, 
 so intellectual, and so civilized as ours, should be bound 
 23 * 
 
270 
 
 MARY LEE, OR 
 
 down hand and foot by the strict rules of the gospel. 
 No, sir ; he intended we should moderate and adapt 
 them as far as possible to the interests of the state and 
 the requirements of society. With these ideas and these 
 principles, ladies and gents, we are bound to go ahead — 
 we must go ahead — we canH help it — prosperity forces 
 itself upon us — we on our part have only ' to clear the 
 track ^ for it. Nothing can bar our progress, for our 
 destiny is universal empire. Nothing can stop our course 
 — - no obstacle, moral or physical, on earth or air, on sea 
 or land. Yes, our energies are immense, and must be 
 expended. Ladies and gents, were it necessary to bore 
 the earth through, we should do it. Yes, by crackie, 
 tunnel almighty creation to find an outlet for our re- 
 sources.^^ 
 
 Glorious, glorious ! shouted the captain ; hurrah ! 
 for the stars and stripes ! Well done. Weeks ; bravo, 
 bravo ! my boy.^^ 
 
 And Bravo, bravo I echoed from all parts of the 
 room ; even the ladies stood up and waved their pocket 
 handkerchiefs. In the midst of this general acclama- 
 tion, however, and just as Mr. Weeks had hitched up his 
 shoulders for another start, a loud, piercing shriek came 
 from the entrance hall, which startled and silenced the 
 noisy company in an instant. 
 
 What the fury is that ? demanded the captain. 
 
 Ho, there, James, Thomas — go instantly and see what 
 that noi^e means. 
 
 Kate rushed to the door, followed by the other ladies, 
 curious to learn what had happened ; and the gentle- 
 men, fearing some serious accident, darted out pell-mell 
 after them. 
 
 Who the mischief are you ? growled Captain 
 Petersham, grasping a tall, grave-looking man by the 
 arm, as he hurried out from the parlor. '' Who the mis- 
 chief are you, fellow ? 
 
 Pardon me, sir,’^ replied the stranger in the mildest 
 manner possible ; my name is Sweetsoul. I came 
 with — 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 271 
 
 Who ! what! the colporteur! the Methodist Bible- 
 reader ! 
 
 "" The same, sir/' 
 
 And what do jou want here, sir ? " 
 
 '' Excuse me, sir, I — " 
 
 '"I shan't excuse you, sir; you have no business in 
 my house, you canting rascal ; out of it instantly." 
 
 '' But the lady there, sir." 
 
 '' Lady, what lady ? " 
 
 Hush, hush ! brother Tom," whispered Kate, catch- 
 ing him by the button-hole, and whispering in his ear ; 
 '^it's Baby Deb." 
 
 '' What, one of the Hard wrinkles ? " 
 
 '^Yes, yes," she replied, convulsed with laughter; 
 '' her sister Rebecca — ha, ha, ha ! — her sister Rebecca 
 — ha, ha ! " 
 
 Cease your folly, Kate, and tell me." 
 
 Well, she's — ha, ha ! — gone off with — " 
 
 Eloped ? " 
 
 '' Yes, fled away with — . 0, dear ! " 
 
 '' Rebecca Hard wrinkle eloped ? Nonsense, Kate, 
 you're only fooling me." 
 
 It's a positive fact," said the light-hearted, mischief- 
 loving girl — '' ask Baby Deb, there, if you don't believe 
 me." 
 
 '^0, dear! 0, dear!" cried the latter, clapping her 
 hands ; she's gone ! she's gone ! " 
 
 Well, there," ejaculated Weeks, when he heard what 
 had taken place, '' there ! eloped ! if that ain't going it 
 strong, I don't know what is. By thunder, if this ain't 
 the most infernal country — " 
 
 Miss Hardwrinkle," said the captain, kindly taking 
 the disconsolate young lady by the arm, let me conduct 
 you to Aunt Willoughby's room. And tell me as we go 
 how all this happened." 
 
 '' Won't you send the police in search of her, captain ? 
 I came all the way with Mr. Sweetsoul to entreat you to 
 send them." 
 
272 
 
 MARY LEE, OR 
 
 Certainly, certainly, my dear young lady, I shall do 
 so forthwith ; but how did it happen ? 
 
 Why, a man came to the house in Ballymagahey, 
 where we had been distributing tracts, and told Rebecca 
 a dying woman wanted to see her immediately, and 
 have some spiritual conversation with her before she 
 departed.’^ 
 
 Humph ! I see ; well ? 
 
 Well, poor Rebecca! — you know, captain, how 
 eagerly she thirsted for the salvation of souls — 
 
 ''Yes, yes, I know all that — well ? ’’ 
 
 The instant the man delivered the message, she 
 started off as quickly as if — 
 
 " Yes, of course — I understand you ; well ? 
 
 " Her holy zeal, you know' — ’’ 
 
 " Never mind her zeal. What the fury have I to do 
 with her zeal — excuse me. Miss Hard wrinkle, but can^t 
 you tell me how she was carried off' at once ? 
 
 "0, dear! you hurry me so — and then Fm almost 
 dead with the fright.^^ 
 
 " Listen to me — did you see her carried off? 
 
 " See her ? 
 
 " Yes, yes, did you actually see her ? 
 
 " With my own eyes.^^ 
 
 " Then how was she carried off? ’’ 
 
 " Behind a man ! 0, dear ! 0, dear ! 
 
 " Behind a man ? 
 
 " Yes ; on — a — on — a Here Deborah tried to 
 blush and cover her face. 
 
 " Confound it, on what ? ’’ roared the captain, losing 
 patience altogether. "Can^t you speak at once if you 
 wish me to take measures for your sister^s recovery ? 
 How did he carry her off? 
 
 " On a — on a — 0, dear, on a pillion ! behind him.^^ 
 
 " Phew ! on a pillion ! Ha, ha ! By the Lord Harry, 
 that was a sight. 
 
 " It was shocking — in broad daylight too ; 0, dear ! 
 
 "It was villanous,^’ said the captain, endeavoring to 
 smother a laugh — "most atrocious! to carry such a 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 273 
 
 saintly young lady, and one so reserved in all her habits 
 of life, over the open country in broad daylight, on a pil- 
 lion. S Meath ! the scoundrel should be hung for it.’^ 
 
 And 0, captain/^ said Deborah, '' I can never forget 
 the terrific shriek she gave, as she flew past me behind 
 the inhuman wretch. It still rings in my ears — it was 
 heart-rending.’^ 
 
 Who could have played this trick, Kate ? ” said the 
 captain, turning to his sister; eh — what does it mean ? 
 
 — I confess I don’t understand it.” 
 
 And how can I ? ” replied Kate, covering her face 
 with her handkerchief; how can I, if you don’t ? ” 
 
 Kate ! ” 
 
 '' What ? ” 
 
 Look up.” 
 
 There — what’s the matter ? ” 
 
 This is some of your devilry.” 
 
 '' Mine ! ” 
 
 '' Yours. Come ! come ! no evasion now ; you’re in 
 the plot, whatever it is, as sure as your name’s Kate Pe- 
 tersham. It’s exactly like you — you needn’t try to look 
 serious.” 
 
 Why, brother Tom ! ” 
 
 "'Psaugh — brother Tom I — that won’t do, Kate. I 
 vow to Heaven, you’re the most mischievous — but stop 
 
 — wait a minute,” he added, as a sudden thought seemed 
 to strike him. Miss Hardwrinkle,” said he, again ap- 
 proaching the afflicted j^’oung lady, Miss Hardwrinkle, 
 do you remember to have seen the man before ? ” 
 
 What, the wretch who — ? ” 
 
 ''Yes — have you any recollection of seeing him be- 
 fore ? ” 
 
 " No ; for I could see nothing but his form, he flew by 
 so fast ; and besides, he kept whipping the wretched ani- 
 mal so dreadfully all the time.” 
 
 "'He, he, he!” chuckled Uncle Jerr}’^ to himself all 
 alone on the sofa ; "it must have been an amusing 
 sight.” 
 
 " You’re a barbarous man,” said Kate, overhearing the 
 
274 
 
 MARY LEE,' OR 
 
 words as she passed him by — you^re a barbarous man 
 to say so/^ 
 
 ^^0, you young trickster/^ exclaimed Uncle Jerry, shak- 
 ing his finger at her as she turned back her laughing eyes 
 upon him ; ''the plot is of your making, as sure as the 
 sun/^ 
 
 " What was the color of his clothes ? again inquired 
 the captain ; " or did you see any thing remarkable in 
 his form or appearance ? 
 
 " Nothing — I could see nothing distinctly, except that 
 he wore a cap/^ 
 
 " A cap — what kind of cap ? — black or blue ? 
 
 "No. I rather think,^’ replied Deborah, "it was a 
 sort of fur cap ; it looked rough rather, and somewhat 
 high in the crown. 
 
 " Whitish ? 
 
 " Yes. Something like a hare or rabbit-skin cap.^^ 
 
 "ThaUs enough ! exclaimed the captain, "that^s quite 
 enough ; I know the villain ! I know him ! — I suspected 
 who he was from the beginning ; he’s the most daring, 
 impudent, reckless rascal, that, in all Christendom.” 
 
 " Who is he — who is he ? ” demanded half a dozen 
 together. 
 
 " Lanty Hanlon, of course ; who else could he be ? 
 No man but Lanty in the three baronies would dare play 
 such a trick.” 
 
 "Lanty Hanlon,” screamed Baby Deb, in semi-hys- 
 terics ; " 0, my gracious ! ” 
 
 " Don’t be alarmed,” said the captain ; "your sister’s 
 in safe hands.” 
 
 " 0, no, no, captain ; that man will murder her 1 ” 
 
 " Not he ; nor hurt a hair of her head, either.” 
 
 " Why, you surely mistake, captain,” said several of 
 the company. " Lanty Hanlon’s the most notorious rob- 
 ber and wrangler in the whole neighborhood.” 
 
 " I can show you a wound he gave me here on the top 
 of my head, captain,” said the colporteur, sneaking into 
 the room. 
 
 "What, you! Out of my house, you scurvy vaga- 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 275 
 
 bond/^ shouted the burly captain, collaring the Bible- 
 reader, and sending' him head-foremost from the room. 
 *‘110, there, fellows, James, Thomas, bundle out that 
 snivelling rascal. By the Lord Harry, if he come in my 
 sight again, 1^11 horsewhip him.^^ 
 
 ** Well, but, captain, you must be mistaken about this 
 Hanlon,’^ said one ; **it was he beat my game-keeper.^^ 
 
 **The same fellow robbed my salmon box,^^ said 
 another. 
 
 ** And poached on my premises,’^ said a third. 
 
 **Yes, and by crackie, it was that tarnation villain 
 drugged me first with poteen whiskey, and then danced 
 me to death, at the wedding,^^ put in Weeks. **He^s 
 the most provoking rascal, too, 1 ever met, for he keeps 
 as cool as a cucumber all the while.’’ 
 
 ** Gentlemen,” said the captain, **you may say what 
 you please of Lanty Hanlon, and think what you please, 
 too, but 1 know him better than the whole kit of you put 
 together ; and by the Lord Harry, he’s one of the best 
 specimens of his class I ever saw. He’s an honest- 
 hearted, reckless, rollicking, light-hearted Irishman, who 
 likes his bit of fun as well as the best of us, and will have 
 it if he can ; but tell me the man ever knew Lanty to do 
 a mean thing. He may have speared your salmon, and 
 shot your game, and broken your bailiffs’ heads ; but 
 where’s the harm in that? Can you call it a crime to kill 
 the trout that swims in the mountain brooks, or the black 
 cock that feeds on the mountain heather ? What right 
 have you to forbid a man to catch the trout that jumps 
 ill the stream before his own door, or kill the game that 
 feeds on his own pasture ? May the devil take such game 
 laws, say I, and may the man that respects them never 
 know the taste of a white trout at breakfast, or a black 
 cock at supper. As for you, Mr. Weeks, you must have 
 said or done something to provoke Lanty, or he never 
 had put you through the coarse hackle in that way. Be- 
 sides, you didn’t matriculate here yet ; you’re green in 
 the country.” 
 
276 
 
 MARY LEE, OR 
 
 Gentleman wishes to see Mr. Weeks/^ said a ser- 
 vant, interrupting the speaker. 
 
 Mr. Weeks followed, and was conducted to the break- 
 fast parlor. As the door opened, the visitor advanced to 
 meet him, with an open letter in his hand. 
 
 ''Ha! Mr. Lee, glad to see you, sir — how d^ye 
 do ? 
 
 " Good evening, sir,^^ replied the light-keeper, stiffly. 
 " Pra3% Mr. Weeks, is this your handwriting? 
 
 " My handwriting ? 
 
 "Yes, sir; Miss Lee received that letter this morning 
 through Tamny post office ; it bears your signature.’^ 
 
 " Why, what^s the trouble ? ’^ 
 
 " Do you acknowledge it yours, sir ? 
 
 "Well, yes, I reckon so; whaPs the matter? you 
 seem kinder put out about it.^^ 
 
 "Mr. Weeks, said the light-keeper, "you have man- 
 aged in some way to get hold of ray note of hand ; may 
 I now ask how you came to know of the existence of 
 such a paper — or was it through Mr. Robert Hard- 
 wrinkle you discovered it?^’ 
 
 Weeks bowed his assent. 
 
 " Ah, I thought so. Well, sir, having bribed an old 
 woman to play the black-foot between you and my niece. 
 Miss Lee, and not having succeeded as soon as you 
 anticipated, you directed your attorney to mark a writ 
 against me for debt ; and now, at the heels of the writ. 
 Miss Lee receives that letter, making her proposals of 
 marriage, and assuring her at the same time of an account 
 at your banker^s of a hundred thousand dollars. What 
 does this mean, sir ? 
 
 " It ain^t the first letter, I guess — is it ? 
 
 "Not the first you sent, sir, but the first came to her 
 hands. 
 
 " Shoh ! you don’t say so ! That infernal she devil 
 then has played me false — well, there I Tarnation seize 
 the whole darned pack — ” 
 
 " Hold, sir. Did you or did you not take out this writ 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 277 
 
 against my body with a view to compel Miss Lee to 
 marry you ? 
 
 '' How^s that ? muttered Weeks, affecting not to 
 understand the question. 
 
 '' Answer me, yes or no,’^ said the light-keeper; I 
 have no time to spare. 
 
 '' Look here, friend ; I ain^t a-goin to be catechised 
 this fashion. 
 
 '' Catechised — by all the gods in Olympus, Fll cate- 
 chise you, my fine fellow, and the right way, too. Your 
 villany’s discovered at last, sir. Else Curley has re- 
 vealed to me all your plots and schemes. 
 
 Well, but you needn^t get into such a fuss about it, 
 my dear man,^^ responded Weeks, quite coolly ; if you 
 ain’t disposed to let me have the girl, why don’t, that’s 
 all ; but you’ve got to pay the face of the notes, or go 
 to jail — ” 
 
 Scoundrel, let you have the girl ! ” 
 
 Ain’t I good enough for her ? ” 
 
 You! ” 
 
 ‘^Why, yes. I’m an American born — good enough, 
 I reckon, for the best Irish girl ever stood in shoe leather 
 — all-fired proud as they are.” 
 
 And why didn’t you ask her like a man, if you 
 thought so ? No, you hadn’t the courage, sir. Your 
 meanness of soul wouldn’t let you. You preferred to 
 scheme and plot with Else Curley, and to sneak about 
 my house day after day like a hungry spaniel. By 
 George, if I suspected what brought you there when you 
 first came, I’d have flung you neck and heels into the 
 Devil’s Gulch. What ! because I’m poor, you tried to 
 compel my niece to marry you through fear of my incar- 
 ceration. Begone, sir ! let me never see you within a 
 league of the lighthouse again, or if you do, I’ll horse- 
 whip you as I would a dog.” 
 
 Say, don’t get into such a fury about it.” 
 
 Fury ! ” repeated the light-keeper, buttoning up his 
 coat, and darting a look at the crest-fallen Yankee so full 
 of contempt that the latter cowered under it. '' Baugh, 
 24 
 
278 
 
 MARY LEE, OR 
 
 sir,^^ he added, ''you’re beneath my scorn. Had you 
 the slightest pretension to the character of a gentleman, 
 I should have compelled you before I left this room to 
 apologize for the insult you offered — but coxcomb and 
 a coward as you are, I let you pass.’’ 
 
 "Coward! guess you’re mistaken — ain’t you?” re- 
 plied Weeks, shoving his hands down into his breeches 
 pockets, and hitching up his shoulders. 
 
 " You’re a disgrace, sir, to the name of America,” 
 continued the light-keeper, without noticing the reply. 
 " Your country is a noble country, sir; your heroes of 
 the revolution rank among the first soldiers of the world ; 
 your orators and statesmen have already eclipsed some 
 of the first celebrities of Europe ; your people, in the 
 main, are a high-minded, generous people ; but you, sir, 
 and such sneaking rascals as you, with your godless lib- 
 eralism, and your national vanity, are enough to bring 
 your country into contempt wherever you go. I have 
 loved America ever since I was able to lisp the name ; 
 but if you be a fair specimen of your countrymen, 1 
 would rather be a dog than an American. If you’re a 
 Yankee, the New Englanders must have sadly degener- 
 ated since the revolution. Go, go I ” 
 
 "Well,” said Weeks, "can’t say as to that; but I 
 rather guess they’re a leetle ahead of the Irish yet.” 
 
 " Yes ; you and such as you, in vending hickory hams 
 and wooden nutmegs, may be somewhat smarter, I sup- 
 pose. But smartness, without either honor or principle, 
 is a poor recommendation. Go home, sir, go home again, 
 and tell your countrymen — that class of them at least 
 to which you belong — that hucksters and speculators 
 are less respected here in Europe for their smartness, 
 than despised for their love of gold. Tell them 3 ^ou 
 failed in your own speculation in matrimony, because 
 you relied too much on your low cunning, and valued too 
 lightly the character of the people on whose simplicity 
 you came to practise. Tell them you saw in Ireland a 
 poor man proud — bankrupt in every thing but honor — 
 who, reduced to beggary and a jail, would rather see his 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 279 
 
 child mated with the poorest peasant on his native hills, 
 than give her to a peddling, speculating foreigner, with 
 a hundred thousand dollars at his banker’s. There, sir,’’ 
 he added, flinging the letter in Weeks’s face, take 
 back your vile proposal, and begone. I came with a 
 brace of pistols here in my breast, to demand the satis- 
 faction due from one gentleman to another ; but you’re 
 too contemptible a scoundrel to smell an honest man’s 
 powder ; ” and so saying the light-keeper flung on his 
 slouched hat and left the room. 
 
 Weeks stood full three minutes gazing at the door 
 through which the light-keeper passed, without moving 
 a muscle — his hands, as usual, thrust into his pockets. 
 He seemed completely confounded at what had taken 
 place. ^MVell, there,” he ejaculated at length, throw- 
 ing himself down in an arm chair and taking out his pen- 
 knife to whittle a small mahogany rule that lay beside 
 him on the table, apparently without the least conscious- 
 ness of what he was doing — there, that’s the end of 
 it, I reckon. Humph ! well, Mr. Charles B. Bigelow, or 
 rather I should say, Mr. Ephraim C. B. Weeks — since 
 that’s the name you have chosen for the present — I think 
 you ought to feel kinder cheap — eh I four hundred dol- 
 lars lost for spells and charms — that is, considering the 
 sort of bills they were — not to speak of what the note 
 cost me — and fooled into the bargain. Go it, go it, my 
 hoy, — that’s the way to make a fortune out of the igno- 
 rant Irish. Well, I’m in a fix, that’s a fact — a tarna- 
 tion ugly fix, too. 0 Else Curley, out of h — 11 there’s 
 no such woman as you. I reckoned I was pretty smart 
 myself, but I guess you’re a leetle mite smarter. 
 Humph ! of some twenty love-letters, the girl has re- 
 ceived but one, and that’s the very one I mailed myself 
 at tlie post office. And there’s that darned cabin boy — 
 only for him I might get along slick enough yet ; for 
 come to get the light-keeper into jail. Cousin Robert and 
 I could manage to carry off* the girl somehow. But the 
 boy, if he recover, will reveal all, and then the whole 
 secret is blown. Sambo says he’ll go down to the light- 
 
280 
 
 MARY LEE, OR 
 
 house to-night and demand the young scamp — and 
 Cousin Robert promises to send a constable with him to 
 enforce his right of guardianship — but should he blab 
 the secret before they reach him, I must put for Ducks- 
 ville right straight off. As it is, Fm cornered up rather 
 close to feel comfortable. 0, Ireland, Ireland — could I 
 once get off with this girl under my arm, I should advise 
 every stranger that values his life to keep clear of you a 
 day^s sailing at least.^^ 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 281 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 Else and Mary. — The Solitary and her Foster-child. 
 
 The reader will recollect that when Kate Petersham 
 parted with Mary Lee at the steps, the latter looked 
 somewhat alarmed at the serious tone in which her light- 
 hearted friend begged her to remember Randall Barry 
 that night in her prayers. She made an effort, in fact, to 
 detain Kate for an explanation ; but Kate eluded her 
 grasp, and bounded down the steps, the moment she ut- 
 tered the words, with the fleetness and agility of a fairy. 
 
 On her return to the sick room, the agitated girl found 
 Else seated on a low stool beside the little cabin boy^s 
 bed, knitting her stocking. 
 
 What ails ye, dear ? said the latter, with a tender- 
 ness of look and tone she seldom betrayed even to her 
 favorite. What ails ye, Mary ? yer so pale.’^ 
 
 Pale I am I pale ? 
 
 '' Yer as pale as a ghost, dear — whaPs the matther ? 
 
 '' Nothing. But come to my room — I have some- 
 thing to ask you. We mustn^t disturb our little patient, 
 you know. How is he now. Else ? 
 
 Better.’^ 
 
 YouYe sure ? 
 
 Sure as can be, dear — he^s recoverin fast. He got 
 the cool [crisis] this morning, an his pulPs quieter now.^^ 
 
 ''Thank God, exclaimed the grateful girl, with all 
 the fervor of her pure loving heart. " 0, I knew well 
 the Blessed Virgin wouldn^t forget him. Her interces- 
 sion has saved him. Poor little fellow, he^ll see home 
 and friends once more. Won’t he. Else ? ” 
 
 " Hope so.” 
 
 " But, Else ! ” 
 
 " What ? ” 
 
 "You have a secret for me.” 
 
 " A secret ? ” 
 
 24 * 
 
282 
 
 MAKY LEE, OE 
 
 Yes ; I saw it in Miss Petersham’s face, and I see it 
 now in yours. You needn’t try to keep it from me, Else. 
 Kandall Barry’s arrested.” 
 
 Eandall Barry! Why, what in the world, dear, put 
 that in your head ? ” 
 
 '^Else, you needn’t try to deceive me. I know well he’s 
 taken.” 
 
 And what if he is, asthore?” said Else, smoothing 
 down the dishevelled tresses of her lovely protegee with 
 her hard, bony fingers, whilst the muscles of her own 
 face twitched with emotion — what if he is? sure it’s 
 only for a day or two. He’ll soon be free again.” 
 
 Had I only taken my dear uncle’s advice, and told 
 him never to come again, this had never happened.” 
 
 And didn’t ye tell him that a hundred times ?” 
 
 Yes ; I told him often how my uncle loved me, and 
 how it would break his heart if I leave him — and how 
 little I knew of the world, and how poor a companion I 
 would make for one like him. I told him all this many 
 and many a time. Else, and begged him to return home 
 to the south, and wait for better and happier days — but 
 he knew my heart belied my words.” 
 
 God love yer innocent heart,” exclaimed Else, while 
 her old eyes filled with tears ; God love ye, dear ; yer 
 too good for this world.” 
 
 Had I only prayed fervently to God for strength,” 
 continued Mary, I might have overcome my weakness. 
 But alas! Else, I’m so selfish; I was thinking only of his 
 love for me all the time, when I should have thought of 
 nothing but his safety. And he’s now a prisoner on my. 
 account, with shackles on his limbs, and the doom of 
 the rebel before him. 0, if I had only parted with him 
 forever the last time he clambered up these rocks to 
 see me.” 
 
 '^And if ye had,” said Else, '^ye’d have nothin for it.” 
 Ye were both intended for one another, and for that rai- 
 son jQ niver cud part him. So take heart now, and 
 aR ’ll be well yit.’^ 
 
 0 Kandall Barry, Randall Barry ! so brave — so faith- 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 283 
 
 f^l — so true to his coimtiy and to me/^ cried the dis- 
 tressed girl. '' Else, Else, could 1 see him free once 
 more, were it only for an instant, 1 would bid him fare- 
 well forever, should my heartstrings break in the parting.^^ 
 
 There was a sense of desolation in tlie words or the 
 tones of Mary^s voice that touched the old woman deeply. 
 But when the former spoke of her heart breaking, the 
 very idea seemed to call back again into life the better 
 and holier feelings of her nature, and unable to control 
 any longer the emotion that agitated her soul, the old 
 woman flung her arms around the neck of her foster- 
 child, and wept over her like a mother. 
 
 '' God forbid ! God forbid ! asthore machree,^^ she cried, 
 
 God forbid yer hearted break. Barlin ! darlin ! why 
 shud it ever break ? for it^s little this world can spare a 
 heart like yours. 0, angel ! ye don^t know what yer 
 heart is, or what yer pure innecint soul is worth to a 
 sinful earth like this. It’s little ye know, dear, what yer 
 are. Modest, wee crather, yer as simple and bashful as 
 the daizy that grows undher the green fern by the moun- 
 tain stranie; no one sees ye, no one knows ye, no one 
 thinks of ye down here in the black bins of Araheera — 
 but I know ye, asthore, I know what yer heart is ; och, och, 
 it’s I that does, ivery pulse of it. And why shudn’t I, 
 Mary, darlin ? wasn’t it these withered hands tore ye from 
 yer dead mother’s arms, here among the rocks ; wasn’t 
 it me nursed ye on ould Nannie’s milk, and rocked ye in 
 yer cradle up there in my poor cabin on the Cairn. I know 
 what the valie of your heart is, alanna. An to spake of 
 it brakin for Randall Barry, or suflerin one minute’s pain 
 — niver, niver,” she exclaimed, suddenly rising, ^'niver, 
 Mary, while I’m livin and able to prevent it.” 
 
 The change in Else’s look and tone was quick as 
 thought. For a moment her heart had softened under 
 the mesmeric touch of the angelic being she embraced. 
 But it was only for a moment. Again the dark shadow 
 came rushing back upon her soul, and again the relaxed 
 muscles of her face resumed their usual hard and stern 
 expression. 
 
284 
 
 MARY LEE, OR 
 
 Let me pass, girl,^^ she cried; I have work to do/^ 
 
 What work ? 
 
 No matter — let me pass/^ 
 
 '' Else, your countenance terrifies me. 0, I know that 
 dark, awful temptation is upon you again. 
 
 '' Away, child ; take your hands off my cloak — I must 
 be gone.^^ 
 
 What’s your purpose, Else ? ” 
 
 Purpose ! I niver had but one purpose for thirty 
 years, and the time is come now to execute it.” 
 
 ''You shan’t leave me,” said Mary, kneeling ; "you 
 shan’t leave me. Else, till you promise to do no harm to 
 Eobert Hard wrinkle or his family.” 
 
 The bid woman folded her arms on her brown, half- 
 naked breast, and looked down on the face of her 
 foster-child. 
 
 "Mary Lee,” she said, — her voice husky with the 
 passion she strove in vain to conceal, — " Mary Lee, yer 
 tears balked me of my vengeance twiste before — take 
 care they don’t a third time, for I swear by — ” 
 
 "Hush! hush! Else,” interrupted her fair proiegeey 
 holding up the crucifix that hung suspended from her 
 neck, and laying her forefinger on the lips of the figure. 
 " Hush ! these lips never spoke but to bless.” 
 
 " Take it away, girl ; take it away,” cried Else, avert- 
 ing her eyes from the image, as if she feared to look 
 upon it lest her courage should fail ; "take it away, and 
 listen to me. I’m bound by a vow made at the siege of 
 Madeira, by the side of my dead husban, niver to forget 
 what Lieutenant Eichard Barry did for me that day. 
 Eandall Barry is that man’s grandson, and he now lies a 
 prisiner in Tamny barracks through the threachery of 
 Eobert Hardwrinkle. The time is come to fulfil my 
 promise, and I’ll do it ; I’ll save Eandall Barry, should I 
 lose body and soul in the attempt.” 
 
 " Else, Else, this is impious,” said Mary; ‘'remember 
 there’s a God above you.” 
 
 " Paugh !” ejaculated the old woman; "I knew no 
 God these thirty years ; ” and as she spoke she wrested 
 
THE YANKEE IN ICELAND. 
 
 285 
 
 Mary^s hands from her cloak, and caught the handle of 
 the door. Let the villain luck to himself now,^^ she 
 cried — let him and them that brought my only sister 
 to shame and an early grave, — that driv my brother 
 from his father’s hearthstone to die among the strangers, 
 — that hunted myself like the brock through the crags 
 iv Benraven — hah — let them luck to themselves now, 
 for as Heaven hears me, if Randall Barry’s not a free 
 man in four and twenty hours, their roof tree smokes 
 for it.” 
 
 Else, stop for a moment.” 
 
 Away, girl ! ” 
 
 Else, Else,” entreated Mary, again attempting to 
 detain her. Would you commit murder — deliberate 
 murder ? ” 
 
 Murdher I is it murdher to burn a nest of vipers ? ” 
 
 Else, think for a moment. You have an immortal 
 soul to be saved.” 
 
 Me ! I have no soul. I lost it thirty years ago — 
 let me pass.” 
 
 Listen to me.” 
 
 No, no, no ; I listened to you too long — awaj^ ! ” 
 
 '' Grant me but one favor. It may be the last I shall 
 ever ask — for I fear. Else, we must soon fly from this 
 place, and then I can never hope to see you more. Grant 
 me but one favor.” 
 
 What’s that — mercy to the Hardwrinkles ? ” 
 
 No, dear Else, but mercy to yourself — to your own 
 soul, dearer to me than the wealth of worlds. Here,” 
 she continued, throwing her rosary over Else’s neck, 
 ''tell these beads to-night before you sleep, and as you 
 pray, fix your eyes on the crucifix.” 
 
 " Stop, stop ! ” exclaimed the old woman, her face 
 flushed with passion, while the hood of her cloak, falling 
 back on her shoulders and revealing her gray elf locks, 
 gave her the look of a maniac. " Stop ! ” she ejaculat- 
 ed, repulsing the pious and affectionate girl — " stop ! I 
 can’t touch this blissid thing. Eh, what ? God of 
 heaven ! what’s this ? ” 
 
286 
 
 MABY LEE, OR 
 
 ''The image of Christ/^ responded Mary, "whose life 
 was one continuous act of love. Look at those arms 
 extended to bless and forgive the whole world, and tell 
 me, can you behold the image of that dying Saviour, and 
 yet feel so hard-hearted as to take the life of your fellow- 
 creature ? 
 
 " Whisht, girl, whisht,’^ said Else, sinking back on a 
 chair, as if her emotions had completely overpowered 
 her ; " whisht ! and tell me, whose rosary is this ? 
 
 "Father John^s — he lent it to me when I lost my 
 mother’s. 
 
 " Good God ! ” exclaimed the afflicted woman, cov- 
 ering her face with her hands, " this rosary was once 
 mine.” 
 
 " Yours ! ” 
 
 " Ay, ay ; I brought it with me from the West Indees, 
 and give it to ould priest Gallaher of Gortnaglen, Father 
 John’s uncle. Augh, hoch, it lucks ould and worn now 
 like myself ; ” and the unfortunate woman burst into 
 tears. 
 
 " I wish it had grown old and worn in your own 
 hands. Else, dear,” said Mary, sitting beside her, and 
 pushing back the gray hairs from her wrinkled forehead. 
 " 1 wish it had. Else, for then your long life had been 
 better and happier.” 
 
 " Ma}^ be so.” 
 
 " How consoling to reflect, in your old days, you had 
 served God faithfully! ” 
 
 " It’s useless to think of that now, alanna ; I’m lost.” 
 
 " Lost ! 0, God forbid. Only forgive your enemies, 
 
 and God will forgive you. Think how he forgave the 
 Jews who put him to death ; think how he forgave Mag- 
 dalen and the penitent thief.” 
 
 " Child,” said Else, with a smile that made Mary 
 shudder — it expressed so plainly the depth of her de- 
 spair ; " child, you speak only of sinners, but I’m a 
 devil.” 
 
 " No, no, don’t smile and speak to me so ; you are 
 not, you are not,” cried Mary, clinging to her old nurse’s 
 
THE YANKEE IN IKELAND. 
 
 287 
 
 neck ; you never could love as you loved me, and be 
 so wicked. 0, never speak those awful words again, 
 Else ; they terrify me. No, no, you are not so wicked. 
 You are not lost ; the friend of the poor orphan can 
 ^never be lost.^^ 
 
 As Mary was yet speaking', a knock came, and Koger 
 O^Shaughnessy presented himself at the door. He had 
 been engaged, it would seem, burnishing up the old silver 
 salver, for he held the precious relic under his arm, and 
 had pushed the chamois leather, with which he had been 
 rubbing it, into the breast pocket of his old bottle-green 
 coat. 
 
 What now, Roger ? Has Mr. Lee returned ? 
 
 Not yet, plaze your ladyship, replied Roger, bow- 
 ing respectfully. 0, it^s only Else Curley, he added, 
 correcting himself; I thought you had company. No, 
 he^s not come back yet ; and I wish he was, for there^s 
 strangers approachin, and not as much as a bit or a sup 
 in the house fit to offer them. I wish to goodness theyM 
 stay at home. I declare I don't know what they want 
 down here, the half o^ them.^^ 
 
 '' Never mind, Roger ; receive them at the door, and 
 show them in.^^ 
 
 '' Indeed, then, I won’t, plaze yer ladys^lip,” replied 
 Roger ; '' they’ll have to find the way themselves ; and 
 if they’re any of the master’s acquaintances, you know, 
 they’ll not expect an}^ thing, ’hem ! if you only hint, 
 ahem ! that the butler’s not at home.” 
 
 '' Very well, Roger; do as you please.” 
 
 And now,” said Mary, turning to Else, ^'you prom- 
 ise to tell these beads to-night under the invocation of 
 the Blessed Virgin. Do you promise ? ” 
 
 '' Ay, ay, ay. I’ll say them to plaze ye,” replied Else ; 
 '^but it’s of little valie they’ll be, for I haven’t bent a 
 knee to God since afore you were born.” 
 
 ''No matter. God is merciful. He has converted 
 worse hearts than yours. Offer your prayers to-night. 
 Else, and who knows but the old rosary, once so familiar 
 to your touch, with God’s good grace, may awaken 
 
288 
 
 MARY LEE, OR 
 
 those better and nobler feelings which so long have lain 
 dormant in your heart/^ 
 
 God be with ye, child, said Else, tenderly kissing 
 the forehead of the gentle girl. God be with you, 
 asthore, I tould ye my intintion, that ye^d know what 
 happened me, if the worst comes to the worst. 
 
 have no fear of that, dear nurse; there^s still a 
 bright spot in your soul to redeem it from the sins that 
 cloud it, were they as numerous as the sands of Arahee- 
 ra. Go, and remember your promise. 
 
 Ay, ay, 1^11 remirnber it ; and so saying, the old soli- 
 tary of Benraven wrapped her gray cloak about her 
 shoulders, and passed from the room. 
 
 After paying a visit to the little cabin boy, and finding 
 him still asleep, but apparently much easier, Mary ap- 
 proached a window that looked out upon the iron bridge, 
 and the narrow road leading to the village of Araheera. 
 She expected to see the strangers, whom Eoger had an- 
 nounced, coming down the hill ; but they had already 
 passed the gate, and entered the lighthouse yard. Else 
 Curley^s tall form was the only object she could see, hur- 
 rying back to the Cairn, accompanied by Nannie, who 
 had waited for her, as usual, outside, and now went 
 bleating and trotting after her. 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 289 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 Lanty takes the Loan of Miss Hardwrinkle, and carries 
 her off on a Pillion, — Else feels certain she has discov- 
 ered a Clew to the Mystery, 
 
 When Else reached the Cairn, she was somewhat sur- 
 prised to find the door of her cabin forced open, and the 
 scanty furniture it contained tossed here and there, as if 
 somebody had been searching the house. Lighting a rush 
 candle without further delay, and inserting it in the wooden 
 candlestick attached to her spinning wheel, she threw off 
 her gray cloak, and took a hasty survey of the room. 
 Her first glance was at the hearthstone under which 
 Randall Barry had so mysteriously disappeared, when 
 Nannie’s bleat announced the presence of Hardwrinkle’s 
 detectives ; the second, at the cupboard, concealed in the 
 thickness of the wall, from which she furnished the widg- 
 eon and wine to her young friend before setting out on 
 his perilous journey to Arranmore. Both, however, had 
 escaped discovery ; at least, there was no visible mark 
 of their having been suspected or examined. Satisfied, 
 apparently, v^ith these observations. Else drew over her 
 creepie-stool, and sat down to build a fire for the night. 
 Hardly had she touched the tongs, however, for that 
 purpose, when a piece of closely folded paper fell from 
 them on the ashes. 
 
 Humph ! ” ejaculated the old woman, picking it up ; 
 ** what can this be ? From Lanty, I’ll warrint ; it’s like 
 his contrivin, to put it in the joint o’ the tongs ; ” and 
 hitching over the creepie nearer to the wheel, she brought 
 the piece of crumpled paper close to the dim light, and 
 read as follows : — 
 
 Och, thin, sweet, bad luck to ye, my ould darlint ; 
 isn’t this the purty pickle ye got me into ? The hole 
 country’s out afther me, and here I am waitin for ye this 
 25 
 
290 MARY LEE, OR 
 
 half hour, with Miss Hard wrinkle sighin and sobhin on 
 the pillion at yer doore. Upon my conscience iUs hung 
 ye ought to be, to thrate me this way afther all the 
 promises ye made to stay at home. But naboklish, 1^11 
 be even with ye yit. Else, if I only live to get over the 
 amplush I^m in. Of coorse Pm expectin to be shot 
 every other minit, for the polis is afther me in all direc- 
 shins. As for the damsel herself, 0 hierna! mortial ears 
 niver heerd the bate of her. Her schreechin brought 
 out ivery livin soul atween here and Ballymagahey. 
 SheM listen naither to rime or raison. I tried to soother 
 her, but ye might as well try to soother a weasel. Bad 
 scran to the haporth, she did but squeal and spit at me 
 all the time. Thin I tried to raison with her. I tould 
 her I hadn^t the laste bad intintion in life, it bein only 
 the loan of her I was takin in a dacent way, till a friend 
 of mine got over his throuble. That made her worse. 
 She wudnT even stop to listen to me. Bad luck to me, 
 Else, if iver I met so onraisonable a female since the 
 hour I was born. Atween scripthur and schreechin, she 
 has nearly driven me out of my senses. Hould ! whisht ! 
 there, by all that^s bad, she^s at it again as hard as iver. 
 0, Heaven forgive ye. Else Curley, for the throuble Pm 
 in on your account this blissed day. But I can^t stay 
 another minit. Pm off again over the mountain ; and 
 remimber if any thing happens me, yeTl find her lady- 
 ship at Molshin Kelly^s of Carlinmore. No more at 
 
 present, but remain your obedient, 
 
 ^ Lanty Hanlon. 
 
 ''Note bene. As ye valie yer life, keep close to 
 Mary.^^ 
 
 " Hegh ! ’’ ejaculated Else, throwing the paper on the 
 ashes again. " Hegh ! but Pm sorry I didiPt get a 
 hoult of ye, ye spawn of the sarpint. Hah, I’d tache 
 ye a lesson ye’d remimber till the clay covered ye. 
 Little ye thought who was watchin ye this mornin, when 
 ye went to Ballymagahey with yer tracts. Little ye 
 thought who the ould woman was that passed for the 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 291 
 
 widow with the three twins — the poor, desarted crathur, 
 that’s dyin with the curse of herself and her dead hus- 
 band on yer back. Hah ! hah ! Randall Barry, ye’ll not 
 have so many constables to guard ye the morrow, while 
 such a high-bred dame as Rebecca Hardwrinkle’s to be 
 sought and found. Ay, Robert, ye’ll want more peelers 
 than ye can spare, to guard your prisoner, or I’m far out 
 of my reckonin.. Devil as ye are, ye have yer match for 
 wunst. And now do yer best, ye black-hearted villain ; 
 do yer best, and niver fear, ivery time you play the 
 Knave I’ll strike with the Five-fingers.” 
 
 Else was here interrupted in her soliloquy by the ap- 
 proach of footsteps, and turning on her creepie, seemed 
 somewhat surprised to see the tall but stooping form of 
 Roger O’Shaughnessy entering the cabin. 
 
 Humph I what now?” she demanded; ''anything 
 wrong at the lighthouse, that yer here so soon ? ” 
 
 "No, nothin to speak of; ” replied Roger, familiarly 
 taking a seat, and stroking down the few gray hairs that 
 remained, with the palms of his hands. "No, nothing in 
 particular. Only the constables are there after Mr. Lee,” 
 responded Roger. 
 
 " Humph ! so they’re come at last, are they ? ” 
 
 " And so,” continued Roger, " I thought, as they 
 cudn’t do much harm in the master’s absence. I’d step up 
 at my . leisure to Mr. Guirkie’s, and see if he’d buy this 
 picthur. If it brings only a couple of pounds atself you 
 know, we might lay in a dozen or two of chape wine — 
 Cape Madeira or so, to keep up the credit of the place.” 
 
 As the old man spoke, he drew from beneath his coat 
 a small oil painting, and laid it on the table beside him. 
 
 " What is this ? ” exclaimed Else, looking at it for a 
 moment. " Roger, it is her mother’s portrait. You 
 shan’t sell it.” 
 
 " I know ; but, ahem ! it’s only a copy.” 
 
 " Copy or not, ye can’t sell it.” 
 
 "We can’t starve, either,” said Roger, apologetically. 
 
 " Starve 1 ” 
 
 " Of course, when there’s nothing left.” 
 
292 
 
 MAKY LEE, OB 
 
 '' Hoot I nonsense ! yer always complaining' 
 
 '' Bedad, then, may be Tve raison enough to complain, 
 when the bacon's all gone, and not as much as the smell 
 of wine or whiskey within the walls of the house. It's 
 aisy for you to talk. Else ; but if ye had the credit o' the 
 family to maintain, and nothin to maintain it with — " 
 ''Yer not so bad off as that, Koger, altogether, eh ? 
 Have yer nothin at all left after the bacon ? " 
 
 " J^othin to speak of. There's some chickens, to be 
 sure, but — " 
 
 " Some chickens. Is there no sheep ? " 
 
 " Ahem ! sheep ; well, ay, three weeny wethers, but 
 there's not a bit on their bones. Surely three poor, 
 weakly wethers is a small dependence through the long 
 winter. As for the bits o' picthurs, the poor child could 
 do nothing at them since that weary cabin boy came ; 
 and, in troth, it went hard enough on me. Else, to see 
 the young creature workin away, from mornin till night, 
 unbeknown to her uncle, tryin to earn with her brush 
 what'd buy little necessaries for the house, when she 
 ought to be roulin in her coach, with her footman behind 
 her. Och hoch ! Else, it's a poor day whin I'm driven to 
 make lyin excuses to sich gentry as the Johnsons and 
 Whatelys, in regard to the house. God be good to us, 
 it's little I thought, forty years ago, when I ust to 
 announce to Lady Lambton, and Lord Hammersly, and 
 Marquis — " 
 
 " Stop, Roger Shaughnessy — stop yer claverin," inter- 
 rupted Else, lighting her pipe ; " yer niver done braggin 
 about yer lords and ladies." 
 
 "Ahem! braggin — bedad, it's no braggin. Else, but 
 the truth, and not the whole o' that same aither, let me 
 tell ye. Ahem ! may be, when I ust to get seventeen 
 pipes o' the best wine — " 
 
 " Hoot ! hould yer tongue. Here, take a draw o' this 
 till I scrape up some supper. I have a journey afore me, 
 and I can't delay a minute longer." 
 
 "Well, ye may think as ye plaze, Else," said Roger, 
 taking the pipe from his venerable companion, " but 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 293 
 
 they’re changed times with us any way, when them that 
 wunst thought a castle too small to resaive their company 
 must now starve in a dissolit lighthouse. Ochone ! 
 ochone ! the good ould times, when we ust to think nothin 
 of fifty coaches of an evenin, drivin into the court-yard.” 
 Hoot ! man, make it a hundher at wunst,” said Else ; 
 what signifies a score or two, in or over ? ” 
 
 Well, may I niver do harm. Else — ” 
 
 Whist, hedhahushty I say. Pm in no humor now to listen 
 to such foolery. I ought to be on the road by this time ; ” 
 and advancing to the cupboard, she drew down an oaten 
 bannock from a shelf, and breaking it into several pieces, 
 consigned it to her pocket. Then bringing the silver- 
 mounted pistol she was in the habit of carrying on her 
 journeys, close to the light, she examined the priming, 
 and finding it satisfactory, thrust it into her bosom. 
 
 There,” she ejaculated, '^yer aisy carried any way; 
 and who knows but ye may be of sarvice afore Randall 
 Barry gets clear of his blood-hounds ? ” 
 
 Where are ye bound for. Else,” inquired Roger, 
 with that waipon about ye ? ” 
 
 That’s my business.” 
 
 Yer not bent on inurdher, I hope.” 
 
 Not if I can help it.” 
 
 Bedad, then,” said Roger, ''I wudn’t trust ye if ye 
 got into one of yer tantrums. Ahem ! yer a dangerous 
 woman. Else, when yer vexed, or, as the ould sayin is, 
 yer a good friend, but a bad inimy. But, Else, cudn’t 
 ye lend us a thrifle o’ that money ye got from the Yankee ! 
 Ahem ! Pd pay it back at the end o’ the quarter.” 
 
 Not a farthin, Roger. Pm keepin that for another 
 purpose.” 
 
 Well, it’s not much I’m askin,” said Roger ; ** only 
 just the price of a dozen o’ wine, and a cheese or two, 
 for the credit o’ the house.” 
 
 Let the house take care of itself,” responded Else, 
 throwing the gray cloak again upon her emaciated 
 shoulders. I’ll have good use for the money afore 
 long, Roger. As to buy cheese with it, or wine aither, 
 25 * 
 
294 
 
 MARY LEE, OR 
 
 I^m afeerd it'd be more likely to buy a rope to hang me 
 for passin it. Ay, ay, Koger, ye'll hear news about that 
 money yet, or I'm greatly mistaken." 
 
 Ahem ! yer in a mighty hurry. Else ; wait till I get 
 the picthur under my coat. Ahem 1 as for a dhrop of 
 any thing, I suppose it's not convanient." 
 
 Humph ! a dhrop of any thing. I thought it'd come 
 to that at last ; " and again opening the cupboard, she 
 drew forth a bottle, and held it for an instant between her 
 and the light. Ay, there's some left," she added, 
 laying it on the table. Drink it, and let me go." 
 
 Roger raised the bottle also, and seeing it nearly full, 
 laid it down again. Ahem 1 ahem ! " said he, stroking 
 down his long gray hairs, and looking wistfully at his 
 companion. '"Ahem! it's a liberty I take. Else, but if 
 ye have no objection, I'll carry it home with me." 
 
 Carry it home ? " 
 
 Yes. Ahem I Captain Petersham and the John- 
 sons'll be down to-morrow, and there's not a dhrop to 
 offer them." 
 
 Take it, then — take it, and away with ye. I ought 
 to be in Crohan by this time." 
 
 Ye might had company," observed Roger, carefully 
 corking the bottle and dropping it into his capacious 
 pocket. Ye might had company if ye only left 
 
 sooner." 
 
 I want none ; the dark night's all the company I 
 seek." 
 
 Well, that blackamore came down with a constable, 
 just afore I left the lighthouse, and took away the boy." 
 
 What, took the boy away in the state he's in ? " 
 
 Troth did they, and without as much as sayin by yer 
 lave atself. The constable had a writ with him signed 
 by Mr. Hard wrinkle." 
 
 Hah, the villain," exclaimed Else ; that's more of 
 his plottin. Was the boy willin to go ? " 
 
 Willin — ye might well say that. The minute he 
 saw the blackamore, he all but jumped out o' bed with 
 joy, and the poor blackamore himself kissed and hugged 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 295 
 
 the little fellow till I thought he^d niver let him go. 
 Bedad, I niver thought them naigers had so much good 
 nature in them afore. 
 
 '' And so he had a writ from Robert Hardwrinkle/’ mut- 
 tered Else, reflectively. Ay, ay, that was the Yan- 
 kee’s doings, I suspect. Humph, I’m beginnin to think, 
 from what Mrs. Motherly tould me about -the nigger, 
 when he first got a glimpse of Weeks, they , must be ould 
 acquaintances, and may be he thought the boy’d tell tales 
 when he recovered his senses. Hah, hah, Robert ! I’m 
 on yer track again. So the bo^’^’s gone.” 
 
 Ay, is he ; and mighty well plazed I am at that 
 same, in regard to Miss Mary, for the crathur cudn’t do 
 a hand’s turn while he staid — but hould,” said Roger, 
 suddenly checking himself, hould ; I’ll wager what ye 
 plaze he tuck the rosary with him.” 
 
 What rosary ? ” demanded Else. 
 
 ''Why, Mary’s mother’s — Mrs. Talbot’s; and I de- 
 clare I niver thought of it till this minute.” 
 
 '• The one with the jewels ? ” 
 
 " Ay. She forgot all about it, I suppose.” 
 
 " Forgot what ? ” 
 
 "That she lent it to him.” 
 
 " She never lent it ; she hadn’t it to lend since the day 
 the Yankee first come to the lighthouse. She mislaid it 
 somewhere that day, and niver could find hilt or hare of 
 it since. Hoot ! ye’re dhramin, Roger.” 
 
 " Dramin — bedad, then, it was a mighty quare drame, 
 when I saw it with my own eyes, and handled it with my 
 own fingers.” 
 
 " Her mother’s rosary ? ” 
 
 " To be sure. How could I mistake it ? Didn’t I see 
 it a hundred times, when we — ahem I when we lived at 
 the castle ? Bedad, Else, it’s not a thing to be aisy 
 mistaken about, for there’s not the like of it in the whole 
 world, but one, and that same’s many a thousand mile 
 from here — if it’s in bein at all.” 
 
 " Ye mane Mr. Talbot’s ? ” 
 
 " Of coorse. They were both as like as two eggs. 
 
296 
 
 MABY LEE, OR 
 
 and presents from the Duchess of Orleans to Edward^s 
 father and mother, when they went to France long ago/' 
 Ay,^' said Else, resuming her seat, and looking up 
 sharply in Roger's face, as if she feared his mind was 
 wandering, — ''ay, 'as like as two eggs/ And where 
 did the boy keep the rosary ? for it's strange I never 
 could see it about him, though with him late and early." 
 
 "Well, ahem!" said Roger, "I must tell ye that. 
 Else, since ye ask me. Ahem I one day last week, as 
 Lanty was going to Rosnakill, I wanted him to bring me 
 a bottle o' wine ; for feen a dhrop was in the house, and 
 we expected company that evenin. Well, it happened 
 Mr. Lee had no money convanient ; and iiaither had 
 Lanty himself, nor Mary ; and I didn't know what in the 
 world to do in the amplush I was in, ’for as luck'd have 
 it, the brandy was out as well as the wine, and not a 
 taste of any thing in the house but a thiifle o' whiskey 
 in the bottom o' the decanter. So, thinks I to myself, 
 since I can do no better. I'll, ahem ! I'll try — may be 
 the cabin boy might happen to have some change in his 
 pockets, and I'll borrow it till he gets well." 
 
 "So ye searched his pockets ? " 
 
 " I did," replied Roger ; " ahem ! It wasn't right, I 
 suppose ; but seein the pinch I was in, I couldn't very 
 well help it." 
 
 " And found the rosary ? " 
 
 " Yes ; sewed in the linins of his waistcoat pocket. I 
 thought first from the hard feel it might be gold pieces, 
 and I ripped it open." 
 
 " Sewed in the linins of his waistcoat ? " repeated 
 Else, pronouncing the words slowly, and gazing vacantly 
 at her companion as she spoke. 
 
 " Ay, she sewed it in herself, I suppose ; thinkin the 
 blissed crucifix might help him in his sickness." 
 
 " Roger Shaughnessy," said the old woman, suddenly 
 rising, after a long pause, during which she kept her 
 eyes unconsciously fixed on him, — '* Roger Shaughnessy, 
 can you swear on the holy evangelist, you seen that 
 rosary in the boy's possession ? " 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 297 
 
 ** Swear ! Of coorse I can. Why, is there any thing 
 strange in that ? Ye seem to be all of a flutther about it.^^ 
 No matter — I have my own mainin for it. Now go 
 you back to the lighthouse, and stay with Mary ; she^s 
 all alone, and needs yer company. I must hurry as fast 
 as I can to Castle Gregory, and then back to Crohan.’^ 
 
 '' The Lord be about us ! exclaimed Roger, as he 
 stood looking at the receding form of the old woman 
 descending the hill. What does she mane now ? 
 There, she’s off to Castle Gregory this hour of the night, 
 and thinks no more of it than a girl would of sixteen. 
 Ahem ! he added, buttoning his coat over the pic- 
 ture, and moving off towards the lighthouse ; '' she^s a 
 wondherful woman. 
 
298 
 
 MARY LEE, OR 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 Uncle Jerry and Mrs. Motherly quarrel^ and the Captain 
 suggests a Means of Reconciliation. 
 
 Upon my word, it^s very strange,’^ said Mr. Guirkie 
 to Father Brennan, as the latter entered the breakfast 
 parlor at Greenmount to make his usual morning visit ; 
 
 I declare it is exceedingly strange.^' 
 
 What^s the matter now ? any thing new since last 
 night ? inquired the priest. 
 
 No ; but that abduction of Miss Hard wrinkle — Mrs. 
 Motherly has just returned from the post oflSce, and says 
 there are no tidings of her yet. What in the world could 
 the fellow mean by carrying her off ? 
 
 '' You’ll soon find that out, 1 suspect. Lanty seldom 
 plays a trick without an object.” 
 
 '' You think Lanty’s the man, then, without doubt?” 
 
 '"Certainly — no other would attempt it;” and the 
 priest picked up a newspaper, and familiarly took a seat 
 at the window. 
 
 " Why, God bless me, if Robert Hard wrinkle gets hold 
 of the unfortunate fellow, he’ll transport him,” said Uncle 
 Jerry, pacing the room uneasily, and bobbing the tail of 
 his morning gown up and down as usual. " He certainly 
 will transport him — eh ? ” 
 
 " Never mind. Lanty can take care of himself. With 
 all his recklessness he manages to keep clear of the hang- 
 man. Ten chances to one, if caught with the lady in his 
 custody, he would make it appear he was only taking her 
 home.” 
 
 " Just so. I wouldn’t doubt it in the least,” assented 
 Uncle Jerry; "the fellow’s capable of doing any thing. 
 In fact, he has imposed on myself a hundred times. No 
 later than last week the rogue sold me hare’s ear and 
 crottle, not worth a brass farthing — ” 
 
 " Ha, ha ! ” laughed the priest, you’re beginning to 
 find him out at last.” 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 299 
 
 Well, but after all, the villain has something in him 
 one can^t help liking. He^s full of tricks, to be sure, but 
 still he^s honest in his own way. I wish to Heaven he 
 was out of the county for a while, at all events ; for if 
 he stay here that serpent will destroy him.'^ 
 
 Who ? Robert Hard wrinkle ? 
 
 Yes ; lie^ll follow him like a blood-hound. But, by 
 the by, I had almost forgotten. What of your young 
 friend Barry ? Will he be committed ? 
 
 I fear it. Captain Petersham says he caiPt help 
 committing him. The case is so clear there’s no possi- 
 bility of getting over it.” 
 
 '' Poor fellow ! I’m sorry for him, and I’m very sorry 
 on Mary Lee’s account. Can’t nothing be done to save 
 him — eh ? ” 
 
 "'Nothing — the sergeant of police here — Mullen, 
 who is really a very honest, decent fellow — says he must 
 identify him.” 
 
 " They say he’s a fine young man, this Barry.” 
 
 " Very much so, indeed. He’s as handsome and high- 
 minded a lad as ye could meet with any where. But like 
 all young men in love, he is very imprudent. So much 
 so indeed, that I often think he must have been crazy 
 to act as he has. The idea of his running the gantlet 
 through all the constables and spies between here and 
 Cork, with a reward of five hundred pounds for his head, 
 merely to see a foolish young girl, is so provoking to 
 all who feel an interest in his welfare, that — ” 
 
 "Hush, hush ! Father John ! nonsense 1 say no more 
 about that. Love’s a thing you’re not competent to 
 speak of, you know. It’s out of your line altogether. 
 So far from thinking the less of him for his imprudence, I 
 think the more of him. But apropos of the Lees,” he 
 added, throwing up his spectacles and halting before the 
 priest; " have you found out who they are, or what they 
 are ? ” 
 
 "No, sir ; so far as regards their family connections, 
 
 I know no more about them than you know yourself.” 
 
 " I declare I It’s very strange. I can find no one to 
 
300 
 
 MARY LEE, OR 
 
 give me the least information respecting the family. I 
 tried once to draw something from Kate Petersham, she^s 
 so intimate there ; but the young baggage was as close 
 as an oyster. As for Eoger, I darn^t venture to approach 
 the subject, lest he take alarm ; and then he would never 
 come to sell me a picture again. But have you no con- 
 ception of what the mystery is ? It can't be murder, I 
 suppose.'^ 
 
 0, no ; nothing of that nature. It means, I suppose, 
 that Mr. Lee got embarrassed in his money affairs, and 
 left home for a time to avoid his creditors — that's all, I 
 suspect." 
 
 Poor fellow," said Uncle Jerry ; it's a pity of him." 
 
 It is indeed a great pity ; for he's an honorable, gen- 
 erous-hearted man as I've met in many a year." 
 
 God comfort him," ejaculated Uncle Jerry again, 
 twirling his thumbs as he looked through the window. 
 
 0, dear! 0, dear — what a poor sight, to see a high- 
 minded, well-bred gentleman like him reduced so low — 
 so low as to trim oil lamps for a living ! " 
 
 It's hard." 
 
 Hard 1 Why, only think of it. Here am I, a misera- 
 ble, good-for-nothing old imbecile, without kith or kin in 
 the world, and yet plenty of money in my purse, and a 
 comfortable house to live in, whilst down there in the 
 black binns of Araheera there's a gentleman of birth and 
 education, with an angel of a child to take care of, and 
 not a shilling in his pocket to buy the common necessaries 
 of life. I declare it's awful." 
 
 The ways of God are wonderful." 
 
 Wonderful ? I tell you what. Father Brennan, one 
 must be well fortified by religion to bear up against it. 
 A beautiful girl like Mary Lee, pining away in poverty 
 and solitude, working, working, night and day, night and 
 day, at her easel to earn a morsel of bread, and I a worn- 
 out old fellow, doing nothing, nay, occupying some use- 
 ful body's place in the world, when I should have been 
 kicked out of it long ago. Why, sir, it's outrageous to 
 think of it. It's actually outrageous." 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 301 
 
 '' Stop, stop — take care, Mr. Giiirkie,^^ said the priest ; 
 '^you talk too fast.^^ 
 
 '' Sir, it would provoke any man. I say if Aristotle 
 were a saint, it would provoke him ; and Uncle Jerry 
 rose and pushed back the chair violently. 
 
 '' But this is taking God Almighty to task, Mr. Guir- 
 kie. You should remember he orders every thing for the 
 best, and that inscrutable are his judgments, and un- 
 searchable his ways.^’ 
 
 I know that. I know God is good, and I know all 
 that seems strange to us now will be fully explained here- 
 after, of course. Why, if I didn’t believe that, I wouldn’t 
 put up with it half the time.” 
 
 ''Ha, ha!” laughed the priest — "put up with it? 
 You haven’t much to put up with, I should think ? ” 
 
 "No matter for that ; I have my own feelings, and you 
 know very well. Father John — ” Here Mr. Guirkie 
 was interrupted by the entrance of Mrs. Motherly. 
 
 " Humph ! may I beg to know, ma’am,” said he, turn- 
 ing half round and looking angrily at his respectable 
 housekeeper, — “ may I beg to know why we are inter- 
 rupted ? ” 
 
 " It’s no offence, I hope, to come with a message,” 
 said Mrs. Motherly, deprecatingly. " I niver thought 
 it was.” 
 
 " Didn’t you ? It’s no matter what you thought.” 
 
 " Don’t be unkind to the good woman,” said Father 
 John, who understood Mr. Guirkie well, and knew all his 
 little weaknesses respecting Mrs. Motherly. "Don’t be 
 unkind to her, Mr. Guirkie. She is a very excellent 
 woman, is Mrs. Motherly.” 
 
 " Humph — good enough, if she only knew her place. 
 But I protest against her inveterate habit of interrupting 
 me when I have company. I shan’t tolerate it, sir, any 
 longer.” 
 
 "Just listen to that. Father John, when he knows in 
 his heart. and soul it’s his own story he’s tellin.” 
 
 " My own story, woman ? ” 
 
 "Yes, sir; jest yer own story. For ye niver have 
 
 26 
 
302 
 
 MARY LEE, OR 
 
 company in the house but ye thrate me this way. There^s 
 no livin with ye, when there’s any body to the fore.” 
 
 And how is it when he’s alone ? ” 
 
 He’s as quiet as a lamb, your reverence.” 
 
 It’s false,” said Mr. Guirkie ; '' I say it’s false. 
 
 False I 0, the Lord pardon ye, sir, the Lord pardon 
 ye, for beliein yerself ; for I’d take it to my death. Father 
 Brennan, there’s not a quieter nor a kinder man livin, 
 when he’s by himself.” 
 
 Indeed ! ” said the priest, emphasizing the word, and 
 looking significantly at Mr. Guirkie. '' Ho ! ho I that’s 
 the way of it ! ” 
 
 Pray what do you mean, Mr. Brennan ? ” demanded 
 Uncle Jerry. 
 
 0, nothing, nothing particular. I was merely think- 
 ing of what Captain Petersham says of you and Mrs. 
 Motherly.” 
 
 '' Of me and Mrs. Motherly ? ” repeated Uncle Jerry. 
 
 '' Of me and Mr. Guirkie ? ” echoed Mrs. Motherly. 
 
 What could he say of me, yer reverence ? I defy him 
 to say any thing of me but what’s dacent.” 
 
 Of course you do, Mrs. Motherly. You have always 
 been, since you came to reside in my parish, an honest, 
 respectable woman. Captain Petersham, when he spoke 
 of you and Mr. Guirkie, never pretended to insinuate — ” 
 
 '' 0, I dar him to it,” exclaimed the good woman ; I 
 dar him to it ; and he’ll be here face to face afore many 
 minutes, for the message I came with was from his groom 
 that he’d call here on his return from the barracks. I’ll 
 dar him to^ay any thing against my karacter. Och, och, 
 it’d be a poor day with me to hear my name now in the 
 mouth of the people, after livin fourteen long years a 
 widow, without man or mortal ever presuming to throw 
 dirt at my door. Hierna! the Lord be about us- — to 
 spake of Mr. Guirkie and me in the same breath ! ” 
 
 My good woman,” said the priest, rising from his 
 chair and approching her, *'you take this quite too seri- 
 ously.” 
 
 Well, listen to me, yer reverence, for a minute.” 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 303 
 
 No, no, not now — some other time — it^s all a joke, 
 you know/’ 
 
 Joke ! but I’ll let neither man or woman joke with 
 my karacter. Father Brennan. I’ll not lie under it, sir. 
 Mr. Guirkie’s a good man, sir, and a dacent man, and has 
 the good will of rich and poor ; but may I niver cross that 
 flure again, if he had the vartues of all the saints in the 
 collinder, and all the gold in the Bank of England to boot, 
 if I’d ever as much as think of him, barrin as I ought to 
 do, and as it becomes my place to do. I know he’s kind 
 to me, sir, and very kind to me — ” 
 
 Quit the room, ma’am,” commanded Uncle Jerry; 
 quit the room instantly ; ” and snatching the spectacles 
 from his face, he motioned with them to the door. Kind 
 to you, indeed ! I command you to quit the room.” 
 
 ** And yer house too,” replied Mrs. Motherly, raising 
 her apron to her eyes. '^0, dear, 0, dear! isn’t it a 
 poor thing that an ould woman like me can’t button her 
 master’s leggins, or tie his cravat, but he’ll suspect her 
 of thinking of what she never dreamt of ? ” 
 
 I suspect you I ” 
 
 Ay, just you, Mr. Guirkie ; for I believe in my heart 
 no one else could ever make up such a story. I don’t 
 deny that I liked ye for a master in spite of all yer odd 
 ways, and that I tried to take care of you, when I seen 
 ye couldn’t take care of yourself; but it’s little I thought 
 ye’d conster my kindness in the way ye did.” 
 
 ^'Listen,” said Uncle Jerry, running his hands under 
 his skirts, and bending towards his housekeeper; '^may 
 I beg to be informed whether I am master in this house ; 
 and if so, why you don’t quit the room when I command 
 you.” 
 
 As for this cruel tnratement, after so many years slavin 
 and workin for ye, night and day,” continued the weep- 
 ing widow, without paying the least attention to her 
 master’s request, I forgive ye for it. I do indeed, for- 
 give ye from my heart and soul.” 
 
 You’re resolved, then, not to quit the room ; eh, 
 have you actually made up your mind not to leave ? ” 
 
304 
 
 MARY LEE, OR 
 
 Och, hoch ! yeM be dead in yer grave many a year 
 ago, Mr. Guirkie, only for the way I watched ye ; for, 
 yer reverence, ye know yourself, the poor man has no 
 more wit nor a child — 
 
 '' Humph ! I see you won^t go, Mrs. Motherly. Very 
 well, then,^^ said Uncle Jerry; I shall. Let me pass.^^ 
 
 As he rushed through the entrance hall, his slippers 
 clattering against his heels, and his spectacles swinging 
 from his fingers, the hall door opened, and Captain Peters- 
 ham entered whip in hand. 
 
 Soh, ho ! what now ? 
 
 Good morning, sir,^^ responded Uncle Jerry, bowing 
 stiffly. 
 
 '' You^re excited, Mr. Guirkie, eh ? WhaUs the mat- 
 ter ? 
 
 Excited ! can^t I get excited in my own house, if I 
 please, Captain Petersham, without being obliged to ac- 
 count for it ? 
 
 Undoubtedly, sir, most undoubtedly. Why not ? 
 
 That is,^' said Uncle Jerry, correcting himself, '"that 
 is, if Pm master of the house ; but it seems I am not. 
 My housekeeper, Mrs. Motherly, there, is master ; and 
 he glanced back at the parlor door. 
 
 Ho, ho ! it^s only a lovers’ quarrel, then. Come, 
 come, Mr. Guirkie, you musn’t get angry with Mrs. 
 Motherly ; if the good woman grows jealous of you now 
 and then, you must try to conciliate her, you know, the 
 best way you can.” 
 
 Captain Petersham, your language is offensive,” said 
 Uncle Jerry, and I shan’t put up with it any longer.” 
 
 And, Captain Petersham, you must clear my karacter 
 this very minute,” sobbed Mrs. Motherly, coming up from 
 the parlor with her apron to her eyes, followed by Father 
 John. ^'I’m a lone woman, sir, and have nothing but 
 my karacter to depend on.” 
 
 '' By the Lord Harry,” exclaimed the captain, looking 
 from one to the other, '^here’s a pretty piece of work. 
 Ho, ho I and Father Brennan, too. By George, sir, 
 you’re the very man. You can settle the whole affair in 
 a jiffy.” 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 305 
 
 How so ? 
 
 '' Why, marry them at once, sir. Marry them in- 
 stantly. Nothing else will ever put a stop to their love 
 quarrels. 
 
 Mr. Guirkie, on hearing this, could contain himself no 
 longer. Captain Petersham, he cried, I shall not 
 ask you to quit my house, for nobody ever did quit it yet 
 at my request, and nobody ever will, I suppose ; but, 
 sir, ril leave you and your friends to occupy the prem- 
 ises. For my part, I leave this neighborhood to-morrow, 
 and seek for some place where I can live in peace. 
 
 '' Mr. Guirkie, are you mad ? said Father John, stop- 
 ing him as he turned the handle of the hall door. 
 
 Gentlemen, dear, don^t let him go out without his 
 cap,^' said Mrs. Motherly ; and them slippers of his, 
 sure they’re no betther than brown paper — he’ll ketch his 
 death of cold. 0, Merna! hiernal^^ 
 
 '' Mr. Brennan, am I to consider myself a prisoner in 
 my own house ? ” demanded Mr. Guirkie. Say yes or 
 no, sir, at once, and be done with it.” 
 
 As the priest was about to reply, the clatter of horses’ 
 feet was heard approaching, and next instant Kate Peters- 
 ham, mounted on Moll Pitcher,” came cantering into 
 the court-yard, and reining up at the door, jumped from 
 the saddle. 
 
 '' Mr. Guirkie, a word with you,” she said, taking his 
 arm, and leading him back to the parlor ; as for you. 
 Father John, I must see you before the trial comes on.” 
 
 26 * 
 
306 
 
 MARY LEE, OR 
 
 CHAPTEE XXV, 
 
 Mrs. Motherly j before quitting the House forever j wishes to 
 leave some Directions about her Master"* s Flannels. — 
 Mr. Guirkie, in the mean time, sheds Tears over the 
 Portrait of Mary*s Mother. — His first Love and his 
 last. 
 
 It was now approaching noon — the hour at which the 
 neighboring justices of the peace usually assembled in 
 the little court house at Tamney, to hold their petit ses- 
 sion once a fortnight. Already the court-yard was filled 
 with men, women, and boys, (a thing of very rare occur- 
 rence in that remote and peaceable district,) eagerly 
 talking in groups, here and there, about something in 
 which they seemed to take a more than ordinary share 
 of interest. Two or three policemen, whom Hardwrin- 
 kle had ordered from the next town, to take charge 
 of the barrack in the absence of its proper occupants, 
 now in search of his sister among the glens of Benra- 
 ven, were pacing up and down before the grated win- 
 dows, anxiously awaiting the arrival of the magistrates. 
 To judge from the smothered imprecations of some 
 among the crowd, and the more significant gesticula- 
 tions of others, one might easily suspect there was mis- 
 chief brewing. Here and there a stalwart fellow might 
 be seen hitching up his pantaloons, and spitting on his 
 shillaleh, as he clutched it in his brawny hand ; and now 
 and then a boy would jump to a seat on the low stone wall 
 that enclosed the court-yard, with pockets well stuffed, 
 and more than usually heavy. The fear of the law, and 
 the presence of the police, small as the force was, had 
 the natural effect of preventing, for the present, actual 
 breach of peace ; but still it was easy to see that some- 
 thing serious was likely to take place before the close of 
 the proceedings. One individual in particular seemed 
 very busy amongst the crowd, apparently giving orders 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 307 
 
 and directions. This was a woman of tall stature, wear- 
 ing a gray cloak, with the hood drawn over, but behind 
 which, notwithstanding its depth of shade, several white 
 elf locks were plainly visible. The reader will at once 
 recognize in this personage our old acquaintance. Else 
 Curley, of the Cairn. Still erect and lithe as a sapling, 
 though the snows of eighty winters had passed over her 
 head, she made her way through the throng of men and 
 women, with a step as firm as when she trod the battle 
 field on the heights of Madeira, forty years before. Nor 
 had she lost entirely, either, that imposing presence, 
 which in her younger daj^s must have stamped her as a 
 remarkable woman. Age, it is true, had furrowed her 
 skin, and pinched her cheeks with its iron fingers ; but 
 the bold forehead and the deep-set gray eye were there 
 yet, to tell of her resolute and indomitable will. As she 
 turned from side to side to deliver her commands, the 
 women and boys fell back and gazed at her with fear, 
 and the strongest men there shrank from her touch, as 
 they felt her hard, bony hand upon their shoulders. 
 
 Suddenly a horseman appeared in sight, cantering on 
 from the direction of Greenmount cottage ; and instantly 
 the cry rose that Captain Petersham was corning. Then 
 the crowd began to sway to and fro, the boys to jump 
 from their seats on the low wall, and the policemen to 
 shoulder their muskets. But they were doomed to be 
 disappointed ; for the horseman, on nearer approach, 
 proved to be only one of the captain^s grooms, who, 
 riding up to the gate, beckoned to a constable, and hand- 
 ing him a warrant, commanded him, in his master^s name, 
 to execute it without delay. 
 
 The man seemed to hesitate for a moment after read- 
 ing the document. 
 
 The captain^s orders are, that you proceed to Crohan 
 House instantly, said the groom, '' and bring the boy 
 into court. 
 
 ‘‘ Yes ; but I don^t feel at liberty to quit my post,^^ 
 replied the constable. '' Our force is small. 
 
 As you please,’^ said the servant; '‘1 have delivered 
 
308 
 
 MARY LEE, OR 
 
 my orders ; and wheeling round, without further parley, 
 he galloped back to Greenmount. 
 
 ^^Well, Thomas, demanded the captain, meeting the 
 groom at the door, ''you handed the warrant to one of 
 the guard — has he gone to execute it ? 
 
 "No, sir ; he seems to have scruples about quitting 
 his post/^ 
 
 " Scruples ! ho, ho ! Is that the way of it ? Scruples ! 
 Look here, sir ; ride back, and tell him for me, jf he don^t 
 start within sixty seconds from the time you reach him, 
 ITl have him in irons ten minutes after. Begone now, 
 and hurry back to report. 
 
 " The scoundrel ! he continued, plucking off his sea 
 cap, and rubbing up his curly hair, as the servant rode 
 off ; " the sneaking scoundrel ! ITl thin off his constables 
 for him ! By the Lord Harry, heTl not involve me in his 
 villanies, if I can help it. It^s most atrocious. What ! 
 send a fine, gallant young fellow like that to the hulks 
 or the gallows, because he loves his country more than 
 his king ? ITl be hanged if I do it, so long as I can 
 throw an obstacle in the way.’^ 
 
 " Captain, said a voice behind him, "if it^s plazin^ to 
 yer honor — 
 
 " Hilloa ! who’s here ? What ! Mrs. Motherly — and 
 still in tears ? Come, come, go to your room, woman, 
 and get reconciled. Away ! You’re as great a fool as 
 your master ! ” 
 
 " Indeed, then, that’s the truest word ye said yet, cap- 
 tain ; for if I wasn’t a greater fool, I wouldn’t stay with 
 him. But there’s an end to it now, any way.” 
 
 " End to what ? ” 
 
 " I’ll leave him ; that’s all.” 
 
 " Nonsense ! ” 
 
 "Indeed, then, I will, sir; I’ll niver sleep another 
 night in this house. My heart’s been a-breakin with him 
 every day these five years, but it’s broken now, out and 
 out. 0, wmastru, winastru ! and this is the thanks I’m 
 gettin after workin and slavin for him early and late. 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 309 
 
 night and mornin, every hour since I first darkened his 
 doors. But sure it’s all past and gone now, any way.” 
 
 '^Hold your peace, woman, and go to your room in- 
 stantly. Mr. Guirkie is too good for you. Away, and 
 thank God you have such a master.” 
 
 '' 0, it’s little yer honor knows about him, captain. 
 ■^Jy ^Jy little you know about him, poor man. Och, 
 hoch, dear, if ye lived in the same house with him, as I 
 did these five long years ! But no matter now, sure. 
 God forgive him as I forgive him ; and that he may 
 live long and die happy is all the harm I wish him. 
 And now I wash my hands of him forevermore. I’ll 
 never — ” 
 
 '' Mrs. Motherly ! ” 
 
 0, it’s no use, it’s no use, captain. I can’t stay, 
 nor I won’t stay. If ye went down on yer bended knees 
 to me, I’ll never close an eye under his roof. And now 
 let him find one that’ll tie his cravat, and button his leg- 
 gings, and bathe his feet, as faithfully and constantly as 
 I did for these five long, weary years ; and if he does, 
 then all I have to say is, let him forget there ever was 
 born in this world such a woman as Nancy Motherly.” 
 
 Captain Petersham, have the goodness to step this 
 way,” said Father Brennan, opening the parlor door, 
 and interrupting the conversation, much to the captain’s 
 relief. f 
 
 The disconsolate housekeeper entreated his honor to 
 wait and listen to her, but all in vain. 
 
 Why, how now,” exclaimed the latter, throwing his 
 portly person on the sofa, and glancing round the room ; 
 
 all alone, eh? — where have they gone — Kate and 
 Mr. Guirkie ? ” 
 
 ** Hush ! don’t speak so loud. They’re all three in- 
 side, there.” 
 
 All three — who’s the third ? ” 
 
 One you would never dream of seeing here — Roger 
 O’Shaughnessy.” 
 
 0, it’s Roger, is it ? ” 
 
310 
 
 MAEY LEE, Oil 
 
 Yes ; the old man, it appears, came up this morning 
 from the lighthouse to sell a picture to Mr. Guirkie.^^ 
 
 A picture ? 
 
 '' Mary, you know, has quite a taste for painting, and 
 Roger^s her salesman.’^ 
 
 Poor thing ! 
 
 Only for that, the family had suffered long ago.^^ 
 '"You astonish me ; are they really so very desti- 
 tute ? 
 
 So I^m informed. Indeed, from what I have seen 
 and know myself, I believe they must be reduced as low 
 as they can be, and live.^^ 
 
 God bless me ! 
 
 Why, I thought Kate had told you of it.^^ 
 
 No. She said something, I remember, of their be- 
 ing poor, and all that, but never hinted at any danger of 
 their suffering. By the Lord Harry, sir, this can^t be. 
 It shan^t be. The thought of Mary Lee in distress ac- 
 tually frightens me.^^ 
 
 And then, she^s so patient and gentle,^^ said Father 
 John ; never seen but with a smile on her face. Work- 
 ing at her easel through the long day, and often far into 
 the night, with old Drake sleeping by her side as she 
 plies her brush — working, working, without complaint 
 or murmur, to earn the bare necessaries of life for her 
 beloved uncle, and that good old man who has followed 
 them so faithfully, in their fallen fortunes. 
 
 She^s a delightful creature,’^ exclaimed the captain. 
 
 1 wish to the Lord she could be induced to come and 
 stay with Kate at Castle Gregory. I would be a brother 
 to her as long as she lived. 
 
 She never would consent to part with her uncle and 
 old Roger. 
 
 Then, by the Lord Harry, let them all three come. 
 Castle Gregory's large enough. As for me, I suppose I 
 must remain an old bachelor, since there^s no help for it. 
 Lee^s an honest, kind-hearted, generous fellow himself, as 
 ever broke the world’s bread ; and I should take it as a 
 favor if he came and took up his quarters with me at the 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 311 
 
 old castle. By George, I must call down in the Water 
 Hen to-morrow, and see him about it.^^ 
 
 Don^t speak too fast, captain, said the priest. 
 
 Have a little patience. There^s a mystery now solv- 
 ing in that room, which may balk you, perhaps, of your 
 generous purpose. 
 
 Mystery ! 
 
 Yes. Shall I tell you what it is ? or have you time 
 to hear it ? The court sits at noon — does it not ? 
 
 '^Hang the court ! Go on with the mystery. 
 
 Well, Roger has been selling pictures to our friend, 
 Mr. Guirkie, it appears, for the last six months or more, 
 and, queer enough, never imagined for a moment the 
 purchaser had the least suspicion of the artist — having 
 passed himself off as a picture dealer from Derry ; 
 while, on the other hand, Mr. Guirkie was well aware 
 of the secret, and all the time kept buying her pieces, 
 and indulging his good, kind heart by paying double 
 prices. 
 
 '' Ho, ho ! I understand. Roger was unwilling to ex- 
 pose the poverty of the family, and therefore went under 
 an assumed name.^^ 
 
 Precisely. Well, this morning, it seems, he started 
 from the lighthouse to sell a picture, as usual. When 
 he reached here, he felt rather shy about coming in, 
 lest he might happen to meet somebody who had seen 
 him before, and would recognize him. So, sitting down 
 under the window, to wait for an opportunity of see- 
 ing Mr. Guirkie alone, and feeling somewhat fatigued, 
 perhaps, after his long journey, he fell fast asleep. In 
 that position' Mr. Guirkie discovered him, with the pic- 
 ture carefully concealed under the breast of his coat, 
 just as Kate entered the parlor. You heard the shriek 
 he gave when the portrait met his eye, I suppose. 
 
 Shriek — no, I heard no shriek. Portrait ! why, 
 what does that mean ? 
 
 It means that he recognized the likeness, and in so 
 doing, almost lost his senses. But wait, 3^ou shall hear. 
 In the first place, it happened to be a copy Mary had 
 
312 
 
 MARY LEE, OR 
 
 taken of her mother^s portrait, which Roger carried 
 off, either by mistake, or because he could find no other 
 ready/ ^ 
 
 Yes, very well — go on,’^ said the captain, impa- 
 tiently ; it don^t matter which/’ 
 
 And this very portrait now reveals the whole mys- 
 tery/’ 
 
 The mystery ! There, you’re at it again. Mys- 
 tery ! — Good Heavens, sir, can’t you tell me what 
 mystery you mean ? Excuse me Mr. Brennan ; but 
 you know how deeply interested I feel in every thing 
 that regards this girl — and then you’re so tedious.” 
 
 Have patience a little longer and I’ll explain,” said 
 the priest, smiling. You are already aware that Mr. 
 Guirkie has been for the last five years in the habit 
 of visiting, once a week, the old churchyard of Rath- 
 mullen, and that nobody could tell his reason or motive 
 for so doing.” 
 
 Certainly, every one in the parish knows that — 
 well ? ” 
 
 And you remember to have heard Mr. Guirkie tell 
 how he saw a young lady quitting the churchyard sev- 
 eral times, as he entered ? ” 
 
 Yes.” 
 
 And that he thought, or fancied he thought, the 
 figure of that lady greatly resembled Mary Lee. Well, 
 it now turns out, that our dear old friend and Mary have 
 been all along visiting the same grave.” 
 
 Hah ! the same grave 1 ” 
 
 Yes, the grave of her — mother ! ” 
 
 You surprise me ! her mother I Are not the Lees 
 strangers here ? ” 
 
 Yes. But you recollect the circumstances of the 
 wreck of the Saldana, and how the body of a woman, 
 wearing a gold crucifix on her neck, with the name 
 of Harriet Talbot engraved on the back, was cast ashore, 
 and interred in Rathmullen churchyard. That woman 
 was Mary Lee’s mother.” 
 
 ** Good Heavens ! Mary Lee’s mother ? ” 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 313 
 
 Yes, sir, Mary^s mother/^ 
 
 Humph ! and so that accounts for those strange 
 rumors we heard of the white lady and gentleman, seen 
 so often quitting the churchyard and sailing down the 
 S willy on moonlit nights. But what business had Mr. 
 Guirkie at her mother^s grave, eh ? 
 
 That^s the secret, replied the priest. 
 
 The secret ! confusion ! to the — But no matter 
 — no matter ; have your own way^ have your own way. 
 I shall ask no more questions. I suppose you’ll tell it 
 some time — when it suits you. By George, sir, you’re 
 the most circum — ” 
 
 Captain, dear,” said Mrs. Motherly, opening the 
 door gently and cutting the word in two, I want — ” 
 
 Want ! What the fury do you want ? ” thundered 
 the provoked captain. 
 
 '' Only one word, yer honor, afore I go. It’s about 
 the master’s flannels. I’m afeerd — ” 
 
 Confound your master’s flannels. To blazes with 
 them ; what have I to do with your master’s flannels ? ” 
 he exclaimed furiously ; begone this instant ! ” 
 
 I’ll not keep ye one minute, yer honor. I’m only 
 afraid Mr. Guirkie’ll ketch his death o’ cold.” 
 
 Woman, quit the room ! ” 
 
 Away, away, Mrs. Motherly,” said the priest, inter- 
 posing good-naturedly, and closing the door ; I shall 
 become your intercessor with Mr. Guirkie as soon as 
 possible ; but don’t quit the house, by any means, till I 
 see you again.” 
 
 '' What now ? ” cried Kate, stepping from the little 
 room in which she had been closeted all this time with 
 Mr. Guirkie, and laying her hand on the captain’s 
 shoulder. What now ? Brother, how is this ? out 
 of temper, eh ? What’s the matter ? ” 
 
 The mischief’s the matter. Between Father Bren- 
 nan’s mystery, and Mrs. Motherly’s importunity, and 
 those confounded constables, I’m almost crazy.” 
 
 Well, well, brother Tom, you’re so impatient, you 
 21 
 
314 
 
 MARY LEE, OR 
 
 know, and so impetnons. Hush, now ! not a word. 
 Listen — I have something to tell you/^ 
 
 What ? 
 
 About Uncle Jerry 
 
 '' Well, what of him ? Has he had a fit . is he dy- 
 ing ? is he dead ? 
 
 '' No, not exactly that — but, there^s a — mystery — 
 in h.’’ 
 
 Mystery ! — d — n the mystery ! — there it^s again ! 
 Mystery, well, if this isn^t enough to provoke — away ! 
 stand ofi*! Ull be humbugged no longer. Let me pass 
 — I must see him instantly — away ! begone ! 
 
 You shall not, captain, cried Kate, endeavoring to 
 prevent him ; you shall not.^^ 
 
 By the Lord Harry, I shall, though. 
 
 '' Nay, nay — it^s a very delicate afiair, brother; and 
 indeed he41 never forgive you if you do — you know 
 how bashful and sensitive he is.^^ 
 
 Is he still insensible ? inquired Father John. 
 
 Quite so, responded Kate; ^^he has not moved a 
 muscle since he saw the picture. 
 
 Insensible ! repeated the captain; then, Kate, 
 be it delicate or indelicate, Fll see my old friend, think 
 what you please about it ; and freeing himself from his 
 sister^s grasp, he advanced and opened the door of the 
 adjoining room. 
 
 The first object which met his view was Mr. Guirkie 
 himself, seated at a table on which lay, what appeared to 
 be, a framed picture some eight or ten inches square. 
 His forehead rested on his hands, and his eyes seemed 
 riveted to the canvas. Indeed, so absorbed was he, 
 that the noise which the captain made in forcing open 
 the door seemed not to disturb him in the least. When 
 Kate saw her brother gazing so intently at Mr. Guirkie, 
 she suddenly ceased speaking, and gently passing him by, 
 took her place behind Uncle Jerry^s chair. All was si- 
 lence now. Old Roger stood leaning his back against 
 the wall, looking down pensively on the floor ; Kate, 
 like a guardian angel, took her stand by the side of her 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 315 
 
 unconscious friend ; the priest laid his hands against the 
 door casing and peeped in ; and the boisterous, burly 
 captain, so noisy but a moment before, remained on the 
 threshold silent and motionless as a statue. 
 
 '' Look ! said the priest, whispering over the cap- 
 tain’s shoulder, and pointing to the picture. 
 
 What 1 ” 
 
 Don’t you see something drop — drop ? — listen ! 
 You can almost hear them falling on the canvas.” 
 
 Tears ? ” 
 
 Yes.” 
 
 God bless me : I don’t like to see him weep. Shall 
 I wake him up ? ” 
 
 No, no,” said Kate ; let him weep on.” 
 
 ** But, Kate, what portrait is that — eh ? ” 
 
 The likeness of a long-lost friend — Mary Lee’s 
 mother.” 
 
 Long-lost friend — Mary Lee’s mother ? ” 
 
 ** Yes ; the only woman he ever loved. Old Eoger, 
 here, will tell you all about it, some time when he has 
 more leisure.” 
 
 It’s onl}’’ now I could recognize him, your hon- 
 or,” said Roger, though I seen him many a time this 
 twelvemonth past. Years, you know, make a great 
 change in us.” 
 
 Kate, I must try to rouse him,” said the captain ; 
 
 I cannot bear to see those tears falling there so silently 
 on the canvas — it’s very unpleasant.” 
 
 "'Not yet — not yet,” remonstrated Kate, motioning 
 back the captain with her hand ; " let the faithful soul 
 indulge his rapturous reverie. These are not tears of 
 anguish, brother, but of love. 0, think of the love of that 
 heart, after an absence of twenty years. Surely, surely 
 such love is not of earth, but of heaven ; so pure, so 
 gentle, so enduring. A wanderer over the wide world, 
 seeking solace for a widowed heart, ho returns to his 
 native land, and after years of patient search, discovers 
 her lowly tomb at last among the ruins of Rathmullen 
 Abbey. Week after week, for six long years, has he 
 
316 
 
 MARY LEE, OR 
 
 visited that tomb. Every stain which the mildew had 
 left on the humble slab that bears her name he has oblit- 
 erated, and every letter the moss of years had filled up 
 he has lovingly renewed. 0, tell me not, Father John,’^ 
 continued Kate, her cheeks flushed with the emotions of 
 her heart, '' tell me not, that the pure, gentle, blessed 
 love of the olden time has all died out from the hearts 
 of men. No, no, no — God is love, and God never dies. 
 Noble, generous, faithful heart ! cried the enraptured 
 girl, bursting herself into tears, and falling at Uncle 
 Jerry ^s feet, she removed his hand from his forehead and 
 kissed it with enthusiastic affection. 0 that I had but 
 studied this book more carefully ! how much more I 
 should have learned of the beautiful and the good. 
 How cold and insipid are all printed words, compared 
 with the blessed teachings of a heart like thine ! Mary 
 Lee, Mary Lee, angel or woman, whatever thou art, 
 would to God he could now look on thy seraphic face, 
 and press thee — 
 
 Mary Lee,^^ repeated Mr. Guirkie, at last breaking 
 silence and looking on the face of the suppliant girl, 
 while the tears still glistened on his own, — ''Mary 
 Lee ! I think I have heard the name before. Poor 
 Mary Lee ! Are you Mary Lee ? 
 
 " No, no,^^ replied Kate ; " I am but a child of earth 
 — your own poor, foolish, loving Kate Petersham.’^ As 
 Kate spoke, she motioned to the beholders to quit the 
 room, for she dreaded the effect an exposure of his weak- 
 ness before the bantering captain might produce on a 
 mind so sensitive as his ; and fully appreciating the 
 delicacy of her fears, they withdrew silently from the 
 apartment and closed the door, before Mr. Guirkie^s con- 
 sciousness had completely returned. And, dear reader, 
 we must withdraw also, for the time of court-session is 
 already past, and Mr. Eobert Hardwrinkle is anxiously 
 looking from the court house door in the direction of 
 Greenmount, and wondering what can detain the chair- 
 man of the bench, or why he should presume to keep a 
 gentleman of his importance waiting so long. 
 
THE YANKEE IN IKELAND. 
 
 317 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 The Priest and Dr. Henshaw . — The Influence of Catho- 
 licity. — Its attractive and repulsive Features. — The 
 Priest^ s Garden and the old Tombstone. 
 
 Father John, having waited to see Mr. Guirkie com- 
 pletely restored to his usual equanimity, and Captain 
 Petersham in the saddle ready to set off for the court 
 house, took the near cut over the hill, and soon reached 
 his humble home. On his arrival, the servant handed 
 him a letter, and informed him that several persons had 
 called, and among the rest Else Curley of the Cairn, who 
 expressed great anxiety to see him before the court 
 opened. Mr. 'Hardwrinkle also bad sent his man in 
 haste to say that a riot was apprehended in the event 
 of Barry ^s committal, and requesting Father Brennan^s 
 presence to maintain order and assist the magistrates in 
 the discharge of their duty. 
 
 A very modest request, upon my word,^^ said the 
 priest, opening the letter, and seating himself quietly in 
 his easy chair to read it. Very modest, indeed ; but I 
 have a duty of my own to discharge at present. 
 
 The letter ran as follows : — 
 
 "'My Reverend Friend: The blow I have so long 
 been evading has fallen at last. My creditors have dis- 
 covered my retreat, and placed a writ for my immediate 
 arrest in the hands of the sheriff. I leave here to-mor- 
 row, by daybreak, and cross over to Malin Head ; but 
 where, after that, fate only must determine. What is to 
 become of poor Mary, God alone can tell. For the 
 present, at least, you must be her protector, for I know 
 of no other to whose care I could intrust so precious a 
 charge. I should much rather, for my own part, go to 
 jail and weather out the storm as best I might ; but the 
 thought of my incarceration would take the dear child^s 
 21 * 
 
318 
 
 MARY LEE, OR 
 
 life. I must quit this place to-morrow, too, without see- 
 ing her ; for I never could summon courage enough to 
 bid her farewell. The furniture here will, of course, be 
 sold for debt. Save the old Bible and harpsichord, if 
 you can. They are of little value, to be sure, to any 
 body ; but still they are links — alas I the only links left 
 us now — to connect us with the past. If you speak a 
 kind word to the captain about old Roger, I^m sure he 
 won't let him want. Be kind to Mary, and comfort the 
 poor child in my absence. 
 
 God bless you. 
 
 Yours, faithfully, E. Lee." 
 
 John! " cried the priest, as he read the letter — 
 
 John 1 " 
 
 ^^Sir." 
 
 ''Take the horse and gig immediately,’ and drive as 
 fast as possible to the lighthouse. Give my compliments 
 to Mr. Lee, say I received his note, and tell him to come 
 up without a moment's delay, and bring Miss Lee with 
 him. You understand ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 "And see here — don't wait to feed the horse, but 
 go at once." 
 
 " No, sir." 
 
 " Let Mr. Lee have the gig, since he has no convey- 
 ance of his own, and you can return on foot at your 
 leisure." 
 
 " Certainly, sir." 
 
 When the servant closed the door the priest leaned 
 back in his chair and composed himself to read vespers. 
 And a snug, pleasant little room it was, that parlor of 
 Father John's, to read or pray in, with its latticed win- 
 dows looking down on the placid face of the beautiful 
 Mulroy, now sleeping calmly in the bosom of the hills. 
 Close by the side of the humble edifice grew a long line 
 of gooseberry and currant bushes, and up from between 
 them, here and there, the honeysuckle stretched its long 
 neck into the open windows. Out before the door stood 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 319 
 
 an old elm tree, majestic and lonely in the centre of the 
 grass plot, spreading its giant branches far and wide 
 over house and garden. Many a name was carved on 
 that sturdy old trunk in its day, and many a time the 
 priest and his good old reverend uncle sat on the stone 
 bench together, and leaned back against it in the summer 
 evenings, to say the rosary and tell the beads. And 
 there, too, round about grew many a flower of native 
 growth, fresh and fair, simple and modest, like the virgin 
 whose altar they were intended to decorate — the moun- 
 tain daisy, white as snow ; the primrose, its faithful com- 
 panion, at its side ; the cowslip, with the dew always on 
 its face ; and the lily of the valley, hiding its head in 
 the grass, as if it had no right to occupy a place in the 
 world at all. These and such as these were the only 
 tenants of that modest garden, 0, well we remember it 
 — that garden where none but wild flowers grew — those 
 pretty wild flowers, nature^s own spontaneous offering. 
 And every morning would the priest pluck a bunch to 
 scatter on the shrine of the virgin, as he ascended her 
 altar to say the holy mass, knowing well she loved them 
 best ; for it was such as these Joseph used to gather for 
 her, long ago, by the wayside, when his work of the day 
 was done. 
 
 Down below the garden, and over the copse which lay 
 between, appeared the whitewashed walls of Massmount 
 Chapel, rising from the water’s edge, and on either side 
 facing the sea, the white gravestones peeped out from 
 the long grass and tangled fern. But in that solitary 
 spot there was one particular grave, on which the priest’s 
 eye often loved to rest, as he sat by the window gazing 
 down on the old churchyard. It was the grave of an 
 old and long-cherished friend — of one who found him 
 in his early days an exile and a wanderer, and took him 
 into his house and heart ; one who paused not to ask the 
 poor wayfarer from what nation he came or whither he 
 went — for his big heart knew no distinction of birth or 
 race ; who lavished on him all the loving fondness of 
 a father, and at last took him by the hand and led him 
 
820 
 
 MARY LEE, OR 
 
 within the sanctuary. On that humble slab, covering 
 the old man^s grave, the priest^s eyes often rested, as he 
 sat by the window of his little parlor ; and often he 
 sighed and longed for the day to come when he might 
 see that stone replaced by a monument worthier the 
 great and holy heart that slept beneath it. But, alas I 
 he sighed in vain ; for he was poor, and his love alone 
 could never raise it. 
 
 Dear reader, many a noble heart lies mouldering in a 
 forgotten grave ; and many a grave on which gratitude 
 should have erected a monument to virtue, lies deserted 
 and abandoned to the nettle and the dockweed. We 
 have seen such in our own day. Alas, alas ! that the 
 world should be so ungrateful. 
 
 Once upon a time we stood beside an open grave on a 
 
 green hill-side in N E . It was a grave in 
 
 whicli the mortal remains of a great and good man were 
 soon to be deposited — a man whose virtues were the 
 theme of every tongue. And well they might, for never 
 breathed a purer soul, nor throbbed a nobler heart than 
 his. At once unaffectedly simple and unconsciously 
 sublime, his nature was a compound of the finest quali- 
 ties of the Christian and the gentleman, without a single 
 jarring element to mar its modest grandeur. • 
 
 The funeral procession at length reached the spot, and 
 the coffin was laid beside the grave with the lid thrown 
 open, that the mourners might look on the face of the 
 dead for the last time. Never was seen such a crowd as 
 that morning gathered there. Fathers and mothers lead- 
 ing their little children by the hand, and young men with 
 bearded lip, and old men with hoary heads, were there, 
 and strangers from distant cities were there, and bishops 
 in purple cassocks, and priests in black stole and surplice. 
 Kneeling on the greensward, the incense rose, and the 
 psalm was sung, and the people of high and low degree 
 mingled together, and prayed for the repose of his soul ; 
 and whilst they prayed their tears fell thick and fast. It 
 was a sad but glorious sight to see that multitude weep- 
 ing and prostrate that morning before the open coffin ; 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 321 
 
 and gazing on his face, they saw it still beaming with 
 that look of love which ever marked it through life ; nay, 
 he seemed at that moment as if making them his last 
 appeal for an affectionate remembrance. And each one 
 answered the appeal by a silent vow — a vow to honor, 
 to gratitude, and to God — made while they gazed on 
 his face through their tears — made with their hands 
 upon his coflSn — a vow never to forget him. 
 
 Ten years passed away, and again, after many wan- 
 derings, we returned to that green hill-side, and looked 
 round for the monument which that crowd of loving 
 hearts had erected to the memory of their benefactor 
 and friend. What seek you, stranger ? said an old 
 man, seated on the grass by a little mound of clay. 
 
 The monument erected to the memory of the illus- 
 trious — Here it is,^^ he replied, laying his hand 
 
 on the sod beside him. That ! Yes, this is the mon- 
 ument ; I have just been sowing a few flower seeds at 
 his feet.^^ But his friends ! we inquired. Friends 
 repeated the old man, smiling bitterly. Yes, that mighty 
 multitude which ten years ago we saw weeping and wail- 
 ing here before his unburied corpse — what has become 
 of them ? Dead.^’ What, all dead ! Ay, they 
 
 all died on the day of his burial — all save one and my- 
 self. That one comes often here to say a prayer and 
 drop a tear on the grave, for living and dying he loved 
 him best of all the world. But alas I he is poor, and 
 those whom he trusted to for help have proved ungrate- 
 ful.^^ Nay, say not so, old man,^^ we replied ; “ may- 
 hap he has not solicited their aid. It were sad indeed to 
 think — Solicit ! he repeated, again interrupt- 
 
 ing me ; "'no, he could never do that — the peculiarity 
 of his relations with the dead forbade it. But, friend, 
 he added, true gratitude never waits for time, nor 
 place, nor man to call forth its expression. 
 
 Pardon us, dear reader, for this digression. Perhaps 
 it is out of place, but for the life of us we couldn^t help 
 making it. 
 
 Father Brennan had but little more than commenced to 
 
322 
 
 MARY LEE, OR 
 
 read his office, when the parlor door opened, and a ser- 
 vant announced a visitor. Presently our old acquaint- 
 ance, Dr. Henshaw, entered, and the priest instantly 
 laid his breviary on the table, and rose to receive him. 
 
 Dr. Henshaw, this is very kind. Fm very much 
 pleased to see you — pray be seated.^^ 
 
 Sir, you^ll excuse me ; I merely called to return this 
 volume of Bailly^s Theology, and to thank you for your 
 hospeetality before I leave. 
 
 Ah ! then I see you’re still angry with me, doctor ; 
 and, indeed, not without some show of reason, for I may, 
 in a moment of irritation, have said more than was 
 becoming in the presence of strangers. Still we must 
 not indulge resentment, you know.” 
 
 More than was becoming. Why, sir, you said what 
 was both offensive and unjust,” replied the doctor, 
 gruffly. 
 
 '' Perhaps so. If I did, I sincerely regret it.” 
 
 ** But, sir, your regret is not enough. In justice to 
 me, you are bound to retract the charges you made 
 against me in presence of the parties before whom you 
 made tliem.” 
 
 That I shall, sir, most willingly. Whatever those 
 parties may think unjustifiable in the language I used 
 that night, I am ready to retract and apologize for. 
 What I said. Dr. Henshaw, merely regarded your invet- 
 erate habit of intruding your faith into every thing. 
 Why, you had hardly been five minutes conversing with 
 Miss Petersham, when you told her she would certainly 
 be damned if she didn’t renounce Protestantism and join 
 the Catholic church forthwith.” 
 
 And why not tell her so at once, sir? where’s the 
 use of dilly-dallying about it ? Humph ! it’s charity, 
 sir, to let them see the whole truth at a glance — I say 
 it’s charity, sir.” 
 
 And as a consequence of that charity,” subjoined 
 the priest, '^they’re both shocked and disgusted.” 
 
 ''Be it so — the sooner shocked, the better. Protes- 
 tantism is a chronic disease, sir, and it’s by no syllabubs 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 323 
 
 and sirups you can cure it ; no, sir, but by the most 
 searching medicine, administered vary frequently and in 
 large doses. 
 
 Such treatment, I fear, would more likely kill than 
 cure,'^ said the priest. 
 
 '' I maintain the contrary, sir. Error should be taken 
 by the horns, and no by the tail. I have seen how you 
 converse with that girl — Miss Petersham ; why, you 
 talk to her, sir, as if you weroi making an apology for the 
 severity of Catholic deescipline, and the conservatism of 
 Catholic doctrine. Hoot, sir, you can never make a 
 Catholic of her by such a course of training as that/^ 
 
 You think so ? 
 
 Most assuredly, sir.^^ 
 
 And yet she is preparing to join the church in a few 
 days.^^ 
 
 '' I can hardly believe it, Mr. Brennan.^’ 
 
 Why not ? 
 
 Why, she hasn^t the look of a convert. 
 
 What, because she don^t appear grave and solemn ? 
 
 No. But her deportment is not like that of a girl 
 desirous of saving her soul. She’s cracked, sir, or, as 
 we say in Scotland, she’s ‘clean daft.’” 
 
 “By no manner of means, doctor ; you mistake her 
 character altogether. Under all that apparent thought- 
 lessness lies concealed a fund of natural piety and love 
 of truth, which, if you only knew her as I do, would 
 surprise you. Kate Petersham is not a Scotch girl, you 
 know, to look glum, and shake her head like a ‘ canny’ 
 Presbyterian ; nor English either, to wait for the slow 
 conviction of her intellect before she surrenders the 
 heart ; but a genuine, true-blooded Irish girl, inheriting 
 the enthusiasm and impulsiveness of her race, whose 
 soul feels the divine attractions of religion drawing her 
 to its bosom, long before her mind recognizes its pres- 
 ence. Like all Irish girls, Kate is playful, witty, light- 
 hearted, and tries ever to hide her piety under an aflect- 
 ed recklessness. She will steer the Water-Hen in the 
 teeth of a gale, or ride Moll Pitcher, at a steeple chase, 
 
324 
 
 MARY LEE, OR 
 
 over breakneck walls, when the humor takes her ; but 
 see her in her closet, when she shuts the door against 
 human eyes, and you^ll find her a very different being. 
 Yes, sir, Kate is an Irish girl in every sense of the term 
 — generous, impulsive, wayward, if you will — but with 
 a heart full of true piety, and a disposition as humble 
 and gentle as a child’s. 
 
 Humph ! ” ejaculated the doctor; and may I ask, 
 sir, after this extraordinary eulogium, how you set about 
 her conversion ? ” 
 
 '"Not by dosing her with dogmas, anathemas, and 
 pliilosophy, I assure you,” replied the priest, smiling. 
 
 '' No, that’s not your method, I perceive. You began, 
 I suppose, like all others of the old school, by pushing 
 her down gently from Protestantism into infidelity, and 
 when she could go no farther, led her up again by the 
 old negative process, step by step, through all the isms 
 into the true church.” 
 
 '"No, sir, that course would only have confused with- 
 out converting her.” 
 
 And what then ? ” 
 
 I merely pointed out to her the beauties of our holy 
 religion, and sent her down to Mary Lee to see them 
 illustrated.” 
 
 '' Ah ! Mary Lee — the light-keeper’s daughter? ” 
 
 Yes. She converted Miss Petersham without a word 
 of controversy — converted her by the mere example of 
 her every-day life. It’s precisely to the force of similar 
 example we owe so many conversions, by the Sisters of 
 Oharit}^ for instance, and the various other religious so- 
 cieties.” 
 
 '^1 admit, sir, they are useful in their way — nay, of 
 great advantage as helps to religion, especially as regards 
 the weaker sex ; but men of intellect must be treated 
 otherwise, sir. Intellectual men need intellectual treat- 
 ment ; and whilst your Sisters of Charity, and so forth, 
 have done much, and are still doing much, in their own 
 way, there is still need of men who, like myself, en- 
 deavor, according to our poor abeelities, to defend truth 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 325 
 
 and combat error, by means of that vary pheelosophy, 
 logic, and theology you seem to think of so lightly. 
 Each in his own sphere, sir, is an old adage. 
 
 Certainly, and a good one, too. But you misappre- 
 hend me, doctor, if you think I disparage one or the other 
 as means of conversion. Not at all. I merely say you 
 overrate them, and give too little credit, in your account, 
 to the grace of God and the influence of example. In 
 fact, sir, like the majority of converts, you make a mis- 
 take in the very beginning. You think — or seem to 
 think, at least — that nothing has been done in the church 
 for the conversion of heretics till you joined her, and that 
 in the ardor and freshness of your zeal you are expected 
 to make up for the neglect. This is a grievous error, 
 doctor, and if allowed to go unchecked, might lead to 
 lamentable consequences. Take yourself, for instance. 
 Instead of studying, like a child, the primer of the church, 
 and learning therein the thousand helps to salvation, and 
 the thousand beauties to be found in her ceremonies and 
 pious observances, you leave all such little things to the 
 ignorant, and jump at once into the higher region of 
 dogma, without the slightest preparatory training. The 
 result is, that you often introduce subjects in your writ- 
 ings and lectures which are not only ill timed and un- 
 called for, but really dangerous in hands so inexperienced 
 as yours. I willingly admit. Dr. Heushaw, youh'e a very 
 able writer. Indeed, in that department of letters you 
 have chosen as the field of your operations, you have, so 
 far as I know, very few equals. But the greater your 
 abilities, the greater the danger both to yourself and the 
 church. To youself, because of the inordinate pride such 
 talents are apt to generate, and to the church, lest your 
 non-Catholic readers might mistake your productions for 
 fair specimens of the true tone and spirit of Catholicity. 
 In that case the church would certainly suffer ; for I can- 
 not help telling you, doctor, that so far, at least, you 
 have only presented the church in a repulsive attitude. 
 
 '' That is,^^ replied the doctor, smiling serenely, I 
 have not tried my hand at namby-pambyism yet.^^ 
 
 28 
 
326 
 
 MARY LEE, OR 
 
 No. You certainly have not, sir. But by taking the 
 very opposite extreme you have, in my opinion, done 
 very little good to religion. What pleasure or benefit 
 can you find in the use of such .language as you uttered 
 that night at Castle Gregory — and not only there, but 
 wherever you had ocaasion to speak of Protestantism ? 
 Then your profound reasoning and subtle logic, on the 
 other hand, may convince intellects, but, be assured of 
 it, will rarely convert hearts. In such an age as this, 
 you must exhibit the church under her most alluring and 
 attractive form, or you will make no true converts. Men 
 will read your elaborate articles, admire your vigorous 
 thoughts and your cogent arguments, but their hearts 
 will remain untouched. If ever, indeed, by such a 
 course, you do succeed in bringing a Protestant within 
 the vestibule of the church, he will stand there like a 
 converted philosopher, scanning the books of the new 
 school and examining the principles of the new philoso- 
 phy, but he will hardly fall before the altar, and with 
 heart bowed down before his God, acknowledge himself 
 a humble and penitent child. No, sir ; it^s not enough to 
 convince the intellect ; you must convert the heart, also, 
 
 or you will make no converts. Father F r has done 
 
 more for the conversion of souls, in the smallest and least 
 valuable of his works, than you have ever done, or ever 
 will do, with all your great talents. And the reason is 
 plain. He is not ambitious — except, indeed, for the 
 promotion of God^s glory, and the happiness of his fel- 
 low-beings. His thoughts, as he writes, are never of 
 himself. He aims not at the admiration of men, but at 
 their salvation. It is the writings of such converts as he 
 is we want to see, and not elaborate essays on subjects 
 neither practical nor necessary. If you want to make 
 your talents useful to the church, don^t strain them to 
 reach where your readers can^t follow you, but write for 
 the people — write for the millions, sir, not for theolo- 
 gians and philosophers. If you do that, you will save 
 your own soul, and convert thousands of others ; but, if 
 not, I fear you will lose both.^^ 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 327 
 
 Humph ! ejaculated Ilenshaw, after the priest had 
 concluded his somewhat long speech, and buttoning his 
 coat, as if preparing to leave — '' I was not aware that I 
 solicited your advice in the matter ; if I had, no doubt I 
 should be prepared to defer to it ; but as it is — 
 
 '' Doctor,^^ interrupted his friend, '' I speak my senti- 
 ments on this subject openly and candidly, and at the risk 
 of giving you offence ; but I do so both for your own 
 sake and that of religion. The course you^re pursuing 
 will undoubtedly prove, in the end, to be an injudicious 
 one — and you will only have the mortification of know- 
 ing, in your old days, if you persist in it, that the church 
 of God has gained nothing by your advocacy. 
 
 Here the conversation was interrupted by the entrance 
 of a servant, with Captain Petersham^s compliments, and 
 his request to see Father Brennan at the court house. 
 
 Ah, I expected as much,^^ said the latter. This 
 trial of young Barry has just commenced, I suppose. 
 Will you accompany me, doctor ? 
 
 No, I should rather not, just now,^^ replied Hen- 
 shaw. I have some preparation to make before leaving 
 to-morrow. 
 
 What ! going so soon ! 
 
 Yes ; I must return by to-morrow^s packet. 
 
 Why, we shan't have time to make up our quarrel, 
 then. 0, you mustn^t think of it, doctor. 
 
 To-morrow I shall positively start for Derry. 
 
 Well, well, we must talk of that again. Come with 
 me now, for an hour or so, to the court house, to hear 
 this trial. If you refuse, I shall say you parted with me 
 in anger. Come, we are old friends, doctor, and must 
 not get estranged for trifles — come ; and the priest, 
 after several unsuccessful attempts, at length prevailed 
 on his discomfited friend to accompany him to the court 
 house. 
 
328 
 
 MARY LEE, OR 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 Randall Barry's Trial. — Kate Petersham on Moll Pitch- 
 er. — She balks f hut facing the Wall a second TimCj clears 
 it. — The Negro on the Witness Stand. — Else Curley 
 comforts Robert Hardwrinkle. 
 
 When Father Brennan, accompanied by his learned 
 friend, arrived at the court house gate, he found the yard 
 filled with people. At the door stood two or three po- 
 licemen, with bayonets on their muskets, keeping out the 
 crowd, now clamorous for admission, and on the walls 
 several groups of men and boys, peeping in through the 
 windows. As the priest made his appearance, however, 
 the noise ceased for a moment, and the usual whisper 
 ran round, Ta shin saggarthj ta shin saggarth" — There^s 
 the priest, there^s the priest. 
 
 Stand back,^^ cried a voice in a tone of authority ; 
 stand back, and let his reverence pass.^^ 
 
 The priest glanced quickly in the direction of the 
 speaker. 
 
 '' Who is that ? " inquired Henshaw. 
 
 ^'Lanty Hanlon, if he^s alive. 
 
 '' What ! our quondam skipper ? " 
 
 The very man — what a fool-hardy crack-brain he is 
 to come here after carrying off Miss Hardwrinkle. He 
 hasn’t got an ounce of sense, that fellow.” 
 
 Fall back,” shouted the policemen ; fall back, and 
 let the gentlemen into court. Make way, there.” 
 
 As the latter gained the upper step at the court house 
 door, a loud cheer suddenly broke from the crowd. 
 
 '' Hurrah ! there she comes, the darling ! ” 
 
 So ho ! ” ejaculated -Henshaw, turning on his step ; 
 ** what now ? ” 
 
 Kate Petersham ! I declare it is.” 
 
 Hurrah ! ” shouted the same voice ; there she 
 comes, on Moll Pitcher.” 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 329 
 
 '' Hold on/^ said Henshaw. 
 
 What^s the matter ? 
 
 Look ! look ! sir ; she faces that wall.’^ 
 
 Pooh ! that^s nothing. 
 
 Good Heavens ! sir, she’ll break her neck.” 
 
 Not a bit of it — she learned to ride in Galway.” 
 
 It’s sax feet high — there ! — hold, her horse balks ! ” 
 
 Balks ! that’s strange, eh ! what can have happened ? 
 something she shied at, I suspect. Moll Pitcher was 
 never known to balk in her life.” 
 
 Whilst the priest was yet speaking, Kate rode her 
 horse close up again to the wall, as if to show her the 
 diflSculty she had to encounter, and then wheeling round 
 cantered back for another start. 
 
 She’ll balk again,” said Henshaw, confidently. 
 
 '' Wait a while — we’ll see.” 
 
 Every voice was now hushed, and every eye fixed on 
 the rider, for the leap was dangerous, and the spectators, 
 as might naturally be supposed, felt anxious for the safe- 
 ty of their favorite. The spot where she tried to cross 
 was the only one in the wall accessible for a leap, on ac- 
 count of the large rocks which lay along either side for a 
 distance of a quarter of a mile or more ; and even there 
 the ground rose so abruptly as to put the horse to a peril- 
 ous disadvantage. Had the rider been aware of the dan- 
 ger before she approached the leap, very likely she had 
 ridden round, and avoided the difficulty ; but having once 
 made the attempt, she determined to risk every thing 
 rather than fail. Perhaps, too, the sight of so many 
 spectators, and the cheers which reached her, had some- 
 thing to do with confirming her resolution. 
 
 As the fearless girl turned her horse’s head to the wall, 
 she let the reins drop for a moment, and leaning over on 
 the saddle, tightened the girths a hole or two ; then ad- 
 justing her cap, and patting the spirited animal on the 
 neck, again cantered along at an easy gait. 
 
 Now ! ” said the priest ; now for it ! ” 
 
 The girl is decidedly mad, sir,” said Henshaw. 
 
 Hush ! she raises the whip.” 
 
 28 * 
 
330 
 
 MARY LEE, OB 
 
 Moll Pitcher knew well what that sign meant, and 
 with a snort and a toss of her saucy head, sprang forward 
 with the fleetness of a greyhound. 
 
 '' God assist her,^^ muttered the priest to himself: 
 ^^iPs a frightful risk/^ 
 
 ^^Amen,^^ replied Henshaw, catching the words; 
 ^^amen — though she don’t deserve it — her fool-hardi- 
 ness is unpardonable.” 
 
 Now ! ” and the priest unconsciously seized his 
 friend’s arm — now ! ” 
 
 As he spoke, Kate again raised the whip, and Moll 
 Pitcher rose to the wall. 
 
 For a second or two stillness reigned as deep as death. 
 If the animal touched the wall in crossing, horse and 
 rider would both, in all probability, have been seriously 
 injured, if not killed. If she did not, there was still 
 danger from the broken, stony ground on the opposite 
 side. 
 
 Hold ! ” exclaimed Henshaw, they’re both down 
 — good Heavens, sir, they’re killed!” 
 
 The mare rose and stood in an almost perpendicular 
 attitude for a second, as if to gather all her strength for 
 the effort. It was an instant of painful anxiety to the 
 spectators ; but it was only an instant, for in the next 
 she made the spring and crossed without touching a 
 stone, the foam flying from her mouth, and the streamers 
 from her rider’s cap floating back in the breeze. 
 
 Hurrah I hurrah ! God bless her I ” now broke in 
 one loud burst from the crowd ; but the exclamation was 
 suddenly checked, for it was soon found that rider and 
 horse had both fallen. 
 
 '^The girl’s killed,” exclaimed Henshaw. 
 
 God forbid ! ” replied the priest, straining his eyes 
 as he spoke. But she has certainly fallen.” 
 
 Then a general rush was made towards the gate, each 
 vying with his neighbor for the credit of being first to 
 reach the ground. 
 
 '' What means all this uproar ? ” demanded Captain 
 Petersham, suddenly appearing at the court house door. 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 331 
 
 accompanied by one of his brother magistrates — eh, 
 what has happened ? 
 
 ''Miss Petersham has fallen, sir, crossing that stone 
 wall,^^ replied a policeman. 
 
 " Fallen — impossible. What I on Moll Pitcher ? 
 
 " I fear she^s hurt, captain, said the priest. 
 
 "Ah! Father Brennan, you here, too ? Hurt — non- 
 sense ! 
 
 He had hardly uttered the last word, when another 
 wild shout rose that made the very welkin ring again ; 
 and here, plain to every eye, came Kate, firmly seated in 
 her saddle, bounding along the meadow, and waving her 
 handkerchief in acknowledgment of the greeting. 
 
 As she jumped the last ditch, a man apparently in 
 disguise — for his clothes seemed to accord little with 
 his figure and gait — advanced and laid his hand on 
 the reins. 
 
 Well, Lanty, is the trial over ? demanded Kate, 
 bending to her saddle-bow, and whispering the words. 
 
 " No, my lady, it didn^t begin yet.^^ 
 
 " Glad of it — I feared I should come late.^^ 
 
 " Is your ladyship hurt ? 
 
 " Not in the least. 
 
 "Nor Moll Pitcher ? 
 
 " Not a particle.’^ 
 
 " The darlin,^^ exclaimed Lanty, laying his hand on the 
 mare^s neck ; " she^s as true as steel. 0, my life on her 
 for a million.^’ 
 
 " The moment will soon come to try her,^^ said Kate, 
 as Lanty stretched out his arms and lifted her from the 
 saddle. " Are you sure alPs ready ? 
 
 " Ay, ay, never fear.^^ ^ 
 
 " Where is Miss Hard wrinkle ? 
 
 " In the mountains, safe and sound. 
 
 ‘‘ And the police, how many here ? ’’ 
 
 " Not many,^^ responded Lanty ; " but donT stay, or 
 the guard will suspect somethin. 
 
 The above conversation passed stealthily and rapidly, 
 under cover of the cheers of the crowd. 
 
332 
 
 MAEY LEE, OR 
 
 ''Fall back ! again bawled the police; "fall back 
 there, and make way for the lady/^ 
 
 " Ho ! Kate, my girl,^^ cried the jolly captain, snatch- 
 ing his sister up in his arms, and kissing her affection- 
 ately, as she ascended the steps. " The rascals here 
 would have you hurt or killed ; but they little know the 
 metal 3 ^ou^re made of, nor the gallant bit of flesh that 
 carries you, Kate. A little out of sorts by the fall — 
 bruised or stunned, eh ? 
 
 " Not a whit,’^ responded Kate. " I could ride a 
 steeple chase this moment with the best blood in the 
 country. Ah, Father John, you here ? Fm glad to see 
 you ; and bending reverently, she kissed the priest^s 
 hand. 
 
 " My dear girl,^^ responded the latter, " Pm delighted 
 to see you unhurt, for I must confess I felt rather anx- 
 ious. 
 
 "0, it was nothing — a mere stumble; the mare 
 lighted on a round stone and fell, that^s all. 0, hoh ! 
 and Dr. Henshaw ; Pm glad to see you too, sir,’^ she con- 
 tinued, holding out her hand. " You must come up and 
 see us to-morrow at Castle Gregory. Now don't say a 
 word; I shall have no excuse. You must positively 
 come, and you may cut up Swift, too, into mince meat, 
 if you like. Father John, I lay my sovereign commands 
 on you to present yourself and Dr. Henshaw at Castle 
 Gregory to-morrow. 
 
 " And, Kate, you must put in a good word for me,^^ 
 said the captain, looking over good-humoredly at the doc- 
 tor. " But never mind ; weTl settle all that to-morrow ; 
 let us now proceed to business. Come in, gentlemen ; 
 we have some spare ^ats on the bench. Ho, there, 
 police ! make way, make way. Come in^ there^s quite 
 an interesting case in court.^^ 
 
 As the parties took their seats and looked round the 
 room, the first object that arrested their attention was the 
 negro. He was standing in the witness box, apparently 
 awaiting the return of the presiding magistrate to resume 
 his examination. On the right of the bench, and im- 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND . 
 
 333 
 
 mediately below it, sat the cabin boy, wrapped in a thick, 
 blue blouse, and looking pale and emaciated after his 
 sickness. Beyond him, and near the dock in which 
 Randall Barry stood, shackled and guarded by two 
 constables, appeared the tall form of Else Curley. She 
 was seated on one of the steps leading up to the jury 
 room, the hood of her cloak, as usual, drawn over her 
 head, with the white elf locks visible beneath it. But 
 the object which appeared to attract every eye, and 
 challenge universal attention, was the noble, manly 
 figure of the young outlaw, as he stood before his judges, 
 awaiting his trial, his left arm still in a sling, and his 
 riglit bound by a chain running round his waist, and 
 fastened by a padlock in front. 
 
 Randall Barry was now in his twenty-fifth year ; but 
 misfortune and disappointment had cast a shade of 
 melancholy on his countenance that made him look 
 several years older. His face was eminently handsome, 
 and his person tall and muscular. Though far from being 
 robust, his limbs were well moulded, and evidently capable 
 of great physical exertion. As he stood in the dock, 
 his dark eye wandered slowly over the faces of the 
 multitude, resting now and then for a moment on those 
 he recognized. But when Kate Petersham appeared, 
 and took the place assigned her by the clerk of the 
 court, he glanced at her sharply for an instant, and then, 
 as she raised her eyes to his, bent his head and blushed 
 at the thought of his degradation. But to return to the 
 negro. 
 
 Your name is Sambo ? resumed Captain Peters- 
 ham, addressing the witness. 
 
 ^^Ees, massa.^^ 
 
 Sambo what ? 
 
 Nigger Sambo. 
 
 ''You’re a negro — that’s pretty evident; but what’s 
 your surname ? ” 
 
 " Don’t know, massa.” 
 
 " What are you called. Sambo Smith, or Sambo Brown, 
 
334 
 
 MAKY LEE, OR 
 
 or Sambo Robison ? YouVe some family name, have 
 you not ? 
 
 '' Nothing, massa,^^ replied the African, '' nothing but 
 Sambo/^ 
 
 '' Why, you rascal, do you mean to tell me youVe got 
 no family name ? 
 
 '' 0, sartin, massa. Pm got famly name/^ 
 
 And what is it, then ? Answer directly, sir. Pve 
 been examining this stupid fellow a full half hour, and can 
 get nothing out of him,^^ added the captain, turning to the 
 priest ; he^s the most provoking creature I ever met 
 with. Answer me, sir ; what is your family name ? 
 Famly name, massa ! 
 
 Yes, yes, yes ; you had a father, I suppose ? 
 
 '' Fader — well, supposin Pm had a fader.^^ 
 
 Supposing you had a father ? By George, this is 
 absolutely intolerable. Had your father a name ? ’’ 
 
 '' Sartin, massa.^^ 
 
 And what the fury was it ? 
 
 Sambo, massa — him was Nigger Sambo, too.^^ 
 
 Here the whole assembly, magistrates and spectators, 
 broke into a loud laugh at the discomfited captain, and 
 the negro yah-yahM, and shook his sides in true African 
 fashion. 
 
 '' Excuse me, captain, said Henshaw, '' but these 
 unfortunate creatures seldom or ever have a surname. 
 
 '‘Yes, yes, I was aware of that ; but I have an object 
 in ascertaining what his second name is. He must have 
 a name, either from his father or master. Silence in the 
 court, there ! Tell me, sir,^^ he continued, " what is that 
 boy^s name, sitting there before you ; and he pointed 
 to the individual in question. 
 
 " Dat boy ? — Natty Nelson. 
 
 " Where was he born ? 
 
 " Don^t know, massa. 
 
 " Where did you first see him ? 
 
 I seed him in de baccy field — yah, yah ! 
 
 " In what state ? 
 
 " Ole Virginny.^^ 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 335 
 
 '' On whose plantation ? 
 
 Whose plantation ? Can^t tell dat, massa, no how/^ 
 replied the African. 
 
 You must, sir ; I shall order you the bastinado this 
 instant if you refuse. 
 
 ''Yah, yah, massa; this am free country. Nigger 
 here am good as white man.^^ 
 
 At this stage of ‘the proceedings a stir was seen in the 
 crowd at the lower end of the room, and presently 
 entered Mr. Ephraim C. B. Weeks, covered with jewelry, 
 a gold-headed cane in his hand, and the silver card case 
 protruding as usual from his pocket. 
 
 Sambo was so intent on evading such questions as 
 might be likely to criminate protege, and so fearful, at 
 the same time, of provoking the magistrate’s anger, that 
 he neither heard nor saw any thing of Mr. Weeks, till 
 that gentleman attracted his notice by throwing his feet 
 upon the very platform on which he was standing. 
 
 " Golly, Massa Charles, you dar ? ” he exclaimed, as 
 his eye turned on the new comer. "Massa — I mean 
 Massa Week,” he added, endeavoring to correct the 
 blunder. 
 
 Captain Petersham’s quick eye saw the confusion this 
 unexpected recognition caused the Yankee, and instantly 
 writing a few words rapidly in pencil, dropped them on 
 the clerk’s desk, and again resumed. 
 
 "Witness, I again repeat the question — on whose 
 plantation did you first see this boy ? ” 
 
 " Me no tell dat, massa,” replied the negro, decidedly. 
 
 " Then I shall commit you. Clerk, make out his com- 
 mittal. I’ll send you presently where you can have 
 plenty of time to determine whether you’ll answer or 
 not.” 
 
 " Mr. Petersham,” observed Hardwrinkle, leaning over 
 on the bench, and speaking in low tones, but still suffi- 
 ciently loud to be heard by his brother magistrates, "it 
 does not appear to me that the name of the proprietor of 
 the plantation is essential in this case.” 
 
 " Certainly not, so far as we regard simply the owner- 
 
336 
 
 MARY LEE, OR 
 
 ship of the rosary ; but there^s a secret of some impor- 
 tance, I suspect, in connection with the case, which Tm 
 anxious to discover. 
 
 But are you justified, nevertheless, in committing the 
 witness for your own personal gratification ? 
 
 Perhaps not ; but at present I^m disposed to run 
 the risk,^^ replied the captain ; and turning abruptly from 
 Hardwrinkle, he handed the committal to a constable, and 
 ordered him to take the witness forthwith to the barrack, 
 and keep him in close custody. 
 
 The negro, finding himself in the hands of an officer, 
 looked beseechingly first at Weeks and then at the boy, 
 but said nothing. 
 
 You may depend on it. Sambo, said the captain, as 
 the poor fellow left the witness box, '^you shall never 
 leave the lock-up till you tell who the owner of that to- 
 bacco field is, or was, when you first saw this boy — • 
 away with him.^^ 
 
 Massa, massa. Pm want to speak one word to 
 Natty. 
 
 Not a syllable. 
 
 One leetle word.^^ 
 
 '' Not a letter of the alphabet. 
 
 The boy now rose, and in feeble accents begged per- 
 mission to accompany the negro to prison. '' He has 
 been my friend, he said, ** please your worships, my best 
 friend ever since I was a child, and I would grieve to 
 part with him.^' 
 
 It cannot be,^^ replied the captain ; he must go 
 alone. 
 
 During this conversation Weeks sat leaning back 
 against a partition, with his feet stretched out before 
 him, pointing a pencil with a penknife, and apparently 
 quite indifferent to what was passing. He was cautiously 
 deliberating, however, all the while, whether it were 
 better to acknowledge he had taken the rosary from the 
 lighthouse by mistake, or run the risk of the negro and 
 the boy keeping the promise they had made him. If he 
 admitted having taken it, he should produce it, and the 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 337 
 
 existence of two rosaries would at once discover the 
 whole secret. If he did not, and the boy, from his 
 strong affection for the negro, should be driven at last to 
 confess the truth, it might be worse still. The reader 
 must here observe, that up to the moment of the boy^s 
 arrest at Crohan House, Mr. Weeks never dreamed of his 
 having a rosary in his possession ; and even when the 
 constables took him off, he never imagined it could pos- 
 sibly involve him in any trouble. Ilardwrinkle was not 
 so, however. The instant he saw the rosary, he knew 
 it, at once, to be a duplicate of that he had seen with his 
 sister Rebecca, and already aware of the boy^s connec- 
 tions in Virginia, thought it prudent to apprise his cousin 
 of the danger, and accordingly despatched a private mes- 
 sage to him to that effect ; the latter, believing his pres- 
 ence at the trial might be the means of deterring the 
 negro from divulging the name of his master, if he should 
 happen to be so inclined, made his appearance in court, as 
 we have already described. Things, however, had taken 
 rather a different turn from what he expected. The Afri- 
 can was now committed for contempt, and on the point 
 of being separated from his protege — a separation he 
 knew to be most painful to both ; and he began to feel 
 somewhat apprehensive lest the negroes promise of fidel- 
 ity should give way to his love for the boy. Well, I 
 swonnie,^^ said he to himself, as he pointed the pencil, or 
 rather whittled it, (if one could judge by the quantity of 
 chips,) I swonnie, I don^t know. I guess it might be 
 just as well to make tracks from this here place as soon 
 as possible ; things are beginning to tighten in so^s to 
 make one feel sorter uncomfortable. There^s that darned 
 note, though, of the light-keeper^s — if I had that cashed, 
 I kinder think Vd bid the folks in this section good by 
 for a while. Well, the sheriff's after him, any how — 
 that^s a comfort — and 0, crackie I if I don^t make him 
 pay for his insults at Castle Gregory. If I don^t screw 
 him tight up — well, if I donH, it^s no matter ; that^s all.^' 
 In this fashion Mr. Weeks kept communing with his own 
 thoughts, weighing liis chances of success and failure, till 
 29 
 
338 
 
 MARY LEE, OR 
 
 the boy rose and begged the court to allow him the priv- 
 ilege of being confined in the same cell with the witness. 
 
 Ah,^^ thought Weeks, I guess I^m about long enough 
 here. I see the tears in his eyes — he’ll never hold out; 
 and if he comes to blab, I might feel sorter unpleasant ; ” 
 and so thinking, he took his hat and turned to quit the 
 court house. 
 
 Excuse me, Mr. Weeks,” said Captain Petersham, 
 we must detain you a little longer — you’re summoned 
 to give testimony in this case.” 
 
 ‘^Summoned!” 
 
 Yes, sir. Here, constable, hand this to the gentle- 
 man. Have the goodness to resume your seat, Mr. 
 Duck — ah, Mr. Weeks, I should have said; we shall 
 want you presently. Clerk, call Else Curley.” 
 
 I’m here,” responded Else, promptly, rising from the 
 low step on which she had been sitting, and brushing 
 back her gray hair under her hood with her brown, bony 
 hand, — ** I’m here.” 
 
 Take your place on the witness stand,” said the 
 clerk. 
 
 As Else advanced, every eye was upon her. Hundreds 
 there who had come from a distance to hear the trial of 
 the young rebel, and had never seen Else Curley, now 
 pushed forward to get a glimpse of that far-famed fortune- 
 teller and solitary of Benraven. 
 
 Having taken the usual oath, the old woman folded 
 her arms in her gray cloak, and awaited the pleasure of 
 the magistrates. 
 
 Shall I examine her ? ” said Hardwrinkle, addressing 
 the captain. 
 
 I thank you,” replied the latter ; no, I should pre- 
 fer to examine her myself.” 
 
 Your name is Else Curley, and you reside on Ben- 
 raven Mountain ? ” began the captain. 
 
 Yes.” 
 
 ''Do you know Mr. Lee and his daughter, of Araheera 
 lighthouse ? ” 
 
 " I do.” 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 339 
 
 '' Have you ever seen a rosary of a peculiar description 
 in Miss Lee^s possession ? 
 
 '' I have/^ 
 
 Can you describe it ? 
 
 It was a silver-baded rosary, with a crucifix set in 
 diamonds/^ 
 
 Look at this one, and tell me if you ever saw it 
 before/^ 
 
 Else took the rosary, and after looking at it for a mo- 
 ment replied, This is the very picthur of Mary Lee^s, if 
 it been^t itself/^ 
 
 Can you swear positively it is Miss Lee’s/^ 
 
 No,^^ responded Else, but it^s as lake it as one thing 
 can be lake another.^' 
 
 Have you seen a rosary like that in Miss Lee^s pos- 
 session ? 
 
 A hundher times. I tuck one like it from her dead 
 mother^s neck among the rocks of Araheera, the mornin 
 after the wrack of the Saldana, and put it on her own.^^ 
 
 ** On whose ? 
 
 ** Mary Lee^s. The child was livin in her mother's 
 arms when I found her." 
 
 What ! " exclaimed the captain ; you must mistake. 
 Do you mean to tell the bench that you found a living 
 child in the arms of a dead woman on the morning after 
 the wreck of the Saldana, and that that child is the same 
 Mary Lee who now claims this rosary ? " 
 
 "' I do," replied Else, confidently. 
 
 This declaration of the old woman, made so promptly 
 and positively, took the whole audience by surprise. 
 Even Hardwrinkle himself, who thought he knew more 
 of Mary Lee's history than any other in court, looked 
 confounded and astonished at the unexpected revelation. 
 In a moment he foresaw the disclosure would eventually 
 lead to the discovery of- his cousin's matrimonial specula- 
 tion, the boy's relationship with the proprietor of the 
 Virginia plantation, and his own confusion and disgrace, 
 unless he succeeded in damaging the witness's tes- 
 timony. 
 
340 
 
 MARY LEE, OR 
 
 ** Captain Petersham/^ said he, turning to the presiding 
 magistrate, and speaking in the gentlest possible accents, 
 may I take the liberty of putting a question or two to 
 the witness ? It really cannot be possible she speaks the 
 truth in this matter/^ 
 
 ^'As you please,^^ replied the captain; but I don^t 
 see how it can affect the case whether she speaks the truth 
 or not about the discovery of the child. She swears pos- 
 itively that the rosary is as like that which Miss Lee lost 
 as one thing can be like another, and she had even de- 
 scribed it, before she saw it, as consisting of silver beads 
 and a gold crucifix set in diamonds. Now, for my part, 
 I don’t believe you could find another rosary through all 
 Europe of the same description. But proceed, sir ; sat- 
 isfy yourself, by all means.” 
 
 '' Else Curley,” said Hardwrinkle, addressing the wit- 
 ness, of what religion are you ? ” 
 
 I was once a Catholic,” replied the old woman ; 
 I’m nothin, now.” 
 
 ''Do you believe in a future state of rewards and pun- 
 ishments ? ” 
 
 "Humph!” she replied; "why shouldn’t I? God 
 surely ’ll punish the persecutor and the murdherer in the 
 nixt world, if the law don’t in this ; ” and as she uttered 
 the words, she fixed her keen, deep-sunken eyes on her 
 questioner. 
 
 " How long is it since you’ve been in a house of 
 worship ? ” 
 
 " Well on to thirty years.” 
 
 "You are commonly called the witch and fortune- 
 teller of the Cairn, are you not ? ” 
 
 " Sometimes fortune-teller, and sometimes she-devil,” 
 replied Else ; "just as the people fancy.” 
 
 " Do you know what crime it is to take a false 
 oath ? ” 
 
 "I do.” 
 
 "What is it?” 
 
 " Parjury.” 
 
 " And what is perjury ? ” 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 341 
 
 The crime yer father committed whin he swore agin 
 my only sister, and sint her to an untimely grave. 
 
 Here a laugh came up from the crowd below ; but it 
 was soon suppressed by the police, and Hardwrinkle pro- 
 ceeded. 
 
 I repeat the question, witness ; what is perjury ? 
 ‘^The crime yer father committed whin he swore my 
 brother to the hulk, and sint him to die in a forrin land, 
 with irons on his limbs. The crime ye committed yerself 
 whin ye sint me twice to the dark dungeons of Lefford 
 jail, and whin I come out, driv me to burrow lake the 
 brock in the crags of Benraven.^^ 
 
 Woman, I shall send you to jail for the third time, if 
 you persist in using such language in court. 
 
 Scoundrel ! hypocrite ! murderer ! I defy you,^’ cried 
 Else, throwing back her hood, and raising her shrivelled 
 arm as she spoke; ''yer villany’s discovered at last. 
 There,’^ she ejaculated, pointing to Weeks, "there, tell 
 the court who sent that man to me for spells and charms 
 to make Mary Lee marry him ; who tould him of the 
 witch and fortune-teller of Benraven ; who tould him she 
 would sell her sowl to fill her pocket ? Ah, little ye 
 thought, when ye made this greedy cousin buy up the 
 light-keeper^s notes, that ye might have the means of 
 sending him to jail if he refused his niece, little ye thought 
 the bedlam of the Cairn was watching ye — 
 
 "Hold! hold, woman exclaimed Captain Peters- 
 ham. " What does all this mean ? 
 
 " Mane ! repeated Else. " It manes that this cousin 
 of his, this man of trinkets, come here from America in 
 search of the heiress of William Talbot, and that Robert 
 Hardwrinkle conspired with him to take her off by fair 
 manes or foul. It manes that at the instigation of that 
 devil there in human shape, the Yankee here paid me 
 eighty British pounds for spells and charms, and my good 
 word besides, to make her marry him. It manes that, 
 after watching for thirty years, I found at last evi- 
 dence to prove to the world that the pious, God-fearing, 
 29 * 
 
342 
 
 MARY LEE, OR 
 
 saintly, smooth-spoken gentleman on the bench there be- 
 side ye, is a hypocrite and a villain/^ 
 
 Police I take charge of this woman, commanded 
 Hardwrinkle, his long, dark, sallow face pale with con- 
 fusion and anger ; take her away/^ 
 
 No, no; not yet, Mr. Hardwrinkle, not yet,^^ inter- 
 posed Captain Petersham ; we cannot permit her to 
 leave after casting such aspersion on your character. As 
 your brother magistrates, we feel concerned for your 
 reputation, and must for your sake, and indeed for the 
 honor of the bench, make further inquiries into this 
 matter. 
 
 ^‘Else Curley,^^ said he, ''you have just charged Mr. 
 Hardwrinkle, a magistrate of the county, and a gentle- 
 man — up to this moment, at least — of unexceptionable 
 character, with having conspired with Mr. Weeks to take 
 off Miss Lee by fair means or foul. What proof of that 
 fact can you offer ? 
 
 " That, on the third day afther Weeks arrived at Cro- 
 han House, promptly replied Else, "he came into my 
 cabin on the Cairn, and paid me twenty pounds earnest 
 for my sarvices to help him to secure Mary Lee, and that 
 afore he iver seen a faiture of her face. How cud he 
 know that I was acquent with Mary Lee, or how cud 
 he tell that I^d take his money for sich a purpose, or how 
 cud he know any thing about me, if Robert Hardwrinkle 
 didn^t tell him who and what I was ? 
 
 " Yes, but all this amounts only to mere suspicion. 
 Have you proofs ? 
 
 " Weekses bank notes, that I have still in my posses- 
 sion, clean and fresh out of the Bank of Dublin, is proof 
 enough on his side, I^m thinkin ; and the note in the 
 sheriff's hands can spake for Robert Hardwrinkle^s.^^ 
 
 Here the deputy sheriff entered the court house, ac- 
 companied by the light-keeper and his afflicted niece, 
 closely followed by her old, faithful domestic, Roger 
 O^Shaughnessy, in the bottle-green livery with the faded 
 lace. As the constables drove back the crowd to make 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 343 
 
 way, and Mary appeared, deeply veiled, leaning on her 
 uncle^s arm, Captain Petersham rose and saluted her 
 with marked respect, and then a murmur of sympathy 
 ran round the assembly ; and as she advanced nearer to 
 the bench, her dear friend Kate, her eyes suffused with 
 tears, and regardless of the spectators, ran to meet her, 
 and flinging her arms round her neck, embraced her with 
 true sisterly affection. 
 
344 
 
 MARY LEE, OR 
 
 CHAPTEE XXVIII. 
 
 Trial continued, — Else charges Hardwrinhle with Con-- 
 spiracy to carry off Mary Lee. — She proms William 
 Talbot j Mary^s Father j to he still living y by Means of the 
 Eosary found on the Person of the Cabin Boy. — 
 Marfs Feelings overpower her on hearing the Announce- 
 ment. — The Rescue of the Rebel. — The Riot, — Hard- 
 wrinkle^ s Death. 
 
 The crowd outside the court house grew more and 
 more clamorous for admission, as the trial proceeded. 
 Stones were several times thrown at the doors, and 
 finally, the multitude grew so excited as to be on the 
 point of rushing up the steps to disarm the constables, 
 when suddenly the word halt was heard ringing 
 clear and sharp from the direction of the street, and 
 next moment a detachment of police, headed by a lieu- 
 tenant, passed through the gate, and opening a passage 
 with their bayonets, took their position on the court 
 house steps. 
 
 This re-enforcement, it is needless to observe, was 
 ordered by Mr. Hardwrinkle himself, from the neighbor- 
 ing village, without the knowledge or consent of Cap- 
 tain Petersham. Hardwrinkle, in fact, saw from the 
 beginning that the captain determined to throw every 
 obstacle in the way of Barry^s committal, and he, on the 
 other hand, resolved to leave no means untried to thwart 
 and disappoint him. Hence the moment he found the 
 police had all been sent in search of Lanty Hanlon and 
 his sister, with the exception of three or four to guard 
 the prisoner, he despatched a messenger to the nearest 
 oflScer in charge, and under pretence of an anticipated 
 riot, commanded him to bring forthwith all the force he 
 could muster, to sustain the magistrates in the execution 
 of the law. 
 
 After the slight interruption occasioned by the entrance 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 345 
 
 of the sheriff and his party, the chairman again resumed 
 his examination of the witness. 
 
 My good woman, said he, you have made a very 
 grave and serious charge here, in open court, against one 
 of my brother magistrates ; no less a charge, indeed, 
 than of conspiring with another individual here present 
 to entice, seduce, or carry off, by fair means or foul, a 
 highly accomplished and respectable young lady. Miss 
 Lee, of Araheera Head. I now call on you to substan- 
 tiate that charge, or confess yourself guilty of a foul and 
 malicious slander. 
 
 Slander ! repeated Else, drawing herself up and 
 looking round Jhe audience. I niver was guilty of 
 slander in my life. I^m now fourscore years and more ; 
 thirty of them I spent in the wilds of Benraven, under 
 the foul name of witch and deviFs dam ; but whereas 
 the man or woman here ever knew Else Curley to tell a 
 lie or slander a neighbor ? If there is, let them spake. 
 What I am, that man there on the bench has made me. 
 For these long and weary thirty years, he stud between 
 the light of heaven and me ; and yit though I niver ex- 
 pect to see God but in anger, I wudn’t tell a lie to send 
 him to the gallows.’^ 
 
 As Else uttered these words, her look was calm and 
 defiant, and she stood as erect as a statue, her arms 
 folded on her brown bare breast, and her deep gray eyes 
 fixed on Robert Hardwrinkle. 
 
 The spectators gazed on her in silent astonishment. 
 Her mien, her attitude, but above all the dignity with 
 which she spoke, struck them as extraordinary in a 
 woman of her character and years. 
 
 She has seen better days, that old creature, ob- 
 served Ilenshaw, turning to the priest. 
 
 Ay, so report says.^^ 
 
 '' But on what grounds,^^ again demanded the captain, 
 have you made this charge against Mr. Hardwrinkle ? 
 
 Humph ! grounds enough, sir, grounds enough. First 
 ask the sheriff there to produce the promissory note Mr. 
 Lee^s now arrested for.’^ 
 
346 
 
 MARY LEE, OR 
 
 My jurisdiction don^t extend so far, my good woman. 
 If the gentleman, however, chooses — 
 
 Certainly, sir,^^ replied the latter, ^'certainly; I can 
 see no objection/^ 
 
 '' Well, I guess you might as well not mind it just 
 now,^^ drawled out Weeks, who had resumed his seat, 
 and kept whittling his pencil. 
 
 How so ? 
 
 Well, I object to the production of the note — 
 that^s all.^^ 
 
 The objection don’t hold, sir — the note being now in 
 possession of the civil court,” responded the sheriff, hand- 
 ing the document up to the bench. 
 
 Hah ! ” exclaimed the chairman, as l^e read it over. 
 ** This note’s drawn in favor of Steven C. Ingoldsby, and 
 indorsed by Robert Hardwrinkle to Ephraim C. B. Weeks 
 — with interest added up to 13th — . Witness, how 
 does this date correspond with Weeks’s arrival at Cro- 
 han ? ” 
 
 He was here two weeks to a day,” promptly re- 
 sponded Else — ^'just time enough for his cousin there 
 to go to Dublin, and ferret out Mr. Lee’s creditors.” 
 
 ''You’re of opinion, then,” said the captain, "that 
 Mr. Hardwrinkle bought up this note and indorsed it to 
 Weeks, as a means of coercing Miss Lee to marry him 
 through fear of her uncle’s incarceration ? ” 
 
 " I am.” 
 
 " And yet, my good woman, you have given us no 
 proofs that Mr. Weeks ever proposed marriage to the 
 young lady in question.” 
 
 " Proofs ! ” repeated Else, running her hand into her 
 bosom, and drawing out a pile of letters. " Proofs — 
 there’s proofs enough here.” 
 
 " How came you by these letters ? ” 
 
 " Weeks gave them to me to deliver to Miss Lee.” 
 
 " Ah — and you did not deliver them ? ” 
 
 " No ; I kept them.” 
 
 " Miss Lee, then, never saw these letters?” 
 
 "Saw them — humph! no; it’d ill become the 
 
THE YANKEE IN ERELAND. 
 
 347 
 
 daughter of William Talbot to touch the love-letters of 
 such a scare-crow as that ; and her eye pointing to 
 the Yankee as she spoke. 
 
 Hand me these letters/^ said the captain ; we 
 must see what they look like.^^ 
 
 After glancing over the contents of one or two taken 
 at random from the parcel, he turned to Weeks, and re- 
 quested to know from that gentleman, whether he ac- 
 knowledged the authorship, and if so, had he any 
 objection to have them read in court. 
 
 Weeks hesitated for a moment, at a loss what reply to 
 make. He felt a great temptation to disavow the letters 
 altogether, if he could only do so with impunity ; but 
 he feared he could not, and to fail in the attempt 
 would only cover him with greater shame and confusion 
 than ever. 
 
 '' You have heard the question, Mr. Weeks ? 
 
 ** What ! about writing these letters ? 
 
 Yes ! '' 
 
 0, I acknowledge the corn right straight off. I 
 guess I hainft got nothing in them to be ashamed of — 
 have I ? Well, the hull amount of it is, I sorter liked 
 the girl.^^ 
 
 Just so, sir.^' 
 
 There’s no treason in that, I reckon.’’ 
 
 ** Certainly not.” 
 
 ‘‘ As for the lady been of gentle blood, and all that 
 sorter thing, why, it’s right enough, I guess, over here, 
 in this old country of yourn. And so, folks round here 
 may think, perhaps, a Yankee merchant, like me, ain’t 
 good enough match for her ; but I tell ye what, gents,” 
 he continued, rising to his feet, and thrusting his hands 
 down, as usual, deep into his breeches pockets, — ''I tell 
 you what, I’m the son of an old revolutionist, and I’ve 
 got a notion that the descendant of one of these same 
 old heroes is about good enough for any Irish girl ever 
 walked in shoe leather. I may be wrong, gents, but 
 them’s my sentiments notwithstanding.” 
 
 Witness,” resumed the chairman, without appearing 
 
348 
 
 MARY LEE, OR 
 
 to notice this speech ; witness, since the gentleman 
 acknowledges having written these letters and made 
 honorable proposals therein, what can you show us 
 disreputable in his conduct, or that of his cousin, Mr. 
 Hard wrinkle, respecting the overture of marriage ? 
 
 Wasn^t it the act of a mane, designin villain,^’ re- 
 sponded Else, ^^to try to enthrap a girl of her years 
 into a marriage to save her uncle from beggary or a jail, 
 when he knew her to be the heiress of William Talbot, 
 now livin in the United States ? 
 
 Mary started as the sudden announcement fell upon 
 her ear. 
 
 Hush, hush ! whispered Kate ; keep quiet for- a 
 moment/^ 
 
 '' 0, my God,^^ she murmured — what do I hear I my 
 father still living ! 
 
 The light-keeper glanced at the chairman, and then at 
 the witness, as if he feared the old woman^s wits were 
 wandering ; and the priest, turning to Dr. Henshaw, 
 quietly observed that things were beginning to assume 
 a new complexion. 
 
 Else Curley, be careful what words you utter here,^^ 
 said the captain, anxiously looking down at the two 
 young friends, now folded lovingly in each other^s arms. 
 
 You may have excited hopes, perhaps, which never 
 can be realized. On what authority do you make that 
 assertion ? 
 
 What, that William Talbot is still livin ? 
 
 Yes.^^ 
 
 Plenty of authorities ; first and foremost, that rosary 
 there in the priest^ s hand ; then the draggin up of that 
 poor cabin boy under a warrant, for fear he^d tell 
 the sacret when heM recover ; and last of all, the 
 condemned look on that dark, dismal countenance there 
 beside ye.^^ 
 
 Hardwrinkle raised his head and smiled at the old 
 woman, but it was a smile so ghastly that the spectators 
 felt chilled by its death-like expression. 
 
 Hah ! ye smile, said Else ; ye smile, and well ye 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 349 
 
 may, for you’re the bloodsucker and I’m the victim. Ye 
 hunted me long, and run me down at last. From crag 
 to crag je hunted me, and from peak to peak ; from the 
 mountain to the glen ye hunted me, and from the glen to 
 the prison. Ay, ye hunted me, and ye famished me, and 
 ye robbed me of my sowl at last. Ah, well ye may 
 smile at the rack and ruin ye’ve made ; but never mind ; 
 bide yer time, bide yer time ; it’s a long lane has no 
 turn. That hellish smile can’t last forever. May be 
 yer time is shorter nor ye think for. The hand of God 
 may reach ye yit afore death reaches me. Bide yer 
 time ; wanst I thought I cud niver die till I seen yer 
 corpse at my feet and my heel on its neck ; but Heaven, 
 it seems, or fate, will have it otherways. There’s but 
 one bein livin cud save ye from my vengeance, and 
 there she’s now,” cried the speaker, turning to Mary 
 Lee ; '' that very girl there, that spotless child, that ye 
 tried to make the victim of yer cold-blooded villany, has 
 three times saved yer life — ” 
 
 Woman, woman,” shouted the chairman, at the top 
 of his voice, after several fruitless attempts to silence 
 her, woman, stop ! I shall commit you if you don’t 
 desist instantly,” 
 
 Pshaugh ! ” exclaimed Else ; what care I for yer 
 committal ? Hah, hah I commit me ! But go on, go on, 
 captain : put yer questions, and I’ll answer them.” 
 
 ''You say this rosary is a proof that Mr. Talbot is 
 still living ; how do you explain that ? ” 
 
 " Aisy enough. That rosary is the property of 
 William Talbot, and the boy here must have received 
 or stolen it from its owner when he left Virginia three 
 months ago. Call up Roger O’Shaughnessy ; he can 
 identify it.” 
 
 " Is Roger O’Shaughnessy in court ? Witness, you 
 may remain as you are.” 
 
 " Ahem ! yes, please yer honor,” responded Roger, 
 rising, and making a profound obeisance to the bench. 
 
 " Have you any objection to be sworn in this case ? ” 
 
 " Not the laste in the world, yer honor.” 
 
 30 
 
350 
 
 MARY LEE, OR 
 
 Clerk, swear him where he stands/^ 
 
 After the usual solemnity of taking the oath, Roger 
 raised his hands and smoothed down his few remaining 
 white hairs over the collar of his old bottle-green coat, 
 and then looked across at his young mistress, as if to 
 say in as many words, Don^t be afraid, my child, don^t 
 be afraid ; 1^11 say nothing to injure the credit of the 
 family/^ 
 
 Witness, began the chairman, what is your 
 name ? 
 
 Roger O’Shaughnessy, sir/^ 
 
 '' You have been a servant in Mr. Talbotts family — 
 how long ? 
 
 I was forty years steward and butler at Castle , 
 
 the family seat of the Talbots, and my father before me 
 for nearly as many more.^^ 
 
 Clerk, hand him that rosary.^^ 
 
 Roger took the precious relic from the clerk^s hand, 
 and drawing out his spectacles, deliberately wiped them 
 with his handkerchief, and then slowly adjusted them. 
 
 Well, sir,^^ demanded the chairman, after a long 
 pause, have you seen that article before ? 
 have, sir, a hundred times. 
 
 In whose possession ? 
 
 In Mr. William Talbotts, and in his father^s, Edward 
 
 Talbot’s, of Castle 
 
 ^'Have you ever seen another like it ? ” 
 
 I have, sir ; the fellow of it, in the possession of 
 Edward Talbot’s lady, and afterwards in that of her 
 daughter-in-law. Miss Mary Lee’s mother, from whose 
 neck it was taken after the wreck of the Saldana, by the 
 witness. Else Curley, and placed on the neck of her fos- 
 ther child here present.” 
 
 Can you swear the rosary you now hold in your 
 hand is not the rosary Miss Lee lost recently, but that 
 which at one time belonged to her father ? ” 
 
 I swear it.” 
 
 How can you swear it, when the two are so much 
 alike ? ” 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 351 
 
 Ahem ! ahem 1 ejaculated Roger ; '' they^re like 
 one another, to be sure, your honor. But I carried this 
 rosary several times to the jeweler in Cork, with my own 
 hands, to be mended, and can take' my oath to the crack 
 here yet under the arm of the crucifix. 
 
 You swear that ? 
 
 I do, sir.^^ 
 
 '^Yery well, that’s sulQficient; and now let me ask 
 another question in connection with the rosary. Do you 
 think, from what you have known of William Talbot’s 
 disposition, he would be likely to part with this rosary 
 — give it as a present, for instance, to this boy ? ” 
 
 '' Ahem ! yer honor,” responded Roger, I didn’t 
 think so wanst, any way. I mane the night his father 
 died, when he called Master William to his bedside, and 
 throwin the rosary round his neck, cautioned him never 
 to part with it as long as he lived, for there was a blessia 
 in it, and he’d find it out some time before he died. 
 * I bequathe it to ye, my son,’ siz he, * as the best legacy 
 I can lave ye. Since the Duchess of Orleans give it to 
 me as an acknowledgment for saving her life at the 
 Virgin’s Chapel at Aix, I niver yet went to sleep without 
 telling those beads. I hope, my dear boy, you’ll follow 
 your old father’s example.’ Ahem ! I was present my- 
 self, your honor, standin by when that happened, and if 
 I could judge by Master William’s vows and promises 
 that night, I might safely say, he’d never be likely to 
 part with it willingly.” 
 
 From the Duchess of Orleans, did you say ? ” 
 
 Ahem I yes, sir,” responded Roger. Her grace 
 gave one to Mr. Edward Talbot, and the fellow of it to 
 his lady, at Yairsells, with her own hands. I heerd 
 the old master tell the story to the lords and ladies many 
 
 an evening at Castle . But, och ! sure, yer honor, 
 
 that’s neither here or there, now ; no, no ! these old 
 times can never come back again. Och, och I it’s little 
 I thought wanst, when I used to see as many as seven- 
 teen lords and ladies of the best blood in the land seated 
 in the great dining hall at Castle ” 
 
352 
 
 MARY LEE, OR 
 
 Well, well, Eoger, we mustn’t talk of these things 
 now,” interrupted the captain. You must remember 
 you’re on your oath.” 
 
 Ay, ay, true enough ; I had almost forgot that. But 
 I’m ould, yer honor, ye know, and my memory’s not just 
 so good as it used to be.” 
 
 '' It’s now nearly twenty years since Mr. William 
 Talbot was last seen in England — is it not ? ” 
 
 '' Ahem ! ahem ! ” ejaculated Roger, pausing for a 
 moment to recollect himself; '' ahem I no, sir, it’s not so 
 long as that ; no, it’s just eighteen years ago come next 
 Michaelmas since he fought the duel ; we niver seen 
 him more after that night.” 
 
 Nor heard of him ? ” 
 
 No, sir ; not a word. Some thought he crossed over 
 to France, and some thought he went out to America — 
 but no one could ever tell. For a long time we expected 
 he’d write home, but no letter ever came ; and then we 
 began to think he heerd of his wife been lost, with the 
 rest of the passengers in the Saldana, and made up his 
 mind to bury himself in some distant country for the rest 
 of his life.” 
 
 Gentlemen,” said the chairman, addressing his breth- 
 ren of the bench, perhaps you wish to examine the 
 witness further.” 
 
 No one seemed inclined, however, to interfere ; and 
 then he turned to Father Brennan and his learned com- 
 panion, and observed, somewhat quaintly, that the his- 
 tory of the rosary was a very interesting one, and likely 
 to involve important consequences. 
 
 Important, I trust, for your young friend here,” said 
 the priest, in reply. Her tender devotion to the Mother 
 of God, and her constant practice of saying the rosary, 
 will soon find their reward, I hope, in the discovery of a 
 long-lost parent.” 
 
 It’s a very curious affair all through.” 
 
 Remarkably so ; but 3^ou know, captain, I often told 
 you how God Almighty makes use of strange means 
 sometimes to accomplish his designs. The discovery of 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 353 
 
 one rosary by the loss of the other, is clearly provi- 
 dential.^^ 
 
 By the Lord Harry, it looks very like it,^^ exclaimed 
 the captain. To judge from the circumstances, one 
 would suppose Providence had certainly some hand in it. 
 But we must try to get through the business of the 
 court a little faster, or we shall have to stay here all 
 night. Witness,^^ he continued, again resuming the ex- 
 amination, I have another question to ask before I dis- 
 miss you. Can you remember what day it was Miss Lee 
 first missed her rosary ? 
 
 I cannot, sir, exactly ; but I think it was on or about 
 the time Mr. Weeks paid his first visit to the light- 
 house.^^ 
 
 Yes ; about that time, you think — you can^t swear 
 to the day ? 
 
 No ; I can’t swear to that — but Miss Lee is here 
 present ; ye can ask her.” 
 
 The captain hesitated a moment — at a loss whether 
 to call on Mary for her testimony in presence of so many 
 spectators, or suffer the circumstance to pass unnoticed, 
 and come to some conclusion respecting the cabin boy 
 without further delay. His deliberation, however, was 
 suddenly interrupted by the sheriff, who now rose and 
 begged to be permitted to leave with his prisoner as 
 soon as possible — it being late in the afternoon, and the 
 distance to Lifford jail some six hours’ travel. 
 
 What’s the amount of the debt ? ” demanded Else, 
 interrupting the captain, who was about to reply to the 
 sheriff. Mr. Lee shan’t leave here the night in your 
 costidy if I can help it. How much is the debt ? ” 
 
 The sheriff, looking for an instant at the execution, 
 named the sum. 
 
 ''Humph!” ejaculated Else, running her hand down 
 into her pocket and drawing out her wallet — " humph 1 
 the sum’s big but I’ve enough here to pay it.” 
 
 " You ? ” 
 
 "Ay, me. Hah I hah! Isn’t a witch’s money as 
 good as a queen’s, if it’s current ? Mr. Weeks there 
 30 * 
 
§54 
 
 MAIIY LEE, OR 
 
 will tell ye these notes come fresh from the bank ; hah, 
 hah ! 
 
 Why, how^s this ? demanded the captain ; how did 
 you come by this large amount of money ? 
 
 That^s not a fair question, captain, and I^m not 
 bound to answer it ; but to plaze ye Til tell ye : I got 
 eighty pounds of it from that gentleman there, Mr. 
 Weeks, for sarvices rendered, an the rest here in goold I 
 saved from my husband^s earnins. Here, Misther Sheriff, 
 count out yer money, and let the prisoner go.^^ 
 
 The sheriff took the bills and gold, and laid them on 
 the table ; then counting over the amount marked on the 
 back of the execution, he receipted for the same, and 
 handed the document, with the balance of the money, 
 over to the witness. 
 
 While this transaction was passing, the whole audi- 
 ence seemed in commotion ; every one expressing his 
 astonishment to his neighbor, that a woman of so infa- 
 mous a character as the fortune-teller of the Cairn, 
 should thus part with the gold she loved so much to 
 save a comparative stranger from the hands of the law. 
 Even the light-keeper himself was taken completely by 
 surprise, and the magistrates looked at one another, and 
 shook their heads, as if they suspected some mischief 
 at the bottom of it. As the sheriff was about to con- 
 sign the bills to his pocket-book, a sudden thought 
 seemed to strike him, and drawing out a small bank 
 detector, he laid it before him, and took up one of the 
 notes to examine it. 
 
 Humph ! he ejaculated, after a pause of considera- 
 ble length ; I might have suspected as much. Wit- 
 ness, let me see that note of hand and execution for a 
 moment — I fear I made a mistake. 
 
 Too late, sheriff,^^ responded the old woman — too 
 late ; but if the fragments M be of any use to ye, they^re 
 here at my feet.^^ 
 
 Anything wrong ? inquired the chairman. 
 
 ''Yes, sir; these notes are counterfeits on the Bank 
 of Dublin.^^ 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 355 
 
 Counterfeits ! 
 
 Not a doubt of it, sir. The Dublin Bank, in its last 
 circular, cautions the public against tens and twenties, 
 counterfeits of its new plates ; and here,^^ he added, 
 handing the detector and one of the notes up to the 
 bench, ^^you can see in an instant the plate is a 
 forgery. 
 
 The captain examined it for a moment, and then turn- 
 ing to the witness, demanded to know if she could affirm 
 on oath these notes were given her by Mr. Weeks. 
 
 '' I protest against putting that question to a woman 
 of such disreputable character, cried Hard wrinkle, and 
 but this moment convicted of an attempt to pass coun- 
 terfeit money. I object to the question. 
 
 Those of the spectators within hearing of this unex- 
 pected disclosure, who happened to have had any deal- 
 ings with Weeks during his short stay in the neighbor- 
 hood, now began to feel alarmed ; and one of them, a 
 dealer in dry goods, who had furnished him with fishing 
 tackle, gaffs, landing nets, &c., stood up and begged to 
 inform the bench he had now in his possession a bank 
 note from Weeks in payment for goods delivered, and 
 prayed the chairman to examine it. 
 
 The latter took the paper, and after looking at it for a 
 moment, pronounced it an impression from the same 
 plate. 
 
 Kerens another, plase yer honor, cried a little tailor, 
 who had mounted on the shoulders of his neighbors, and 
 flourished a bill over the heads of the audience ; here^s 
 another I got from Mr. Hard wrinkle, and Fm afeerd it^s 
 of the same family.’^ 
 
 Send it up.^’ 
 
 The tailor’s note, like the haberdasher’s, proved also 
 to be a counterfeit. 
 
 Clerk,” said the captain, make out a warrant in- 
 stantly for the arrest of Ephraim C. B. Weeks, in the 
 name of the state, on a charge of having uttered coun- 
 terfeit money.” 
 
 ** And I,” said the light-keeper, as Mary Lee’s guar- 
 
356 
 
 MAEY LEE, OR 
 
 dian, charge Ephraim C. B. Weeks with having stolen 
 that young lady^s rosary from my house at Araheera 
 Head/' 
 
 Clerk, when you have made out the warrant, take 
 Mr. Lee's deposition. Witness," he added, motioning 
 to Else Curley, ^^you have done — you may retire." 
 
 Ay, ay," muttered Else, drawing the hood of her 
 ^ old gray cloak over her head as she turned to leave the 
 witness stand ; Fll retire now, but there's more work 
 to be done yit afore the sun sets. Let the wrong-doers 
 luck to themselves." 
 
 Stop, woman ! for whom is that threat intended ? " 
 demanded Hard wrinkle. 
 
 Ask yer own conscience," replied Else, halting on 
 her step, and casting back a look of intense hatred at 
 her persecutor ; ask yer own conscience, if ye have 
 any. All I say to ye now, Robert Hardwrinkle — luck to 
 yerself, for God will soon call ye to yer reckonin ; and 
 so saying, the old woman slowly descended the steps, and 
 silently took her place close by the dock where Randall 
 Barry stood patiently awaiting his doom. 
 
 The reader, perhaps, may think it strange that such 
 insulting language as Else Curley uttered during her ex- 
 amination should have been permitted in a court of jus- 
 tice ; but it must be remembered that Else bore the rep- 
 utation of witch and sorceress, and in that character 
 claimed for herself privileges and immunities which no 
 ordinary woman would dare have aspired to. Besides, 
 she was well aware that as long as Captain Petersham 
 presided in court, she had little reason to fear Hardwrin- 
 kle's resentment. In addition to all this, however. Else 
 Curley was naturally a bold, fearless woman. Her look, 
 her speech, her very gait proclaimed her such the mo- 
 ment she appeared. Supercilious to her equals, she was 
 as arrogant in her intercourse with those above her ; and 
 very likely had the judges of assize presided in that court 
 house, surrounded by all the pomp and circumstance of 
 supreme judicial power, instead of humble county magis- 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 357 
 
 trates, Else’s conduct towards Hardwrinkle would have 
 undergone but little change. 
 
 '' Miss Lee/^ said the chairman, when Else had retired, 
 
 I regret exceedingly to be obliged to call on you for 
 testimony in this case, or rather, that your uncle's dep- 
 osition, just made, requires it. But you will perceive 
 it's a matter of grave importance, and needs a thorough 
 and patient investigation. Have the goodness, if you 
 please, to take the witness stand." 
 
 As Mary rose and advanced, leaning on Kate's arm, 
 her whole frame trembled, and her heart seemed to sink 
 within her at the thought of being exposed and ques- 
 tioned before so many spectators. In passing the dock 
 where Randall Barry stood shackled, patiently awaiting 
 his trial, she raised her handkerchief to her face, under 
 her veil, as if to hide it more effectually from her lover's 
 gaze, and timidly ascended the platform. 
 
 The moment the audience saw the graceful figure of 
 the young witness, and heard it whispered about she was 
 the light-keeper's daughter, a general rush was made in 
 the direction of the bench. Those in front forced their 
 way along the passages either side the council table, and, 
 despite the threats and efforts of both policemen and 
 magistrates, succeeded in obtaining positions where they 
 could behold the far-famed beauty of Araheera Head. 
 
 '*Your name is Mary Lee — is it not?" began the 
 captain, after silence was again restored. 
 
 Yes, sir." 
 
 Will the witness have the goodness to remove her 
 veil ? " said Hardwrinkle. 
 
 Mary trembled as she heard the words, but made no 
 motion to comply with the order. 
 
 I must insist upon it, however painful." 
 
 '' Miss Lee, I fear you must gratify the gentleman in 
 this little matter," said the captain. According to the 
 usage of the court, the witness should uncover the face 
 during examination. I had hoped, indeed, Mr. Hard- 
 wrinkle, under the painful circumstances of the case, 
 
358 
 
 MARY LEE, OR 
 
 might have waived this point of court etiquette ; but I 
 find I have been mistaken/^ 
 
 Mary slowly raised her veil, and, with trembling hands, 
 laid it gently over her shoulder. As she did so, a mur- 
 mur of admiration broke from the crowd of spectators, 
 like that we sometimes hear at public exhibitions, when 
 the covering is removed from the face of a beautiful 
 statue. 
 
 '' God bless me I how lovely she is ! exclaimed one 
 of the magistrates, unconscious of what he said, and 
 gazing on her face as if it had been a vision. 
 
 And well he might gaze, for never saw he such a form 
 and face before. And yet it was not so much in those 
 features, so perfectly moulded by the plastic hand of 
 Nature, that her beauty lay, as in the angelic blush and 
 unaffected modesty with which her pure soul had so radi- 
 antly suffused them. 
 
 Dear reader, this lovely girl was a child of Mary — an 
 humble, gentle servant of the Mother of Jesus. And 
 there lay the great secret of her beauty. The perfection 
 of her features nature gave her, but that which defies all 
 the art of the sculptor or the painter — that inexpressible 
 charm which animated them — was the gift of religion. 
 
 Looking at this exquisite being, as she stood there be- 
 fore the admiring multitude, her eyes cast down, and her 
 cheeks covered with blushes, one could hardly help think- 
 ing of those fine lines of Williamses Sister of Charity : — 
 
 Thy soothing how gentle ! thy pity how tender ! 
 
 Choir-music thy voice is, thy step angel gi'ace, 
 
 And thy union with Deity shrines in a splendor 
 Subdued, but unearthly, thy spiritual face. 
 
 Miss Lee, have the goodness to look at this, and see 
 if you can recognize it,^^ resumed the captain, handing 
 her the rosary. 
 
 After a mementos examination, she replied in the nega- 
 tive. 
 
 Any marks by which you can distinguish it from 
 yours ? 
 
THE YANKJEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 359 
 
 Mine, sir,^^ she replied, ** was much more worn than 
 this.^' 
 
 '' Ah ! from constant use, I suppose/^ said the captain. 
 
 Mary kept her eyes cast down, but said nothing in 
 reply. 
 
 ‘'Don^t blush, my child, don’t blush; you love your 
 religion, and practise it. I wish to Heaven we could all 
 say as much for ourselves. As to the devotion of the 
 rosary, though I’m far from being a Catholic myself, I 
 look upon it as the most beautiful devotion in the world.” 
 
 Thank you, captain,” said the priest; thank you 
 for your generous testimony. You’ll find,” he added, 
 before very long, there’s a charm in the rosary you lit- 
 tle suspected. The Immaculate Virgin, whom that spot- 
 less creature has so long served with such tender affec- 
 tion, will not suffer her love to go unrequited.” 
 
 don’t know, but by the Lord Harry,” responded 
 the burly captain, I’m beginning to think there’s some 
 mysterious influence at work ; ” and he hitched his chair 
 a little closer to the desk, as if he felt an increasing in- 
 terest in the investigation. 
 
 And now, Miss Lee, can you inform the bench when 
 you missed the rosary ? ” 
 
 On the I2th of — ” 
 
 From what place ? ” 
 
 '' From an old family Bible, in which I usually kept 
 it.” 
 
 '' Did you make a thorough search for it ? ” 
 
 Yes, sir.” 
 
 "'Did you see Mr. Weeks, here present, at the light- 
 house on that day ? ” 
 
 I did, sir.” 
 
 Where — in what part of the honse ? ” 
 
 In the parlor.” 
 
 Was it in that room you kept the Bible ? ” 
 
 Yes, sir.” 
 
 Did any other person visit the lighthouse on that 
 day ? ” 
 
 A gentleman called, but did not enter the parlor.” 
 
360 
 
 MAEY LEE, OR 
 
 I have but one more question to ask, Miss Lee. Are 
 you of opinion that some one not a member of your fami- 
 ly took or stole the rosary ? 
 
 I am, sir.^^ 
 
 '' Whom do you suspect ? 
 
 ** I know of no one who could have taken it but the 
 gentleman I saw in the parlor. 
 
 '^That^s enough, Miss Lee — you may retire,^^ said 
 the captain, leaning hack in his chair. Gentlemen, 
 he continued, addressing his associates, the testimony of 
 the sick girl, Mr. Hardwrinkle^s servant, who found the 
 rosary on the floor of Weekses room, the morning after his 
 first visit to the lighthouse, and Miss Lee^s corroborative 
 evidence, make the case a pretty clear one against 
 Weeks ; and as it comes within our jurisdiction, being 
 but a case of petty theft, we must commit him, and send 
 the forgery affair up to a higher court. 
 
 ^'Hold on a minute, exclaimed the Yankee; ''you 
 ain^t a-going to commit me, I expect, without hearing me 
 in my own defence 
 
 " Well, sir, go on,^^ replied the chairman ; " proceed, 
 but don^t be long about it, for we haven’t much time to 
 spare. This trial has taken up too much of our time al- 
 ready.” 
 
 " Well,” said Weeks, gathering in his legs and rising 
 to his feet, '* I can’t say I know much of English law, 
 though I do think I’m pretty well posted up in law of the 
 States. But, gents, I’ve got a sorter notion — well, I may 
 be mistaken, ye know — but still, I’ve got a sorter notion 
 that there’s no law to be found in any civilized country 
 in the world to punish a man when he hain’t committed 
 no crime. I guess that’s a point won’t admit of much 
 dispute, any how. Well, let’s see now what injustice I 
 have committed. There’s Miss Lee to begin with ; I 
 hain’t stolen her rosary. I took it, I allow — inadver- 
 tently put it in my pocket ; but I had no intention of 
 stealing it, not a mite. We Yankees ain’t a given to 
 hooking, as a general thing ; it ain’t our nature. We 
 speklate once in a while beyond our capital, and come 
 
THE YANB^EE IN IRELAND. 
 
 361 
 
 it over greenhorns now and then in the way of trade, but 
 hooking ain^t a Yankee trick, no now, specially such a 
 tid-re-eye consarn as that. I acknowledge I took it, 
 gents, and you may do what you Ve a mind to about it ; 
 but as for hooking the affair, I swonnie I never thought 
 of it from the time I left the lighthouse till cousin Rebec- 
 ca showed me the darned thing a day or two after, and 
 called me a Papist in disguise for having it in my pos- 
 session. Now, as to this old lady here, she hain^t got 
 nothing to complain of either, that I know of. The hull 
 amount of the matter is, she did nothing for me, and I 
 paid her nothing ; ain^t that so, gents ? Ha, ha ! the old 
 thing thought she was smart — and so she is a darned 
 sight smarter than I took her for — but she forgot she had 
 a Yankee to deal with ; and Weeks shut one eye as he 
 spoke, and thrust his hands down into his breeches pock- 
 ets — she forgot she’d a Yankee to deal with, a live 
 Yankee, with his eye peeled, and fresh from Connecti- 
 cut/^ 
 
 Here the magistrates, after commanding silence several 
 times, (for the audience got so tickled at Weekses lan- 
 guage and gestures they could no longer restrain them- 
 selves,) at length broke out into a loud laugh, the cap- 
 tain^s fat sides shaking as he turned to and fro to say a 
 merry word to the priest or his next neighbor on the 
 bench. 
 
 Silence, you rascals down below there, he cried, 
 when he recovered himself. '' Canft a man speak without 
 a brogue on his tongue, but you must laugh at him ? Si- 
 lence, and let the man be heard. 
 
 '' Stand him up, captain, jewel ; stand him up on the 
 table — we canft hear him,’^ responded several voices in 
 the crowd. 
 
 Up with him ! up with him ! ’’ now became the gen- 
 eral cry, and Weeks, in the midst of the uproar, mounted 
 the table, and trusting to his own resources to elicit 
 sympathy from the audience, boldly resumed his defence. 
 
 Well,’^ said he, pulling up his shirt collar and push- 
 ing back his long sandy hair behind his ears, as he looked 
 31 
 
862 
 
 MAEY LEE, OE 
 
 round the hall — '"well, ladies and gents, I guess I 
 hain^t got a great deal more to say. All of you know 
 pretty much by this time that Pm a stranger in these 
 parts, and I know, on the other hand, you^re Irish to a 
 man. Well, I ain^t a-goin to make the inference — no, I 
 leave that to yourself. All I shall say is, the Irish at 
 hum and abroad are famous for their hospitality to the 
 stranger. 
 
 Be aisy, avourneen,^^ said somebody near the door ; 
 '' be aisy now, and don’t be try in to soft soap us that 
 way. Don^t ye remimber the weddin at Ballymagahey ? ” 
 
 Well, there ! ” exclaimed Weeks, turning round to 
 
 look. 
 
 Who^s that ? ” demanded the captain. 
 
 By thunder ! if it ain^t the tarnal rascal again ! ” 
 
 Who ? 
 
 ** Lanty Hanlon, if he’s alive.” 
 
 Impossible — the police are now in pursuit of him.” 
 
 ** Well, pursuit or not,” replied Weeks, '' if he’s out 
 of limbo, that’s he, or I ain’t Ephraim 0. B. Weeks.” 
 
 Police, see who that fellow is,” said the captain. 
 
 Lanty Hanlon’s the man, and no mistake,” repeated 
 Weeks. I could swear to his voice on the top of 
 Mount Tom.” 
 
 ''Ho there I at the door below I has the detachment 
 from Milfred arrived ? ” demanded Hardwrinkle. 
 
 The answer came up in the affirmative. 
 
 " Then let search be made instantly for Lanty Hanlon. 
 You, sergeant, hold a warrant for his arrest — see that 
 he escape not, at your peril.” 
 
 " What I how’s this ? ” demanded Captain Petersham 
 — "a reenforcement without my knowledge or consent ? ” 
 
 " I apprehended a riot and rescue of the prisoner,” 
 replied Hardwrinkle. 
 
 "Hal a rescue! ” and the captain turned to look at 
 the young outlaw. " Eescue a man with a broken arm, 
 under charge of constables ! What, shackled, too ! — 
 good heavens ! this is barbarous. Constable, remove 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 363 
 
 those irons — off with them instantly. What ! chained 
 like a felon, even before he is found guilty 1 
 
 '' He^s a bold, daring fellow, pleaded Hardwrinkle. 
 
 Psaugh I psaugh ! sir, your explanation only makes 
 the matter worse. Your conduct's a disgrace to this 
 bench, sir, and an outrage on the feelings of your brother 
 magistrates.^' 
 
 Hush, hush ! ' captain," remonstrated the priest, lay- 
 ing his hand on his friend's arm and speaking low. 
 
 You must take another time and place to rebuke Mr. 
 Hardwrinkle." 
 
 No, sir, I shall not," replied the indignant captain. 
 
 This is the proper time and place to rebuke him ; and 
 I tell him now, here in open court, that his conduct 
 throughout this whole affair has been both unchristian 
 and ungentlemanly." 
 
 Captain Petersham, you know I'm a man of peace,!' 
 said Hardwrinkle, or you would hardly dare to utter 
 such language here." 
 
 Dare I " and the captain turned on him such a look as 
 might have withered him up. 
 
 I shall quit the court under protest," said Hard- 
 wrinkle, rising, since neither the law nor the feelings 
 of a gentleman are respected here." 
 
 ''Not an inch, sir. Move but one step from where 
 you stand, and I commit you." 
 
 " What I commit me ? " 
 
 " Ay, you, sir, for conspiring with your worthy cousin 
 there to carry off by force and violence the person of 
 Mary Lee, in an open boat from Araheera Head to Malin- 
 more, in the event of her not consenting to the marriage. 
 I have now, sir, in my possession due information to that 
 effect, sworn by two of the very men you engaged to 
 execute that damnable design." 
 
 " The charge is false," said Hardwrinkle, but in tones 
 so low and husky that the very sounds spoke his guilt. 
 
 " And that no time might be lost," pursued the cap- 
 tain, without noticing the denial, — " that no time might 
 be lost, the young lady was to have been carried off this 
 
364 
 
 MAEY LEE, OR 
 
 very night, as soon as the sheriff had removed her uncle, 
 and no one left to protect her, in that remote and des- 
 olate spot, but her old and feeble servant, Roger 
 O^Shaughnessy/^ 
 
 Here a murmur of indignation ran through the audi- 
 ence, and every eye turned on Hardwrinkle. That gen- 
 tleman made no reply, however, but after a mementos 
 reflection quietly resumed his seat, as if he had made* up 
 his mind to bear his sufierings with the patience and 
 humility of a martyr. 
 
 During the interruption. Weeks stood on the table, or 
 platform, with his hands driven down into his breeches 
 pockets, and apparently as little concerned at what was 
 passing as if Hardwrinkle had not been a drop^s blood 
 to him in the world. Even when the charge of con- 
 spiring to carry ofi’ Mary Lee was made • against that 
 respectable relation, he hitched up his shoulders, and 
 jingled the silver as usual, but showed no sign of either 
 surprise or resentment. At length, however, silence was 
 restored, and at a nod from the chairman. Weeks again 
 pulled up his shirt collar and resumed his defence. 
 
 Well, ladies and gents, I ain^t a-goin to detain you 
 long. No ; speech-making ain^t in my line ; but still, you 
 know, every man should be able to tell his own story. 
 Well, as to this darned old critter here, half devil, half 
 catamount, I guess I have given a pretty considerable 
 fair account of my transaction with her — well, enough 
 to show I hain^t done her no wrong, any how. Then, as 
 to the dry goods man, let him produce his bill, and if I 
 hain^t paid him the full value of his goods already in 
 pure gold, independent of the fifty dollar note, why, Fm 
 ready to sufier the consequences ; that^s all. I calklate, 
 gents, to give every man his due, but dang a copper 
 more ; and if I find a man tryin to impose on me, I 
 manage, some how or other, to pay him off in his own 
 coin. I repeat it, gents, let this dry goods man, who 
 supplied me with fishing tackle and all that sorter thing, 
 let him stand up here and produce his bill. That^s plain 
 talk; ain^t it, gents? Well, then, all that remains now, 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 365 
 
 is to account for my transaction with Mr. Hardwrinkle 
 here about that note. It goes agin me to do it, it does 
 — that’s a fact ; but considering the fix I’ve got into, I 
 feel bound to go through with it. Mr. Hardwrinkle may 
 feel a little put out about it, I guess, but he’s here, you 
 know, on his own soil, while I’m a stranger, and nothing 
 to depend on but the bare truth. Besides, this is about 
 the last day, I reckon, I can spend conveniently in this 
 section of the country, and for the sake of New England, 
 should like to leave it with a good name.” 
 
 And why wudn’t ye, asthore — by the powers, ye 
 earned it richly,” said some one close by, in a stage 
 whisper. Faith, yer a credit to the country ye came 
 from, avourneen,^^ 
 
 Silence, there,” commanded the chairman, hardly 
 able to suppress ’a laugh ; silence, there, and respect 
 the court.” 
 
 ''Go ahead,” cried Weeks, "whoever you be; go 
 ahead ; I’ll wait till you’ve got through. I ain’t in no 
 hurry.” 
 
 " Proceed, Mr. Weeks, and don’t mind the fellow.” 
 
 " Well, the hull amount of the matter is, the note cost 
 Mr. Hardwrinkle nothing, not the first brass cent ; he 
 got it from a Dublin attorney, on commission, to make 
 the most he could on’t.” 
 
 Hardwrinkle here attempted to interrupt him, but the 
 captain interposed, and the speaker continued. 
 
 "I ain’t surprised at Mr. Hard wrinkle’s gettin riled, 
 not a mite, for I swonnie it looks kinder mean in me to 
 talk so after enjoying his hospitality ; but I’ve got into a 
 sorter snarl, gents, you see, about this here marriage 
 concern, and I must tell the truth, for I don’t see any 
 other chance of getting out of it. Well, then, to be 
 plain about it, we had an understanding — Mr. Hard- 
 wrinkle and I had — well, it was just like this : if we 
 succeeded in getting rid of Lee by means of the note, 
 and could then induce the young lady to marry right 
 straight off, or, if she refused, to carry her ofi* to the 
 nearest place we could catch a vessel bound for the 
 31 * 
 
366 
 
 MARY LEE, OR 
 
 States — I say, if we succeeded in this, Mr. Hardwrin- 
 kle was to have ten thousand dollars cash, and I run the 
 risk of the note, succeed or fail.^^ 
 
 Scoundrel ! ejaculated Hardwrinkle, hissing the 
 words between his teeth. Gentlemen, this is the most 
 outrageous falsehood — 
 
 '' Psaugh I hold on a bit — don^t get riled. Cousin 
 Robert. 
 
 But what could I expect, when the fellow^s ignorant 
 of the very first principles of religion 
 
 Do say ! Well, I never made much pretension about 
 it, you know, cousin, and so you couldn^t expect much 
 from me in that line ; but for you, who^s praying and 
 reading the Bible most part the time through the week, 
 and Sabbath especially, why, it was going it a leetle mite 
 too strong to try to do me out that* note — warn^t it 
 now. Cousin Robert ? By crackie. Bob, for a pious. God- 
 fearing man, you^re about as smart a one as Vwe met 
 since I left Connecticut ; you are, I swow ; no mistake 
 about it. But, gents, I don^t see no use now in talking 
 over the matter further. I was a-goin to produce Mr. 
 Hardwrinkle^ s letters to me before I left the States about 
 this here marriage, to show you I ain^t the only one to 
 blame in the transaction ; but I guess it^s just as well to 
 let the matter drop as it is. As regards the speculation 
 I came here on, why, all can be said about it is, I failed 
 — that^s the amount of it. The fact is, gents, I always 
 heard the Irish were an almighty green sort of folks, 
 both at hum and abroad, and thought a Yankee, specially 
 a Connecticut Yankee, had nothing to do but go right 
 straight along soon^s he got among them ; but I find 
 now I made a slight mistake in that respect. It ain^t 
 so, gents ; the Irish at hum ain^t so green by a long 
 chalk as some Vve met in Vermont.^^ 
 
 Nor all the Yankees so smart as they think,^^ added 
 the captain, smiling. 
 
 Well, sometimes we get sniggled, you know, like 
 the rest of folks. Well, iPs just like this : we hain^t 
 got to our full growth yet, but give us fifty years more 
 
THE YAl^KEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 367 
 
 to get our eye teeth cut, and I tell you what, captain, 
 should like to see the foreigner then could come the 
 blind side of us ; that man M be a caution, I tell ye. 
 As for Mr. Hardwrinkle here, I don^t wonder he^s smart, 
 for he belongs to a pretty considerable smart kinder 
 family. Well, he^s got a cousin in Ducksville, name of 
 Weeks, said to be about as smart a man as you can 
 scare up in that section of the country ; and still he 
 hain’t been a hundred miles from home, I guess, all his 
 lifetime. 
 
 Brother of yours, I suppose, said the captain. 
 
 Well, no, he ain^t.^^ 
 
 I thought, being a Ducksville man, and a cousin of 
 Mr. Hardwrinkle^s here, he might be your brother, or 
 cousin, at least. 
 
 No, not exactly ; he’s much about the same, though, 
 we’ve always been so intimate. It was he first told me 
 of his relations here, the Hard wrinkles.” 
 
 First told you! What, did you not know that al- 
 ready ? ” 
 
 '' No ; can’t say I did.” 
 
 Are you not Mr. Hardwrinkle’s cousin? ” 
 
 Not that I know of.” 
 
 Not that you know of! why, how’s this ? Have you 
 not passed for a cousin of Mr. Hardwrinkle’s since you 
 came to reside here ? ” 
 
 Well, yes, pretty much, I guess.” 
 
 Pretty much ! Why, sir — ” 
 
 ''Hold on,” said Weeks, "hold on a moment, cap- 
 tain ; I can explain that, too, quite to your satisfaction, 
 I reckon. The Weeks family, then, you must know, and 
 ourn were terrible intimate, being next neighbors for a 
 little more than twenty years — well, the fact is, we got 
 to be so intimate we never made any difference with re- 
 spect to relationship, or that sorter thing — not a mite.” 
 
 " Stop ; you don’t apprehend the question, I suspect; 
 I want you, sir, to tell us in plain terms, and briefly as 
 possible, whether you are. Or are not, a relative of Mr. 
 Robert Hardwrinkle here present ; ” and the captain 
 
368 
 
 MARY LEE, OR 
 
 motioned to the latter gentleman, who, to the infinite 
 merriment of the beholders, kept gazing at the Yankee 
 in undisguised astonishment. 
 
 '' Well, come to think of it,^^ replied Weeks, as if he 
 had been trying hard to recollect himself, come to 
 think of it, I guess there is some relationship.^’ 
 
 You guess there is ! ” 
 
 Yes, I rather think so — by marriage.” 
 
 Mr. Weeks,” said Hard wrinkle, remember you are 
 now in a court of justice.” 
 
 Allow me, Mr. Hardwrinkle,” interposed the chair- 
 man ; I shall finish in a minute or two. Your turn 
 comes next. You say you guess there is some relation- 
 ship by marriage, Mr. Weeks.” 
 
 Yes ; one of the Weeks married a Bigelow, if I don’t 
 greatly mistake, somewhere about the end of the revolu- 
 tionary war or thereaway. I kinder think Uncle Nathan 
 used to — ” 
 
 Stop, stop, sir ! Confound you and Uncle Nathan. 
 You can’t speak a sentence, sir, but you have Uncle Na- 
 than at the head and tail of it. Answer at once, sir ; 
 are you or are you not a cousin of Mr. Hard wrinkle’s ? ” 
 Why, as to blood relationship, I guess there ain’t 
 much of that to speak of. But still it amounts to pretty 
 much the same thing in the end. The Weeks and Bige- 
 lows were always in and out, you know, like one family. 
 And then young Ephraim and I — or Eph, as we used to 
 call him ’bout the doors — went to school together for 
 eight or ten years, and never kept a secret from one 
 another more than if we had been twin brothers.” 
 
 Well, by the Lord Harry,” cried the captain, turn- 
 ing to his associates, if this ain’t the coolest fellow I’ve 
 met in my day I And so,” he continued, looking at the 
 imperturbable Yankee, ^'it turns out at last there’s no 
 relationship at all between you ! ” 
 
 No, guess not, except by marriage. Still, it’s much 
 about the same thing. The Weeks have always been as 
 intimate with us as cousins Could be. Well, in fact we 
 were cousins in every thing but the near blood?” 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 369 
 
 Ha, ha ! laughed the captain ; this is capital, eh ! 
 Not only outwitted your friend here by passing counter- 
 feit bills, but passed yourself off, too, as his American 
 cousin, eating and drinking of the best in his house. 
 Ha, ha ! by George, that beats Bannaher.^^ — Here the au- 
 dience, at length fully comprehending how matters stood, 
 broke out into a general laugh, in the midst of which 
 a curly-headed fellow, mounting on a window-sill, waved 
 his hat and shouted at the top of his voice, '' More 
 power to ye. Weeks, more power to ye, Ma bonchal.*^ 
 ^Pon my conscience, captain, jewel, iPs chaired he 
 ought to be, instid of sint to jail,^^ cried another. 
 
 The chairman now rose to command silence in the 
 court, but was met with cheers for Weeks and groans 
 for Hardwrinkle. Hurrah for the bowld Yankee — 
 down with the black sarpint.^^ 
 
 Order ! police, keep order tliere below ! Silence, 
 you vagabonds, silence ! cried the captain; ^^this is 
 pretty conduct in a court of justice. 
 
 '^Send him out till we chair him, captain, send him 
 out ; he desarves it for puttin the ' Leek ^ in Black 
 Eobert.^^ 
 
 The police, after several efforts, at length succeeded in 
 restoring silence, and the chairman was about to take up 
 the charge against Randall Barry, when Weeks, who still 
 coolly maintained his position in front of the bench, his 
 hands, as usual, driven down into his pockets, begged 
 leave to say a word or two before he left. 
 
 I shan’t keep you long,^^ he said ; no, a word or 
 two is all Pve got to say. I came to this country, 
 gents, as most of you know by this time, on a matrimo- 
 nial speculation. Well, I failed — I did — no mistake 
 about that. Now, then, gents, all I ask in return for my 
 loss of time and money — not to speak of several mis- 
 haps in trying to put the thing through — is simply 
 this : that you wonH let the darned affair get into the 
 newspapers. Vm a Yankee, gents, a full-blooded Yan- 
 kee, of the old Puritan stock, and should hate, of all 
 things, to have it known that a New Englander — and a 
 
370 
 
 MARY LEE, OR 
 
 Connecticut man at that — could be taken in by the Irish. 
 I swonnie, IM rather put for Texas right straight off, 
 than return to the States, and find it published all over 
 the country ; I would by a long chalk. Why, I should 
 ever after be looked on as a disgrace to Yankee land. 
 So, as I said before, I^m willing to put up with the hull 
 of it if you only promise me this tarnal trial shan^t get 
 into the newspapers. 
 
 Cool again, said the captain ; put up with it in- 
 deed ! Any thing more to say ? 
 
 ** No, Pve got through, I guess. 
 
 ** Very well, sir. Constable, take this man in charge.^^ 
 
 Hold on a minute, cried Weeks. 
 
 Take him away.^^ 
 
 See here ! Hold on I Hain^t you made a mistake ? 
 What^s the crime ? 
 
 ** Passing counterfeit notes on the National Bank.^^ 
 
 But who^s cheated, I should like to know ? 
 
 Away with him,^^ commanded the captain. 
 
 ** Look here I 
 
 '' Silence, sir, and quit the stand instantly.’^ 
 
 Well, now, I swonnie, if this ain’t goin it a leetle 
 too strong,” muttered Weeks, as he stepped from J:he 
 platform, in the hands of the constable. I ain’t gone 
 to the county house yet, though ! No, I sorter reckon 
 not. By crackie, captain, you’d better look out, for I 
 tell you what, my dear fellow, you’ll find it no joking 
 matter to incarcerate a citizen of the United States — ” 
 The remainder of the sentence was lost in the murmurs 
 of applause which greeted him from the audience. 
 
 And now the captain was about to call the witnesses 
 in the case against Randall Barry, when the cabin boy 
 rose, and, in feeble accents, begged to have the negro 
 liberated. 
 
 It can’t be,” replied the captain. '' You or he 
 must first acknowledge on what plantation you lived in 
 Virginia, and from whom you got this rosary, found on 
 your person.” 
 
 ** There’s no longer cause for keeping the secret,” 
 
THE YANKEE IN IKELAND. 
 
 371 
 
 said the boy, as Mr. Bigelow is committed for for- 
 gery.'' 
 
 Bigelow ! Soh, ho 1 then his real name is Bigelow." 
 
 Yes ; he was always called Bigelow on the plan- 
 tation." 
 
 Did you know him there ? " 
 
 '^He did so," exclaimed Weeks, again making his 
 appearance before the bench, he did so ; no mistake 
 about that ; many a good lickin I gave him. I'll give 
 you the whole history — " 
 
 Gag that fellow, constable, gag the rascal," cried 
 the captain ; nothing else will stop his tongue." 
 
 '"Hold on a minute." 
 
 " Silence, sir, and sit down." 
 
 " See here, captain ; don't get put out with me. 
 Natty there's sick, and I want to save him the trouble 
 of talking. Besides, I should like to have the credit of 
 telling the hull story myself. Well, the amount of the 
 matter is, the boy and the negro both belong to Mr. 
 Talbot's plantation, in Virginia, and ran away. I was 
 sent after them to hunt them up, and, as if all h — had a 
 hand in it, here they come to this here place of all other 
 spots in creation, to blow the hull secret." 
 
 " Heaven, you should have said, sir," observed the 
 captain. 
 
 " Heaven or h — ; call it what you've a mind to ; but 
 that tarnal, danged rosary has discovered all." 
 
 " Yes, sir ; Heaven has made use of your villany to 
 requite the very person you would have made its victim 
 for her piety and devotion to the Mother of God. Your 
 scoundrelism, and that of your associate here, under the 
 direction of Providence, resulted in the restoration of a 
 loving child to the arms of a long-lost parent. Miss Lee, 
 I congratulate you most sincerely on the happy issue of 
 this trial, and pray God you may live long — as you have 
 lived ever since I had the happiness of knowing you — 
 the pride and ornament of your sex." 
 
 " God bless her ! God bless the dear girl ! " now re- 
 sounded from all parts of the court house, while the 
 
872 
 
 MAHY LEE, OE 
 
 lovely object of congratulation was herself shedding 
 tears of gratitude to the mother of orphans in the arms 
 of Kate Petersham. 
 
 And now to the prisoner in the dock — who demands 
 his committal ? inquired the captain. 
 
 I do/^ responded Hard wrinkle ; I demand it in the 
 name of the state. Clerk, call Sergeant Joseph Muller. 
 Swear him.^^ 
 
 As the latter came up to the stand, Hardwrinkle 
 pointed to the prisoner. ^^Have you seen that man 
 before ? 
 
 '' I have, sir.^^ 
 
 What is his name ? 
 
 Randall Joseph Barry. 
 
 Do you swear that ? said the captain. 
 
 I do.'' 
 
 " What I did you see him baptized ? " 
 
 No ; but I was brought up within a stone's throw 
 of his father's house." 
 
 Gentlemen," said the prisoner, interrupting the wit- 
 ness, it's quite unnecessary to proceed further in this 
 examination. My name is Randall Joseph Barry ; I am 
 a rebel to the British government, and the same indi- 
 vidual for whose capture the reward of three hundred 
 pounds is now offered by the crown. I have no defence 
 to make, and I ask no favors. Proceed, if it so please 
 you, to make out my committal." 
 
 Fool ! " ejaculated Else Curley. 
 
 Young man, the court does not expect you to make 
 admissions likely to criminate yourself," said the chair- 
 man, casting a reproachful look at the prisoner. 
 
 He has avowed himself a rebel," said Hardwrinkle ; 
 he is therefore unbailable, and now I demand he be 
 committed forthwith to Lifford jail." 
 
 Have you any thing to say in your vindication ? " 
 said the captain ; if you have, we shall hear you 
 patiently." 
 
 Nothing," promptly responded the young outlaw. 
 I have deliberately done that which British law de- 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 373 
 
 dares to be a crime, and am now willing to suffer the 
 consequences. Had I effected my escape to a foreign 
 land, as was my purpose, (and whilst he uttered the 
 words, his eyes involuntarily turned in the direction 
 of Mary Lee, the sole cause of his detention,) had I 
 effected my escape, I should have been there no less 
 an enemy and a rebel to the British government than I 
 am here on my native soil, nor cease for one single day 
 of my life to compass its overthrow. 
 
 Lost ! lost ! exclaimed some one under the bench, 
 in tones so heart-rending that every eye turned in the 
 direction of the voice. It was poor Mary Lee — she had 
 fainted in the arms of Kate Petersham. 
 
 At a single bound the prisoner cleared the dock, and 
 stood beside her breathless form, as it reclined against 
 that of her affectionate companion. 
 
 Instantly the uproar and confusion became so great 
 that Hardwrinkle rose and commanded the police to ad- 
 vance and arrest the prisoner. 
 
 Back ! cried Eandall, his dark eye flashing under 
 the excitement of the scene — back, slaves ; I have 
 no intention to escape ; and he waved his hand at 
 the police as they rushed forward to secure him. 
 
 Forward, fellows ! What stops you, when I give 
 the order ? repeated Hardwrinkle. 
 
 Hold ! said Captain Petersham. Not an inch 
 further. I command here. Constables, keep your 
 places. 
 
 Mary,^’ whispered Randall, stooping over her — 
 ‘'one word — speak to me but one word, and then we 
 part.^^ 
 
 " Part ! murmured the gentle girl, opening her eyes, 
 and looking lovingly into his ; "0 Randall ! Randall ! 
 has it come to this ? 
 
 " Hush, dear Mary ; hush ! whispered Kate ; "it 
 may all be well yet — hush — you have a friend coming 
 you little dreamed of.^' 
 
 " Good by, Mary ; good by I We shall never meet 
 again, said Randall, his face quivering with emotion, 
 32 
 
374 
 
 MARY LEE, OR 
 
 as he uttered the words. '' You have at length found 
 a father, who will love and protect you as I would have 
 done.^^ 
 
 0, stay ! do not leave me,^^ said Mary ; the queen 
 will pardon you. She is so good. 0, no, no ; you shall 
 not leave me — never. 
 
 It cannot be,^^ said Eandall — jny doom is the gal- 
 lows — for pardon I shall never ask.^^ 
 
 Back with ye I back with ye ! hell hounds, give 
 way,^' now came ringing out in tones as clear as a 
 trumpet, from a stout, curly-headed fellow, at the head 
 of some dozen others, cleaving their way through the 
 crowd, and smashing heads and bayonets with their 
 blackthorns in their stormy passage. Give way, ye 
 dogs, give way. To the rescue — corp an dhouly to the 
 rescue. 
 
 '' By the Lord Harry,^^ exclaimed the captain, jump- 
 ing to his feet, '' there comes Lanty Hanlon. I vow 
 to Heaven it is. Well done, my gallant fellow, well 
 done ! 
 
 0 Lanty, you never failed me yet,^^ said Kate, 
 proudly. My life on you for a million. 
 
 Now comes the tug o^ war,^^ said the captain, whis- 
 pering to the priest. 
 
 Police, do your duty,^^ cried Hardwrinkle ; his face 
 no longer wearing its demure aspect, but fired with 
 passion at the danger of losing his victim, after whose 
 blood he had thirsted so long. Do your duty ! I com- 
 mand you.^^ 
 
 For a moment the outlaw looked round the court, 
 as if to calculate his chances of escape — in the next, 
 he was driven forward in the centre of a group towards 
 the door. 
 
 Shoot them down I vociferated Hardwrinkle, ges- 
 ticulating furiously — shoot down the rebel and his 
 rescuers. 
 
 Hold ! hold ! commanded the chairman, in a voice 
 of thunder. '‘The first man that fires dies; he^s not 
 yet committed — hold your fire.^^ 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 375 
 
 By this time Lanty and his men had gained the side 
 of the dock where Else Curley stood, her arms folded as 
 usual, and her keen, deep-sunken eye fixed on Hard- 
 wrinkle. As they did, the whole detachment of police 
 rushed from the door, despite the captain^s orders, and 
 charged the rioters with fixed bayonets. 
 
 Surrender the prisoner, or we fire,^^ cried the lieu- 
 tenant. ** I order you to surrender, in the queen^s name, 
 instantly.’^ 
 
 Cudn^t ye wait till th^ morrow ? said Lanty, sneer- 
 ingly. 
 
 I again command you to surrender the prisoner,^ ^ 
 repeated the officer. 
 
 But hardly had the words escaped his lips when a 
 blow from behind felled him to the ground, and then the 
 riot commenced in good earnest. 
 
 Down with the Sassenach dogs ! shouted Lanty, 
 making his staff play round him in true Celtic fashion. 
 
 Down with them — corp au dhoul — drive them before 
 ye.'' 
 
 Else Curley, at this moment, by some chance or other, 
 succeeded in forcing her way in amongst the combatants, 
 and thrusting the silver-mounted pistol she carried into 
 Kandall's breast, drew forth, herself, the old Spanish 
 dagger, which the reader saw once before at her cabin 
 on the Cairn, and waved it in her brown skeleton hand 
 high over the heads of the rioters. Come on ! " she 
 cried ; the young lion is now with his dam, and see 
 who'll dar injure a hair of his head. Come on ! let the 
 enemy of my house and home come on, and see how 
 soon this good steel 'll drink his heart's blood. Away 
 with him to the door, there, and balk the tiger of his 
 prey — away with him, my hearties." 
 
 Hard wrinkle now jumped from the bench, and calling 
 on the police to stab the prisoner and his rescuers, forced 
 his way also in amongst the rioters, his eyes flashing fire 
 and his face flushed with intense passion. At this mo- 
 ment Randall Barry, after breaking bayonet after bayo- 
 net with the pistol which he held still undischarged in 
 
376 
 
 MAKY LEE, OR 
 
 his hand, turned to defend himself from those in the rear, 
 and met Hardwrinkle face to face. 
 
 Eebel ! cried the latter, snatching a carabine from the 
 next constable — '' rebel, traitor, enemy of your religion 
 and your country, take now the punishment you de- 
 serve ; and as he spoke he attempted to pull the 
 trigger, but his hands trembled so in the fury of his 
 passion that he missed the spring. Next instant Else 
 Curley^s long, bony fingers had grasped him by the 
 throat, and he fell backwards on the flags of the court 
 house, the musket exploding as it reached the floor. 
 
 Lanty and his comrades had now fought their way 
 bravely on, step by step, Randall defending himself with 
 his single arm against the repeated assaults of the con- 
 stables, and still reserving his fire, as if for a last emer- 
 gency. It soon came. 
 
 They had succeeded, indeed, in driving the police be- 
 fore them out through the court house door ; but here 
 the danger and difficulty increased, from the fact that 
 once beyond the threshold. Captain Petersham^s author- 
 ity ceased, as presiding magistrate, and Hardwrinkle was 
 at liberty to give what orders he pleased, if he only as- 
 sumed the responsibility. How he extricated himself 
 from the hands of Else Curley ^twould be impossible to 
 say ; but certain it is, that, much to the surprise of the 
 beholders, he was suddenly seen jumping from a window 
 of the building down on the low wall enclosing the yard, 
 like one demented. 
 
 Fire I he cried, as he alighted and glanced at the 
 preparations made for Barry^s escape — his quick eye 
 detecting in an instant the reason of Moll Pitcher being 
 kept there standing at the gate. Fire ! he repeated ; 
 on your lives let not the prisoner escape — fire I 
 But he had come too late ; Randall had already gained 
 the outside of the yard, borne on by his trusty defend- 
 ers, foremost amongst whom fought Lanty, his head and 
 arms bleeding profusely from bayonet wounds, whilst Ran- 
 dalPs own were hardly in a better condition. 
 
 Hardwrinkle saw there was but one chance remaining, 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 377 
 
 namely, to intercept the fugitive and detain him till the 
 police could come up and arrest him ; and making all 
 possible speed to where his horse stood in the hands 
 of his groom, he mounted and dashed past the gate in 
 order to head the prisoner off. 
 
 Randall, however, was already in the saddle. He had 
 sprung to it by the strength of his single arm, and 
 instantly gathering up the reins, gave Moll the word. 
 The splendid creature, knowing well that something 
 more than usual was expected of her, reared for an 
 instant, and then shot forward like an arrow, making the 
 fire fly from the pavement. 
 
 Glorious ! cried Lanty ; now for it ! If horse- 
 flesh can save ye, Randall Barry, it^s Moll Pitcher.^^ 
 
 Shoot him down ! shoot him down ! vociferated 
 Hardwrinkle, as he rode on before the fugitive with the 
 intention of wheeling round and intercepting him in his 
 flight. 
 
 The words were hardly spoken when three or four 
 shots came in quick succession. They did no mischief, 
 however, — one of them sliglitly. grazing Barry^s cheek, 
 while the others went wide of their mark. 
 
 The crowd now rushed through the gate and over the 
 wall in wild confusion ; some throwing stones at the po- 
 lice, and others venting curses loud and deep against 
 Hardwrinkle and his Sassenach crew. 
 
 Randall saw, as Hardwrinkle wheeled his horse to in- 
 tercept him, that if he happened to be detained but a 
 second, he should, in all probability, fall by a bullet from 
 the police, before he could get out of musket range, and 
 so, drawing the pistol from his breast, he let the reins 
 drop on his horse^s neck, and prepared himself for the 
 worst. He had hardly done so when Hardwrinkle was 
 up within ten yards of him. ^'Keep ofi*l keep off*!^' 
 cried Randall, or I flre.^^ 
 
 But his antagonist took no notice of the warning, and 
 as he rushed on in the blindness of his fury, Randall 
 dropped the muzzle of his pistol, and shot his horse 
 32 * 
 
378 
 
 MARY LEE, OR 
 
 through the head. ''There, take your life,^^ he cried; 
 " I shall never have a dastard^s blood on my hands. 
 
 The horse dropped instantly, the ball passing through 
 his brain. 
 
 And then rose a cheer wild and loud, that made the 
 very heavens ring again, as Eandall was seen flying up 
 the hill on Moll Pitcher, clear of all danger, his long 
 black hair floating on the breeze, and his broken arm still 
 visible in the sling. 
 
 Whilst the crowd stood cheering and gazing after the 
 young outlaw. Else Curley, followed by several of the 
 constables, hurried to the spot where Hardwrinkle had 
 fallen. Else was first on the ground. " Hah ! she 
 cried, as if about to utter some malediction, but suddenly 
 stopped, and bent down to gaze on the face of the fallen 
 man. 
 
 " What^s the matter ? — is he hurt ? demanded the 
 constables. 
 
 " Ay, he^s liurt,^^ responded Else, dryly. 
 
 " He don^t move — how^s that ? 
 
 " He^s dead ! 
 
 " The horse, you mean.^V 
 
 " Horse and rider — they^re both dead.^^ 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 379 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 Weeks escapes in the Riot. — Is pursued by a Constable, — 
 Climbs over a Wall, leaving his Coat-tail behind him in 
 the Constable's Hands, and finally disappears. — Else 
 takes her Leav^e, and retires to Benraven Mountain, there 
 to pass the Remainder of her Life. — Lanty Hanlon, in 
 the Dress of an old Woman, winds up the Story. — 
 Postscript, which is characteristic of the Author of the 
 Preface, terminates the Story in Manner similar to that 
 in which it began. 
 
 On examination, it was found that the unfortunate man 
 had carried a small dirk or stiletto in the breast pocket 
 of his coat, which, having been displaced by the fall, 
 was driven by the crushing weight of the horse fairly 
 through his heart — the animal dropping so suddenly as 
 to leave him no time to extricate his feet from the 
 stirrups. 
 
 Captain Petersham and his friends, on hearing the 
 melancholy intelligence, hastened to the scene of the 
 disaster, and there found the body stretched on the road, 
 and surrounded by a gaping and wondering crowd. 
 
 Dead ? inquired the captain. 
 
 Yes, 3^our honor,’^ replied a policeman, touching his 
 cap ; ‘^he^s dead — this dagger passed straight through 
 his heart ; I drew it out this moment. 
 
 Shocking I exclaimed the priest, stooping and lay- 
 ing his hand on the forehead of the corpse ; most 
 shocking ! Gone to meet his God without a moment^s 
 preparation.^^ 
 
 '' And in the very flush of his guilt, added the cap- 
 tain, gazing at the dead body. ''The victim of his own 
 inveterate prejudices and his love of gold, for Pm very 
 much inclined to think the fear of losing his share of the 
 reward had more to do in driving him to this last act of 
 desperation than his hatred of the young man. Hand 
 
380 
 
 MARY LEE, OR 
 
 me the dagger. Kate, you and Mary had better leave 
 here at once,^^ he continued, turning to his sister ; we 
 shall call for you at Greenmount.^^ 
 
 And bring Father Brennan with you,^^ said Kate ; 
 don^t forget that.^^ 
 
 '' No — but look you here, madcap ; take care not to 
 present Mary suddenly to Mr. Guirkie, as he may lose 
 his senses altogether ; be prudent. 
 
 As the captain took the dagger in his hand to examine 
 it, Eoger O^Shaughnessy, who was standing by, touched 
 him on the arm, and whispered in his ear, That^s Else 
 Curley^s, yer honor.^^ 
 
 This dagger ! 
 
 '' Yes, sir.^^ 
 
 Else Curley^s ! — you must make a mistake, Eoger.^^ 
 
 '' No, sir, that’s her old Spanish dagger. I’d know it 
 amongst a thousand.” 
 
 '' But how could it come into Mr* Hardwrinkle’s pos- 
 session ? ” 
 
 '' Ahem I I don’t know that, yer honor ; unless, whin 
 he was strugglin with her on the floor of the court house, 
 he might have wrested it from her hands.” 
 
 That accounts for it, then,” said the priest. I saw 
 Else waving a dagger after the riot commenced.” 
 
 Humph ! then he died by his enemy’s weapon, though 
 not by his enemy’s hand — curious enough, eh ! ” 
 
 Yes ; and I’m very happy to think the poor old 
 woman, after her long thirty years of deadly enmity to 
 the unfortunate man, is still guiltless of his death.” 
 
 She’s a desperate woman. Father Brennan — desper- 
 ate.” 
 
 True, she was always of a wild, ungovernable tem- 
 per ; but yet not half so bad as she seemed. Her care 
 and love of Mary Lee, the once houseless and homeless 
 orphan, and her fidelity to Eandall Barry, in requital for 
 his uncle’s kindness at the siege of Madeira, are enough 
 to redeem worse women than Else Curley.” 
 
 But where is she ? ” inquired the captain, looking 
 round. 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 381 
 
 Where is she, indeed ! — now that I think of it/^ 
 
 There she is/^ replied some one in the crowd. 
 There, beyont, yer honor, settin on that stone, by the 
 ditch, with the ould goat beside her.^^ 
 
 As the captain, followed by the priest and Dr. Hen- 
 shaw, approached the old woman, she seemed absorbed 
 in deep thought ; her head bent, and her folded arms 
 resting on her knees. 
 
 Else ! said the captain, touching her shoulder, to 
 make her aware of his presence. '^Else Curley ! 
 
 Humph ! ejaculated the old woman, looking up 
 slowly. What^s the matter ? ’’ 
 
 ** Come — you must go with us to Castle Gregory. 
 '^For what? 
 
 We want to see you there. 
 
 Who wants to see me — you ? 
 
 All of us. Mary Lee, in particular, before she 
 leaves. Besides, I should like to make some better pro- 
 vision for your old days, than the cabin on the Cairn 
 affords. 
 
 No, no,’^ said Else, rising and folding her gray cloak 
 round her emaciated shoulders, — no — ITl go to see 
 my foster-child afore she leaves Fanid ; but ITl niver quit 
 the cabin till my bones are carried up to be laid with my 
 sister^s, in Massmount churchyard. And that wonH be 
 long, either ; for now, since the one I loved best has 
 found a father, and him I hated most a grave, I have 
 nothing in this world to live for. In regard to the ould 
 cabin, it's but a dissolit spot to look at, captain, but it's 
 all the world to me. I lived in it so long, and ivry rock 
 and blade of heather about it got so familiar to my eyes, 
 that if ye put me in a palace, I'd steal back to it again." 
 
 ** But, Else, remember you're old," remonstrated the 
 captain, ** and will need some one to take care of you." 
 
 Ay, ay, take care of me ! " she said, with a melan- 
 choly smile. '' Care'd kill me afore my time, captain, 
 I'm so unused to it. No, no ; as I lived alone, I'll 
 die alone." 
 
 But what of your soul, Else ? " said the priest. 
 
382 
 
 MARY LEE, OR 
 
 Ah ! she replied, '^the weight that lay upon it for 
 thirty years is at last removed — and now I begin to feel 
 life in it again 
 
 Thank God, you’re guiltless of the death by which 
 that heavy load was removed, at all events.” 
 
 Amen,” said Else ; amen. Three times did Mary 
 Lee stand atween him and my vengeance, and now, for 
 the fourth, the thought of her kneelin to me at the light- 
 house with tears in her eyes, to persuade me against his 
 murder, held back my hand as I raised it to plunge the 
 dagger in his heart. But he’s dead now, and so is my 
 anger — fare ye well ! fare ye well ! ” and the old solitary 
 turned her steps in the direction of Araheera Head, 
 followed closely by her faithful companion, bleating and 
 trotting after her, to her mountain home. 
 
 There she goes, poor old soul,” said the captain, 
 gazing after her, and leaning his hand on the priest’s 
 shoulder as he spoke ; I fear her death, like her life, 
 will be miserable.” 
 
 No, no ; don’t fear,” said the priest : I’ll take care 
 of her.” 
 
 God bless you ! and for her temporal comfort I’ll 
 look to that myself.” 
 
 Humph ! I see you begin to take an interest in the 
 old woman.” 
 
 Why not? who could help it, after those proofs of 
 fidelity and attachment to Mary Lee ? ” 
 
 0, poor Else ! the creature’s as true as steel. You 
 see how she clung by Randall Barry, too, and protected 
 him even at the imminent hazard of her life. But, by the 
 by, where is Lanty all this time — eh ? ” 
 
 Lanty ! 0, never mind him ; he’ll take care of 
 
 himself.” 
 
 The police may have got hold of him — the unfortu- 
 nate fellow ! ” 
 
 Of Lanty Hanlon ! — no, sir ; there’s but little^'danger 
 of that. He’ll turn up somewhere, depend on it, before 
 the week’s out. Come, we must follow the ladies to 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 383 
 
 Greenmount, and see how Uncle Jerry behaves after his 
 discovery of Mary Lee/^ 
 
 He^ll go crazy, I fear, when he sees her/^ 
 
 Shouldn’t wonder in the least. I told Kate, however, 
 to prepare him for the meeting. But come — I have 
 already given directions for the removal of the body ; ” 
 and the speaker, taking Father John’s arm, turned towards 
 Greenmount, leaving Dr. Henshaw and the light-keeper 
 to follow after. 
 
 They had gone but a short distance, however, when 
 they overtook a woman in a blue cloak and ruffled cap, 
 (both looking rather worse for the wear,) and to judge 
 from the stoop of her shoulders and a distressing cough, 
 evidently very old and sickly. 
 
 '' Hilloa 1 ” cried the captain, in a bantering tone, as he 
 passed her. What the mischief brings such an old hag 
 as you here among blood and bullets ? ” 
 
 Me 1 ” replied the crone. '' Ugh, hugh, captain, 
 dear, it’s no wondher ye say it, for this cough’s killing 
 me. I’m — ugh ! — ugh ! — I’m racked to death’s doore 
 with it ! ” 
 
 Then why didn’t you stay at home ? ” 
 
 Ay, ay, dear ; true enough, captain ; but — ngh, 
 ugh — it’s an ould sayin, and a true one — The ould 
 fool’s the greatest of all fools.” 
 
 Did you see Lanty Hanlon any where about here, 
 lately ? ” inquired the priest. 
 
 Is it me — ugh ! ugh ! ” 
 
 Ay, you,” repeated the captain, half provoked at the 
 delay. 
 
 Ugh, ugh I 0 dear, I can’t spake a word with this 
 terrible cough ; and captain, dear, it’s always wuss about 
 sunset.” 
 
 Confound you and your cough together I Come, 
 Father John, let us hasten on to Greenmount.” 
 
 If it’s Lanty Hanlon ye mane,” said the old woman, 
 at last, I didn’t see him since ye seen him yourself, 
 captain ; ” and the speaker uttered a sort of low chuckle, 
 as if she saw something amusing in the inquiry. 
 
384 
 
 MARY LEE, OR 
 
 ** What^s the matter, now, old dame ? what do you 
 laugh at ? 
 
 To hear ye inquirin for Lanty Hanlon ; and the 
 speaker’s voice changed all of a sudden. 
 
 What ! hilloa ! whom have we got here, eh ? ” and 
 the captain drew back the hood of her cloak. ''Lanty 
 himself! by George, it is ! Why, you unfortunate 
 vagabond, don’t you — ” 
 
 " Whist, whist I the constable’s beside ye, there. 
 Don’t miiition my name for yer life. Eemimber the 
 warrint ye sent afther me for taking the loan of Miss 
 Hardwrinkle.” 
 
 "I do — and I tell you now, Lanty, what you may 
 rest assured of.” 
 
 " Well, sir ? ” 
 
 ''That you’ll be hung if you stay here — you will, 
 sir. By the Lord Harry you will.” 
 
 " Me ! ” 
 
 " Ay, you, sir I ” 
 
 " Hung I ” 
 
 " Yes, sir ; hung by the neck.” 
 
 " That rope’s not made yit, captain, dear. No, no, my 
 pride niver carried me that high.” 
 
 " Quit the country, sir ; quit the country — that’s my 
 advice to you — and quit it immediately, too, for I can 
 save you no longer.” 
 
 " Cudn’t ye hould out for another year, captain ? ” 
 
 " No, sir ; nor for another week, either. Are you not 
 aware that the abduction of Miss Hardwrinkle is a 
 transportable offence ? But why another year, pray?” 
 
 " Well, there’s a sort of a sacret in that,” responded 
 Lanty, wiping the blood from his face. 
 
 " And what’s the secret ? ” 
 
 " Why, then, it isn’t much to spake of, captain, only 
 in regard of a bit of a girl up here, that I had a kind of 
 a notion of, and she tells me she’s not just to say ready, 
 yit.” 
 
 " Ho, ho! that’s it — well, never mind. I’ll make her 
 ready. Who is she ? ” 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 385 
 
 A girl of the Kellys of Minadreen, sir/^ 
 
 A daughter of one of my tenants — very well ; send 
 her up to Castle Gregory to-morrow or next day — 1^11 
 give her her outfit. Send her up, and prepare yourself 
 to leave, for youh'e not safe here an hour.^^ 
 
 Captain, said a policeman, touching his cap, Lanty 
 Hanlon, I fear, has escaped.^' 
 
 What ? fled I 
 
 '' Yes, sir. We have searched every where, and can’t 
 find him.” 
 
 Shouldn’t doubt it, sir, in the least,” replied the 
 captain. By the Lord Harry, sir, you should — every 
 man of you — be drummed out for a set of poltroons. 
 Ten constables, and couldn^t make a single arrest I I shall 
 see to it, sir. You have the Yankee still in custody, I 
 trust.” 
 
 No, sir ; he has escaped also.” 
 
 Escaped I ” 
 
 Yes, sir ; he jumped the wall, and fled in the con- 
 fusion of the moment.” 
 
 And could nobody catch him, sir ? ” 
 
 '^Not on foot, sir, for he ran like a greyhound, his long 
 hair floating back on the breeze. I pursued him myself 
 for nearly a mile, but found it was of no use, and gave it 
 up as a bad job. Once I thought I had him, as he 
 scrambled up a stone fence. I seized him by his coat 
 tail, but he left the tail behind him, and disappeared.” 
 
 So that’s all that remains of him,” said the captain, 
 looking at the piece of gray broadcloth in the policeman’s 
 hand. 
 
 '' That’s all, sir,” replied the constable, holding up the 
 skirt for inspection. 
 
 Well, it’s of no consequence ; let him go. He has 
 seen enough of Ireland, I suspect. Father Brennan, with- 
 out visiting our jails — eh ? don’t you think so ? ” 
 
 '' He’s not the only one,” said Dr, Henshaw, coming 
 up behind, has seen enough of Ireland. My own 
 expaireance of the country is vary short, but I think I’ve 
 33 
 
386 
 
 MARY LEE, OR 
 
 seen plenty to know it^s rather a hard place for strangers 
 who are fond of their comforts/^ 
 
 You must matriculate, doctor, said Father John, 
 good-humoredly. 
 
 Matriculate ! 
 
 '' Certainly. And after that you^ll feel quite at home.^^ 
 
 Humph ! ejaculated the doctor. ** My matricula- 
 tion then — as you call it — is ended, for I leave to- 
 morrow. 
 
 To-morrow ! repeated the captain ; nonsense ! 
 By the Lord Harry, my dear fellow, you^ll do no such 
 thing.^^ 
 
 To-morrow, sir, at daybreak ; you may rest assured 
 of it.^^ 
 
 What ! and Mary Lee to be married to-night, and 
 Uncle Jerry to dance at the wedding ! you musnft think 
 of it.^^ 
 
 '^IVe made up my mind, captain. 
 
 But Kate — you know Kate has an apology to make 
 about that quarrel youVe had. She^ll never forgive you 
 if you donft come with us to Castle Gregory. 
 
 No, sir; IVe been once at Castle Gregory, and that 
 I think is quite enough for me. I thank you, captain, 
 however, for your proffered hospeetality.^^ 
 
 But, my dear sir,^^ urged the captain, I should feel 
 very sorry to have you leave with bad impressions of the 
 country. 
 
 '' Humph ! said the doctor, in reply, I^m vary 
 much inclined to think, if I remained longer, they would 
 grow worse/^ 
 
 Worse ! 
 
 Ay, sir, worse. Here’s abduction, robbery, forgery, 
 riot, and murder, all in a single week. Good Heavens ! 
 Sir, there’s not such another country on the face of the 
 globe, and what makes its condition the more deplorable 
 is, that its religion is no longer able to redeem it.” 
 
 ** Its religion ! ” said the priest. 
 
 ''Yes, sir; there’s not even the ghost of your old 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 387 
 
 Katholeecity remaining. No, sir ; what^s left is but 
 syllabub and water gruel. 
 
 Fm sorry you think so.^^ 
 
 '' And so am I too, sir. But so it is — between your 
 deevil try and your Katholeecity, I have had enough of 
 Ireland. Good by, gentlemen, good by ! and the doc- 
 tor, having taken his leave of the party, thrust his thumbs 
 into the arm-holes of his waistcoat, and wended his way 
 slowly to the village inn. 
 
388 
 
 MARY LEE, OR 
 
 POSTSCRIPT. 
 
 Dear Reader : We have carried you through a long, 
 and, perhaps, in the main, a weary, tedious narration. 
 At length, however, it has come to a close, and such as it 
 is, you have it ; or, to borrow the words of Lord Byron, — 
 
 What is writ is writ ; 
 
 Would it were worthier ! but I am not now 
 
 What I have been — and my visions flit 
 
 Less palpably before me — and the glow 
 
 Which in my spirit dwelt is fluttering, faint, and low. 
 
 SECOND POSTSCRIPT. 
 
 The above is the story of Mary Lee, as it came into 
 our hands. 
 
 Mr. Pinkie, it seems, had not finished it when he left 
 Ireland, and was never afterwards able, on account of the 
 rheumatism, to finish it here. We suppose this must 
 have been the way of it. Whether he actually intended 
 to make the end of Childe Harold the end of Mary Lee 
 also, iPs of course now very difficult to tell — though, 
 indeed, for ourselves, we must confess we have a strong 
 inclination to think in the affirmative, especially as, being 
 brought up together, we remember well many personal 
 proofs of his short and snappy disposition. But be that 
 as it may, ^tis evident the tale wants another joint, and 
 so, being appointed his legatee, we have considered it no 
 more than our duty to make up for the deficiency the best 
 way we can. With that end in view, we wrote to a faithful 
 correspondent at Rosnakill for information respecting the 
 fate of some of the principal actors in the drama, and 
 the following is the result : — 
 
THE YANKEE IN IKELAND. 
 
 389 
 
 '' In reply to your favor of recent date, I have the 
 pleasure to acquaint you with the following facts. They 
 have been obtained after very considerable trouble and 
 inquiry, and therefore I shall expect you to put them to 
 my credit in the old account. 
 
 First, then, it seems the meeting between Mr. Guirkie 
 and Mary Lee was very affecting — so much so, indeed, 
 that the captain, stout-hearted as he is, after rubbing up 
 his grizzly hair two or three times in quick succession, 
 and plucking down his waistcoat as many more, was final- 
 ly obliged to turn his face to the window and whistle 
 against the glass. Uncle Jerry^s joy knew no bounds ; 
 he sat her on his knee, and smoothed down her hair, and 
 looked up in her face, and wept, and vowed she was the 
 very picture of her that was gone. Mrs. Motherly, poor 
 woman, is said to have entered the parlor just at that time 
 with her master^s leggings, to button them on, but see- 
 ing what she did see, turned short on her step, and draw- 
 ing the door after 'her with a bang, quit the house instant- 
 ly, and was never heard of since. For the last fact I 
 cannot vouch exactly, my own impression being that she 
 did return once more, and even had a pension granted her 
 by Mr. Guirkie for her faithful and matronly services. 
 
 As you are already aware, the captain entertained the 
 party that night at Castle Gregory, and, so far as I can 
 learn, a merry night they had of it. Mary Lee and Ean- 
 dall Barry were married, of course, by the good Father 
 Brennan ; and Uncle Jerry, curious enough, is reported 
 to have given away the bride. It is further asserted, 
 and on excellent authority too, that the same gentleman, 
 after slipping a check on the Bank of Londonderry for 
 two thousand pounds into Mary^s hand as a marriage 
 portion, instantly called on Kate to play the ' Sailor^s 
 Hornpipe,^ and danced with his hands on his sides till he 
 fell back on the sofa, and there actually went to sleep from 
 sheer exhaustion. 
 
 Ten days after the wedding, the captain^s yacht was 
 seen weighing anchor at Ballymastocker, and slowly mov- 
 ing up to the landing place under the castle. Presently 
 33 * 
 
890 
 
 MARY LEE, OR 
 
 a party of ladies and gentlemen issued from the vestibule 
 of the old mansion^ and crossing the lawn, descended the 
 bank of the rabbit warren, and stepped aboard. The 
 party consisted of the captain and Kate, Eandall and 
 Mrs. Barry, Mr. Lee, Mr. Guirkie, and Father Brennan. 
 After a few minutes^ absence, the latter came ashore, and 
 waving his hat in adieu, the little Water Hen moved off 
 gently from the wharf. She had not cleared it a cablets 
 length, however, when a brown water spaniel, followed 
 by a tall old gray-haired man, in a long-skirted coat, was 
 seen running down to the beach. The old man kept wav- 
 ing his hand as he hobbled along ; but the dog, who had 
 reached the shore before him, sprang into the water and 
 made for the little vessel, howling most piteously as he 
 buffeted the waves. The yacht hqve to for a moment, the 
 dog was lifted aboard, and then the old man, apparently 
 satisfied with what had taken place, fell on his knees, and 
 with uplifted hands, seemed to pray fervently for a 
 happy voyage. ^ 
 
 Next day the Water Hen returned, but none of the 
 party was seen to step ashore but Kate and the captain. 
 Where the others went to, no one here can tell. It is 
 generally surmised, however, that the United States was 
 their destination, and that Lanty Hanlon and his winsome 
 wife, Mary Kelly of the black hair, went out with them, 
 having been snugly ensconced under the Water Hen^s 
 hatches before she weighed anchor on the evening of her 
 departure from Castle Gregory. 
 
 Roger O’Shaughnessy, now too infirm to venture on 
 so long a voyage, remains at the castle at his old occupa- 
 tion. Once or twice a week he burnishes up the old sil- 
 ver salver as usual, and tells how often it has served wine 
 to the lords and ladies at Castle Talbot. 
 
 And Kate Petersham too — I mustn’t forget her. 
 She is now, I am happy to tell you, a fervent Catholic, de- 
 voted to her religion, and a model of piety to the whole 
 parish. But you must not conclude from all this, that 
 she has changed in other respects. Not at all. She 
 practises her religion faithfully at the altar and in the 
 
THE YANKEE IN IRELAND. 
 
 891 
 
 closet ; but beyond this, she is the same reckless, light- 
 hearted being she ever was, and ready at any moment to 
 cruise in the Water Hen, or ride a steeple chase on Moll 
 Pitcher, with the best blood in the county. She has been 
 trying hard to bring the captain over to the church too, 
 people say. But Pm afraid she^ll hardly succeed — at 
 least for the present. Indeed, the captain said as much 
 to myself, swearing at the same time he liked the religion 
 well enough, but by his Lord Harry, he never could get 
 over the confession. ^ I offered to compromise the mat- 
 ter/ he added, ‘ but Father John wouldn^t listen to it. 
 He insisted on the confession as a necessary condition, 
 and I insisted, on the other side, to have that clause left 
 out. So there rests the whole difficulty.^ 
 
 ''With respect to Ephraim C. B. Weeks, he made his 
 way to Kathmelton bareheaded, and with the remaining 
 skirt of his coat tucked under, to give it the appearance 
 of a jacket. Once more only was he seen, and then at 
 the Liverpool packet office in Derry. A friend of mine, 
 who happened to be present at the time, assures me he 
 did nothing but curse Ireland and all the darned Irish in 
 it, from the time he entered the office till he left it. 
 He swore you couldn^t find such ' a tarnation set of var- 
 mints in all almighty creation,^ and when he ' got toother 
 side the big pond, if he wornt a-goin to give them 
 "Jessie’^ in the newspapers.^ And so, lighting a cigar,^^ 
 added my Triend, "he took up his valise and umbrella, 
 and started furiously for the New York packet.^^ 
 
 THE END. 
 


/iVy 
 
 1