Lavengro: The Scholar, the Gypsy, the Priest

embling hand-Irish-Tough battle-Tipperary hills-E

s of a year, which offer little of interest as far as connected with me and mine. Suddenly, however, the sound of war was heard again, Napoleon had broken forth from Elba, and everything was in confusion. Vast military preparations were again made, our own corps was levied anew, and my brother became an officer in it; but the danger was soon over, Napoleon was once more quelled, and cha

tant practice on similar occasions, and waited the result with that apathy and indifference which violent sea-sickness is sure to produce. We shipped several seas, and once the vessel missing stays-which, to do it justice, it generally did at every third or fourth tack-we escaped almost by a miracle from being dashed upon the foreland. On the eighth day of our voyage we we

he waters, whose dark blue denoted their immense depth; tall green hills, which ascended gradually from the shore, formed the background to the west; they were carpeted to the top with turf of the most vivid green, and studded here and there with woods, seemingly of oak;

ttle neatness; the streets were full of impurities; handsome equipages rolled along, but the greater part of the population were in rags; beggars abounded; there was no lack of merriment, however; boisterou

unded the horizon. We passed through several villages, as I suppose I may term them, of low huts, the walls formed of rough stones without mortar, the roof of flags laid over wattles and wicker-work; they seemed to be inhabi

ering into her hut, presently reappeared with a small pipkin of milk, which she offered to me with a trembling hand. I drank the milk; it was sour, but I found it highly refreshing. I th

ith sleeves, which last, however, dangled unoccupied: these cloaks appeared in tolerably good condition, not so their under garments. On their heads were broad slouching hats: the generality of them were bare-footed. As they passed, the soldiers jest

ng officer to my father, 'I don't und

ouple of deserters-Irish-who had taken refuge amongst their companions; we found them in what was in my time called a ken, that is a house where only thieves and desperadoes are to be found. Knowing on what kind of business I was bound, I had taken with me a sergeant's party; it was well I did so. We found the deserters in a large room, with at least thirty ruffians, horrid-looking fellows, seated about a

the deserters?'

reet; the whole district had become alarmed, and hundreds came pouring down upon us-men, women, and children. Women, did I say!-they looked fiends, half naked, with their hair hanging down over their bosoms;

aid I; 'I wonder if

It is not like Scotch, no person can learn it, save those who are born to it, and even in Ire

al one of these regions. It was on the bank of a beautiful river, which separated it from the mountains. It was rather an ancient place, and might contain some ten thousand inhabitants-I found that it w

d to my wife, Mistress Hyne, who is from Londonderry, "God bless me," said I, "what a truly Protestant countenance, what a noble bearing, and what a sweet young gentleman. By the silver hairs of his honour"-and sure enough I never saw hairs more regally silver than those of your honour-"by his honour's gray silver hairs, and by my own soul, which is not worthy to be mentioned in the same day with one of them-it would be no more than decent and civil to run out and welcome such a father and son coming in at the head of such a Protestant military." And then my wife, who is from Londonderry, Mistress Hyne, looking me in the face like a fairy as she is, "You may say that," says she. "It would be but decent and civil, honey." And your honour knows how I ran out of my own door and welcomed your honour riding in company with your son, who was

oom with three windows, looking upon the high street of the good town of Clonmel, as he sat a

s, few in number, into a barbarous and unhappy country, where ever since, though surrounded with difficulties of every kind, they have maintained their ground; theirs has been no easy life, nor have their lines fallen upon very pleasant places; amidst darkness they have held up a lamp, and it would be well for Ireland were all her children like these her adopted one

ues, numerous ones; and their virtues are their own, their industry, their energy, and their undaunted resolution are their own. They have been vilified and traduc