PATRICK MULLALY was a fine old man, who had for some political reason or another, emigrated from the county Tipperary in the days of his youth, and in the evening of his age was to be found working as a hedger in the neighbourhood of Leixlip. Patrick was a very clever hand at a story, and whenever "a wake" was going, he was not only sure of being invited, but also certain of getting the hottest and strongest glass of punch that was handed round to the mourners. It was at the early hour of two in the morning, upon one of these melancholy and merry occasions, when the girls were tired of" forfeits," and the boys of redeeming them with kisses, that "ould Pat" was called upon for a story, and a noggin of whiskey, made into the sweetest punch, was promised him, if he would tell the company something, which not one amongst them had ever heard before.

This was a request which puzzled Paddy for some time; but after taking off his old flax wig, rubbing his polished pate two or three times with a blazing scarlet cotton handkerchief, he called for a sup by way of "earnest," and then commenced his story in the following manner:

"Boys and girls, I wish your very good healths, entirely, entirely,-I wish you good health all round, from wall to wall, and an inch in the wall besides, for fear I'd lave any of you out. I will now tell you a story, which I never told you before, and the rason I did'nt mention it to you is, that it never occurred to myself, and I therefore could n't answer for the truth of it; but it happened to an old granduncle of mine, one Denis Mullaly, who I heard tell it at a bonfire in Thurles, that was had one night, by rason of some decent body being married, a parson put out of the way, a magistrate houghed, a proctor shot, or some other rasonable cause of rejoicing. My grand-uncle was a little paralytic in the right hand, you see, and he was not what you would call right in his head; but for all that, he'd know a bad shilling from a silver tester, as well as the best of us. Somebody or another at the bonfire, asked the ould man how he lost the use of his right hand, and this is what he tould us:"I was,' says he, as foolish in my day as the best of you, and amongst my other fooleries, I fell in love with one Judy M'Dermott, who lived within four fields of my cabin. Judy was a dacent, comely, hand

some, mighty well-looking girl, but as poor as a church mouse, and, to make the matter worse, I was a great deal poorer. I was up to my head and ears in love wid her; and I'd have given all the world to be able to marry her.

"At that present time, when I was in love, I was sitting one day on the Fairy Fort, outside of the town, and thinking to myself, Oh! then, if one of the good people that goes hopping about this fort, when the moon shines, were to see my dissolute condition, and that one animal amongst them had in his bit of a body a heart as big itself as a blackberry, I think he would be after lending me, for two or three hours, one of them purses that is as full of yellow gold as a beehive is of sweet honey. I thought this, and not a word in the world had I said, when I heard a hammer rapping at the sole of my shoe, as loud and as hard as Lady Caher's coachman knocks at the doctor's door. What in the world is this,' says I, that would be throubling my foot?' It's I,' says a voice as large as a giant's, coming from under my shoe, and if you don't be after taking your nasty spawdogue of a foot off the ant-hole I am trying to get out of, may be, it would be worse for you.' I beg your honour's pardon,' answered I, removing my foot to another part of the field, and taking my hat off my head at the same time.

"What do you think, I should see, coming out of a hole in the grass, that you could hardly run your finger into, but a little, weeny, deeny, dawney, bit of a creature of an atomy, of an idea, of a small taste of a gentleman, about the thickness and length of a middle sized radish, and having a threecocked hat, a red coat, and gold epaulets on him, like an officer; red breeches, and a pair of red boots like a jackdaw! I had my spade sticking fast upright in the ground before me, and the moment the little chap got out of the hole, he climbed up the spade, as nimble as a sailor, and when he got to the handle, he sat down straddle legs on it, as if it were a horse, and taking a little pipe out of his little pocket, he put it to his button hole of a mouth, and began smoking away; and you would think that every blast that came from him was a big hay-rick on fire. After taking two or three whiffs, and nearly blinding me with the smoke, he said, as he fixed his fiery little eyes on me, ' Good morrow, and better luck to

you Dennis Mullaly.' Good morrow, and God save you kindly,' I answered. If you be after saying such a word to me again, you illlooking thief,' he roared out, and jumping up on the spade-handle in a rage, if you say that word again to me, I'll knock you into nonsense, shiver you into shavings, and smash you into smithereens.'-'Why then, I wont', says I, if it pleases your reverence.' "The creature of an atomy sat down again on the spade handle, from which his taste of legs were hanging down like two little threads; and, after taking two or three whiff's more, he again fixed on me his two little eyes, which were sparkling like the spot of burning tobacco in his pipe. • You were wishing for something, Dennis,' said he. 'It's I that was, your reverence, and if it's not displeasing to you, I was wishing for the loan of a fairy's purse for a few hours,' I answered. Bad luck to your impudence!' he replied, will nothing less than a fairy's purse answer such a spalpeen? And supposing now Dennis I was to lend it, what would you give me in return for it?" Then to tell your honour the truth,' I said, 'I would give you my hand and word, I would return it to you.'-'I don't care a thrawneen' says he, for your dirty word; but will you give me your hand?'-'I will, Sir,' I exclaimed, I will give you my hand, that I will return the purse to you.'-'Why then may be,' said the 'cute little villain, you'd never be able to return it to me; but will you give me your hand on it?'

"I never saw what the viper was driving at, and without at all thinking of what I was doing, I bawled out, By this and by that if you lend me the purse for three hours, I do give you my hand.'

"The bit of a thief's eyes glimmered and glistened like two stars in a frosty night he jumped up-put his pipe in his pocket, and clapped his hands to his ribs, which were no bigger than the ribs of a small gudgeon, gave a ho! ho! ho!' of a laugh, so loud, and so long, that I thought he would split up like a straw, that you touch with your nail. His laughing continued so long, that he at last fell off the handle of the spade. I was sure his neck was cracked, and was going to pick up his trifle of a carcase, when I saw him float to the ground, as soft, as easy, as quiet, and as gentle as a thistle down, which now soars, and then sinks to the earth with the seed it has to plant there!

"You have given me your hand,' says he, and here is the purse for you; it's little, I

think, you'll have to brag about it.'

"Where is the purse, Sir,' said I. "Here,' he answered, 'here, you omɑ thaun, pull the red boot off my right leg, that's the purse for you.'

"By dad, your reverence,' I replied,' I've often heard of making a purse of a sow's ears; but never before was I told of a purse manufactured out of a leprechaun's leg.'

"None of your impudence, you born natural,' he cried out in a fury, none of your impudence; but pull away at my leg, as if the dickens was standing in you.'

"I got one hold of the little chap's leg, and, may be, I did n't make him screech murder.-I pulled, and pulled, until I lifted him clean off the ground, and, at last, I raised him so high, that I shook him out of his boot, as clean as you would shake shot out of a bottle.-I looked to see if he was hurt; but the instant the very end of his toe was out of the boot, you might as well expect to see a grass-hopper in snow, as to see the little gentleman in the field. There I had the purse however, and a mighty small one it was; so to see if there was any good in it, I put down my finger into it, and I found in the bottom a neat, beautiful, sparkling, glistening gold half-guinea. I took that out, and put it into my waistcoat pocket. That's good,' says I to myself. I put down my finger again, and I forked up another half guinea, and I put that also into my waistcoat. I put down my hand again, and there was a third; and I never stopped putting my hand into the purse, and taking out gold half guineas, until my waistcoat pocket was as full of gold as a fresh female herring is full of pea. Oh! Judy, Judy,' says I, in three hours we'll be as rich as the Archbishop of Cashel, and to be sure we won't have lashings and leavings at our wedding. I'll just go this minute into Tim Cassidy's, and buy my wedding suit.'

"That very instant, I left my work, and hurried into the town of Thurles, to Tim Cassidy's shop. Tim was behind the counter, and I ordered him to fit me out with ten suits of clothes, and send home to Judy's, the making of twenty cloaks, besides gowns, petticoats, stockings, and shoes galore. Ah! then, where is the money to come from?' says Tim, who was a hard, dry, crooked-nosed old codger, that would skin a flint, if it were possible.

"Where,' said I, sure here it is, and more when I want it'— and upon that I pulled out a fist full of half-guineas, and spread them out on the counter before him, thinking he would be wanting me to take all

that was in his shop; but instead of that, he looked as sharp as a needle at the gold, and then asked me if I was gone crazy. Not a bit,' answered I, nor conceited either, with my riches; and I can tell you, that where I got that gold, there is plenty more of it to be found." I don't doubt it,' he drawled out and grinning from ear to ear like a monkey, ' but mind me, Dennis Mullaly, you'll get none of my goods for such golden halfguineas as them.'-'Oh! Master Tim,' said I, picking up the gold, and putting it back into my waistcoat pocket, if you don't like to make your fortune, I can't help you; but if you were very civil now, and I did not expect it, to tell you the truth, I intended to give you twenty guineas to hurry with the clothes, for now that I am so rich, I am going to be married.'

"Ho! ho! ho!' roared out Tim; and I thought his voice was the very echo of the small fellow that gave me his boot for a purse. I hurried off to the next shop, and the man was going to kick me out, when I showed him my golden half-guineas. A third told me, if I ever went into his place to humbug him again, he would set the dogs after me-a fourth said I was mad-a fifth swore I was a robber, watching to see what I could steal, and, in short, there was no one in the entire town, who would have any dealings with me at all, at all. I lost, I'm sure, a good hour and a half, trying to get the Thurles' shopkeepers to traffic with me; but not one of them would have any thing to say

to me. Faith,' thought I, if they won't take my gold from me, I'm no richer than I was before I got the fairy's purse-so I'll go back, get all the half-guineas I can out of the chap's little boot, tie them up in a sack, and carry it off to Clonmel, or some other dacent place where the people are used to the gold coin, and get all I want for it.' I ran back to the field, and began pulling out half-guinea after half-guinea until my arm got tired; and, at last, I had a heap of gold beside me, that was as neat, and as smiling looking, as a small cock of fresh hay. While I was gazing at it with as much pride and delight as a gossoon stares on his new frieze coat, I felt a desperate pain in my arm, and that instant the purse was snapped out of my hand by the diminutive red spalpeen that had given it to me three hours before; and the imp said, ' You gave me your hand, and you got my purse; Dennis Mullaly, we are now even, and take my word for it, you are the biggest fool from this to yourself. With that he gave me a kick in the thumb of my right hand, the very pain of which knocked me into a trance. When I wakened, I found beside me, where I had left the half-guineas, a heap of jackstones, the tops of daisies, and a parcel of dock-weeds! I tried with my right hand to raise the heap of stones; but I found the arm lie as useless by my side as if it did not belong To add to my misfortune, Judy was married a month afterwards. I never could handle a spade since. Boys, jewel, I was fairy-struck!

to me.

Ir was the evening before the grand battue at Montague Hall. The owner, a rich returned Indian, and a determined foe to poachers, had treated his friends with a splendid feast upon the occasion. It was, moreover, his son's birth-day; and whilst the neighbouring villagers had been handsomely regaled at the nabob's expense, his gamekeepers, in spite of repeated warnings that Black Sam, the great captain, was abroad, had revelled deeply at Bonus's, the landlord of the green. And true enough was the caution. Sam, whom the keepers had declared, in council assembled, to be at least fifty miles off, fattening on the preserves of a distant squire, had spent the day hard by the nabob's village. He might have been seen harmless, and almost unnoticed, with his mug of ale, at a house where a vast elm stretched forth its boughs; and he calmly walked through the peopled highway, regarding the old cage with contumely, and nodding to those who dared to own his beckon. "Twill be a friendly moon to-night," said Tell, (for that was the poacher's name), as he passed on with an air of triumph to rejoin his gang.

And now the party at the hall had just adjourned to the drawing-room, where Lucy Montague, the only daughter of the Indian, presided. It was ten o'clock, and as bright as the day. It was the very moment for a carnage of pheasants, and, strange to say, Charles, the nabob's son, whispered his sister, that he fancied he heard a gun. But the formidable hint was instantly hushed. A look from Lucy silenced her brother, who felt, besides, that the keepers were surely at their post. "But where is General Parker to-night?" said one of the guests to Mr. Montague. "To tell you the truth, Rivers," replied the Indian, "I know no more than you do." "The general must have been very suddenly stopped," said the other, "for I never knew him miss an entertainment like to-morrow's. But what do I see-here positively is the general." "General," said the Nabob, "I am overjoyed to see you; what can have happened? We were just laying some terrible misfortune to your lot." General Parker whispered to his host. "Indeed!" exclaimed Mr. Montague, "I consider that a sufficient excuse certainly, General." "But, Montague," returned General Parker," surely it isn't customary to be popping all night

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before the sport, is it ?" " Popping-no-certainly not," exclaimed the Nabob, rather disposed to be offended, than otherwise. "Well, you may take it as easily as you please, for I never heard such a firing in my life, as when I got to Currey Green End; I think that is the name of the place." "Yes, close to Ashen Grove," returned Montague, hastily;" you didn't hear any firing there, General ?" It would be very difficult to liken the paleness which overspread the countenance of Mr. Montague, to any appearance less than the hue of death itself. It was evident enough that it was no joke, nor mistake, nor had the scene of action been mistaken.

There was no long suspense. The General's tale was fully understood, and a considerable movement was observed throughout the room. Charles Montague darted forward in a moment, and the old gentleman was hurried along irresistibly by the intensity of his own feelings. The party at the hall armed themselves with guns, and whatever weapons they could find at command, and hastened towards the spot, of which the general had spoken, and where a considerable firing was now distinctly heard.

The noise of the guns, however, suddenly ceased, and Charles Montague, who led the way, proposed that they should divide into two parties. Upon this a council of war was held, and (which is not very usual upon such occasions) a speedy decision was made. It was determined that the whole party should move upon Wolf's Dell, and, as if it were to sanction their plan, a solitary gun was heard in that direction. A very slight interval of suspense was permitted them, for they had not gone many paces before they again heard firing in the wood very near them, and it was accompanied by vociferous shouting. "There they are," cried Charles Montague, overjoyed. "But not firing at pheasants, Mr. Charles," observed Rivers, who was in the foremost rank. "The guns go off too regularly for that." It was indeed a regular volley which just then saluted the ears of the advancing troop, and as they dashed through the thickets and brushwood, each heart beat with the hope of speedy victory. They were now surrounded by a tall grove, which bordered upon the Ashen Farm, and lay hard by the famous Wolf's Dell. Surmounting this, they came into a wide-spreading glade illuminated by

the moonbeams, but nothing could be seen. Again they pushed forward, and were lost in the mantling shades. Charles Montague at length tripped against something, and fell. It was a heavy substance, and though he was naturally brave, a chill went to his heart at the instant. He called for assistance, and some of the party having come up, a body was discovered lying across the footpath. "There's no life in him," cried Rivers, with a gravity to which he had been a stranger ever since his being second in a fatal duel ten years before. It was a true conjecture, and equally certain that the slain man was no gamekeeper. Charles Montague was examining his dress, and a fresh council was about to be held, when a loud splashing was heard amongst the leaves, and a person hastily rushed forward. No sooner, however, did he perceive the group, which had by this time gathered round the dead poacher (for he was no other), than he as rapidly retreated, pursued by the young heir, Rivers, and two others. They had now reached another grassy glade, when a new scene happened. Wildgoose, the head gamekeeper, and five others, were flying simultaneously from the opposite side, whilst one of their party, braver than the rest, was seen in vain endeavouring to rally them. But neither the by-gone cheer which they had been enjoying, nor the instant chance of encountering the enemy, could rouse the shattered spirits of the fugitives. Hurried away from their chirruping cups, the keepers took the field only to be scared by the first volley of their antagonists; and the terrified Wildgoose no sooner beheld Charles Montague and his friends, than he again prepared to run in the opposite direction. Retreat, however, was impossible. Twenty or thirty men, all armed, appeared on the other side, and marched forwards with unblenching strides. "Halt," said Charles Montague, rebuking his runaway servants, at the same time, for their cowardice. "Halt! who says halt?" returned a rough voice. Stand, and lay down your arms, in the King's name," said Montague again; for it was evident enough that he had now fallen in with the whole gang. "Pshaw," said the same person, striking down a musket which one of his party had raised to the shoulder: "young man, who are you?" "I am the son of Mr. Montague, and I insist upon your surrendering," said the youth, without faltering. "Down with him then," said several voices behind the captain of the gang, who was the spokesman. The keepers had by this time rallied behind their master, with

VOL. IT-NO, III.

Wildgoose in the rear. "If we wanted blood for blood, young man," said Black Sam, "we might ask for it now, for one of your cowardly fellows yonder has shot poor Saunders; but look ye, I don't thirst for life, so take heed, and leave us the field.”

There was a pause. There were, at most, ten persons with Montague to oppose more than twenty, but the heir stood undaunted in the midst of the woody dale. "Will you stand by me, my friends ?” said he, looking around him. "One and all," cried Rivers. Black Sam stood with folded arms in a very advanced position, with his party close at hand. "Samuel Tell," said Montague again, "and you, his people, if any such there be among you, my father has shewn himself very kindly disposed to you, and even now, if you will lay down your arms, he will forget and forgive." "Young man, beware,” cried Black Sam; "that is dangerous talk.” Had he been a little nearer, Montague might have seen the fall of the poacher's countenance.

Sam.

It was an omen of mischief in Black

"There are three warnings, young Montague," said Tell; "mind this is the second; I told you to quit the field before; beware the third." He struck his gun sharply as he spoke, but no signal seemed to daunt the aristocratic leader. "It would be a pity to hurt so fine a youth," exclaimed Tell, coming a few paces forward; "give in, Mr. Charles, before it is too late." Charles Montague thought that the voice was familiar to him. "Mr. Charles," exclaimed Rivers, "let me recommend you to go back a little."

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