Get Up, till my fingers ached, as I stumped before him and his mobs and processions, he never gave me the sovereign: unlike your hanner who gave me the shilling ye promised me for playing Croppies Lie Down, Daniel O'Connell never gave me the sovereign he promised me for playing Croppies Get Up. Och, your hanner, I often wished the ould Orange days were back again. However as I could do no better I continued going the whole hog with the emancipators and repalers and Dan O'Connell ; I went the whole animal with them till they had got emancipation; and I went the whole animal with them till they had nearly got repale —when all of a sudden they let the whole thing drop-Dan and his party having frighted the Government out of its seven senses, and gotten all they thought they could get, in money and places, which was all they wanted, let the whole hullabaloo drop, and of course myself, who formed part of it. I went to those who had persuaded me to give up my Orange tunes, and to play Papist ones, begging them to give me work; but they tould me very civilly that they

had no farther occasion for my services. I went to Daniel O'Connell reminding him of the sovereign he had promised me, and offering if he gave it me to play Croppies Get Up under the nose of the lord-lieutenant himself; but he tould me that he had not time to attend to me, and when I persisted, bade me go to the Divil and shake myself. Well, your hanner, seeing no prospect for myself in my own country, and having incurred some little debts, for which I feared to be arrested, I came over to England and Wales, where with little content and satisfaction I have passed seven years.

"Well," said I; "thank you for your history -farewell."

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Stap, your hanner; does your hanner think that the Orange will ever be out of the kennel, and that the Orange boys will ever walk round the brass man and horse in College Green as they did of ould?"

"Who knows?" said I. "But suppose all that were to happen, what would it signify to you?"

"Why then Divil be in my patten if I would

not go back to Donnybrook and Dublin, hoist the Orange cockade, and become as good an Orange boy as ever."

"What," said I, " and give up Popery for the second time?"

"I would, your hanner; and why not? for in spite of what I have heard Father Toban say, I am by no means certain that all Protestants will be damned.”

"Farewell," said I.

"Farewell, your hanner, and long life and prosperity to you! God bless your hanner and your Orange face. Ah, the Orange boys are the boys for keeping faith. They never served me as Dan O'Connell and his dirty gang of repalers and emancipators did. Farewell, your hanner, once more; and here's another scratch of the illigant tune your hanner is so fond of, to cheer up your hanner's ears upon your way."

And long after I had left him I could hear him playing on his fiddle in first-rate style the beautiful tune of "Down, down, Croppies Lie Down."

CHAPTER XXVI.

CEINIOG MAWR. PENTRE VOELAS.-THE OLD CONWAY.-STUPENDOUS PASS.-THE GWEDIR FAMILY.-CAPEL CURIG.THE TWO

CHILDREN.-BREAD.-WONDERFUL ECHO.-TREMENDOUS WALKER.

I WALKED on briskly over a flat uninteresting country, and in about an hour's time came in front of a large stone house. It stood near the road, on the left-hand side, with a pond and pleasant trees before it, and a number of cornstacks behind. It had something the appearance of an inn, but displayed no sign. As I was standing looking at it, a man with the look of a labourer, and with a dog by his side, came out of the house and advanced towards me.

"What is the name of this place?" said I to him in English as he drew nigh.

Sir," said the man, "the name of the house is Ceiniog Mawr."

"Is it an inn?" said I.

"Not now,

sir ;

but some years ago

it was

an inn, and a very large one at which coaches used to stop; at present it is occupied by an amaethwr-that is a farmer, sir."

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Ceiniog Mawr means a great penny," said I," why is it called by that name?"

"I have heard, sir, that before it was an inn it was a very considerable place, namely a royal mint at which pennies were made, and on that account it was called Ceiniog Mawr."

Per

I was subsequently told that the name of this place was Cernioge Mawr. If such be the real name the legend about the mint falls to the ground, Cernioge having nothing to do with pence. Cern in Welsh means a jaw. haps the true name of the house is Corniawg, which interpreted is a place with plenty of turrets or chimneys. A mile or two further the ground began to rise, and I came to a small village at the entrance of which was a waterwheel-near the village was a gentleman's seat almost surrounded by groves. After I had passed through the village, seeing a woman seated by the