again came to her cheek, and the life into her heart. All this time the well was uncovered, and the waters rose rose-rose, until they surrounded the castle. Higher and higher did they rise, until at length down fell the gates, the stream rushed in, and drowned every living thing in the place, and made this very lake we are now sitting by.' And what became of the lady and the pilgrim?'

'Now that is the beautiful moral of the story. They escaped-for the oaken chair supported them, and floated them until they came to land. All the rest perished, because they wilfully consented to live with the giant; but this one lady was kept there against her will.

What happened to them, after all?'

They lived together long and happily. It was the giant's pride to put all his best jewels on whoever kept watch over the well, that all persons might pay respect to his wealth; and as this lady had them all on her when the castle was swallowed up, she and her husband had money enough to last them all the days of their life.'

Really, you have given, if not a very probable, still a very pleasing account of this lake. But what causes this meadow to be so bare, while the others round it have such fine crops?'

Fair and softly, Sir. Do you see that gray rock on the left there, with the three pines on its height?'

'Yes.'

'Listen then, to a story about it — unless, indeed, my conversation tire you.'

After assuring Mr. Cronin, who was evidently fishing for a compliment, that his story would have quite a contrary effect, he resumed : 'Look first,' said he, at the place, or you won't be able to comprehend the story at once.'

The rock rose with a gentle swell in the distance. Its front had a precipitous appearance, and was covered with tangled underwood, like network. At its base, was a sort of rugged entrance, over which the honeysuckle and wild briar had formed a natural arch. Except this, truth compels me to say the rock was very common-place. You might meet with a hundred such any day in the year, and pass them by with

out notice.

We call that rock,' said he, by a strange name, from a strange circumstance. Upon the top, some hundreds of years ago, there stood a castle belonging to the old kings of Muskerry. Some cousin of theirs and his family lived in it, and were happy as the day is long. I never could find out how it happened, but certainly it did happen, that one night, castle, and people, and all suddenly disappeared. I misdoubt that there were bad spirits at work. However, it is said that the rock opened and swallowed all up, and that the lord and his lady are kept there, spell bound, as it were, in the shape of cats. From this, the rock is called Corrig-na-cat, or the cat-rock. T is a mighty pretty derivation.

Surely, whether the castle were swallowed up or no, strange sights may be seen, by the light of the harvest moon, about that place. There is a little green spot on the brow of the rock, where there is a fairy circle; and it is as sure as the daylight that there has been heard sweet music from that spot by night, and the good people (the fairies) have been seen dancing on the green turf, dressed in green and gold, and having

beautiful crowns on their heads, and white wands in their hands. Faith, Sir, you may smile, but more unlikely things have been.

⚫ Well, Sir, my grandfather, although a little given to the drink, was as honest a man as ever broke bread, or emptied a glass. It was on a summer evening, while he lay in bed, between asleep and awake, that he heard a strange, deep voice speak to him. It said: The words of fate! - heed them! Go at midnight to Corrig-na-cat; take with you a box of candles, and a hundred fathoms of line. Fasten the line to the mouth of the cave, and advance boldly with a pair of candles lighted. The line, is that you may roll it up as you come back, and not lose your way. Keep to the right hand, and you'll find a large room, and two cats in it. There is as much gold in the room inside that, as would buy a kingdom; you may take a bag to carry away as much of it as you desire. But on your peril, do not touch any thing else; your life will not be worth a straw, if you do!

You may be sure, Sir, that this piece of information astonished my grandfather. But he was a sensible man, and just nudged my grandmother, to know if she were awake. She slept, sound as a top; so he let her sleep on. He was far too knowing to let her into the secret. He thought over all that he had ever heard of Corrig-na-cat; he called to mind how his mother had always said that our family were the real descendants of the lord and lady that were swallowed up in the rock, and he fancied that this was some great oracle that had come down to him, in order that he might break the spell that bound them in the rock, and bring back the good old times once more. God knows, he thought less of the gold he was to take for his own use, than the chance of restoring them to their own natural human forms, and giving them back their fine estates.

They say that a warning is worth nothing, if it is not repeated. The next night my grandfather heard the same words: he then knew that it was no feint, and the night after he went on his mission.

'It was pitch dark, and he took his line, and his candles, and a sack to bring home the gold, and a flask of stuff that had never been touched by the gauger's rod. When he came to the rock, his heart almost failed him; the night was so still that he could hear the beating of his heart-thump, thump, thump-against his breast. The bat flew about, and the owl looked on him with her great white, flaring eyes; but he did not mind. Swallowing all the contents of the flask at once, he felt his spirits wonderfully restored, and in he pushed, to the mouth of the cave. He fastened his line to one of the bushes at hand, said an are or two, drained the flask, and dashed forward.

'The way was as straight as an arrow for about thirty yards, but after that, it took as many turnings and twistings as a problem of Euclid in the sixth book, and branched out into many directions. My grandfather followed on to the right, as he had been told, and soon found himself at the gateway of an old hall. He pushed open the door, and saw that there were doors upon doors, leading off to many a place. He still kept to the right, and in a few minutes found himself in a state chamber; pillars of white marble supported the roof, and at the farthest end, the hall opened into an apartment, through which there beamed a soft and beautiful light, like as if it came from a thousand shaded lamps.

'Here was the end of his journey. A beautiful carved mantel-piece of white marble stood over the fire-place, and on crimson velvet cushions there lay two beautiful white cats before the fire. Diamonds and rubies, emeralds and amethysts, lay on the ground before him in thousands, and the ceiling and walls were stuck with them in heaps. There was no living thing in the room, except my grandfather and the cats. The creatures had golden collars, embossed with diamonds, round their necks, and to these were fastened long gold chains, which just gave them liberty to move round the room, being fastened to the walls at each side by golden staples. As he looked at them, they glanced fully upon his face, and he thought they watched his very looks.

'He passed on to the inner room. The gold lay on the floor like wheat in a miller's store; he filled his sack to the brim with the coin, until, although he was the strongest man in the barony, he was scarcely able to lift it. As he passed through the room where the cats were, he paused for one moment to take a parting glance at the treasures that lay around him. There was one golden bit, studded with diamonds, and blazing like a lamp, that hung from the ceiling. It was too tempting. He forgot the advice not to touch any thing but the gold in the inner room, reached out his hand to seize the sparkling prize, when one of the cats, who was watching his motions, sprang forward, quick as a stroke of lightning, and struck out his right eye with a dash of its paw. At the same moment, some invisible hand bore off the bag of gold from his shoulders, as if it were only a bag of feathers. Out went the lights, my grandfather was obliged to grope his way out as well as he could, cursing his greediness, that would not be content with what he had got. He found his way home the next morning with only one eye.'

' AND do you believe all this?'

'If I don't,' said the philomath, half the country does. To be sure as my grandfather was fond of a drop of drink, he might have dreamed all this but then there was his right eye wanting. Indeed, there are some who say, that he fell over the cliff in a drunken fit, and that his eye was scratched out in that way. But, as it would not beseem me to make a liar of my grandfather, I stick for his own account. If the story is not true, it deserves to be.'

In this strange conclusion I quite coincided, and the philomath, proud of this display of his legendary lore, proceeded to acquaint me with the accredited legend of the meadow next the lake. I shall continue my endeavor to adhere to the very words of the narrator.

'SOME thousand years ago but of course after this lake was formed, and the old fairy's prophecy fulfilled, that the giant would come to his death by water- - there was a man owned all the fields in the Rock Close. He was a farmer, a plain, honest man. Not long after the place came to be his, he wondered very much why, although there was the same cultivation given to this field as the rest, it never gave any crops. He spoke to his herdsman, a mighty knowing man, who said that it would be worth while to watch the place, for that although

he often saw the blades of grass a foot high at night, all was as closely shaven as a bowling-green in the morning. His master, one of the old stock of the MacCarthy's, thought there was reason in what he said, so he desired him to watch.

'The herdsman did his bidding. The next morning he told Mac Carthy that he had hid himself behind an old gatewayyou may see it there to the left and at midnight the waters of the lake were mightily disturbed; that he saw six cows come out of the lake, and commence eating up all the grass, until, by daybreak, there was not a yard of the field that they had not made as smooth as the palm of my hand; that as the day began to dawn, the cows, having finished their meal, returned to the lake, and walked down to the bottom, as quietly as if they were on dry land.

To be sure, this was strange news for MacCarthy. He was completely at his wits' end. The herdsman offered to watch again that night, and go down to the lake, and make a regular complaint of the trespass. He was a little man, but had the heart of a lion. And on that same night he went again, and placed himself, this time, behind that great stone that lies to your right. The cows came up, as before, and cleared the field; they could not go into any other, because there were high, quickset hedges, which may be they did not like to take a flying leap over.

Just as the last cow was passing by, on her return to the lake, the herdsman made a dart at her tail, and took a fast hold of it. The cow walked on as if nothing had happened, and the herdsman, still holding the tail, followed.

'Down dashed the beast into the waters, but the herdsman still kept his grasp. Down they went, deep, deep into the bottom of the lake. Sure enough, there was the giant's castle. A little boy was in the court-yard playing with a golden ball. All round the yard were piles of armor spears and helmets, swords and shields-all made of pure gold. In dashed the cows, and with them went the herdsman.

Out came a lady, dressed up with jewels and gold, and her eyes as bright as the sun-beams on a May morning, or the diamonds that glinted on her breast. In her hand was a golden milk-pail. Great was the cry she gave when she saw the herdsman. I should have said that as they were going down, the cow whispered him and said, ' For the life of you, don't let go my tail, whatever you see.' Out rushed a whole regiment of soldiers, with their cheeks red as fire, and their looks as fierce, as if they were in the heat of battle. Oh that villain !' said the lady, pointing to the poor herdsman. Come here!' shouted the dragoons. But the herdsman knew better. 'Send your master to me,’ said he, impudent enough.

'Well, they wondered, as well they might, at the fellow's impudence; but they called out the master. He came, with a crown of gold on his head, and purple velvet robes, and a pair of bright copper shoes. I demand justice,' said the herdsman, for the trespass that your cows have committed on the land of the MacCarthy's; and I seize this cow, until the damage be paid.'

There was no use in talking: the cow was seized, and they tried to tempt the herdsman to surrender her. But he knew better. At last, the master of them said, 'Take that ball of gold that the child has, and leave us the cow.'

'Hand it over to me,' said the herdsman. Come for it,' said they. But the herdsman was too cunning for them all. 'I've a touch of the rheumatism in my knee,' said he, and can't walk.' With that they handed him the ball, and as soon as he saw that it was gold, he put it into his waiscoat pocket, and said it was not half enough.

'So, they were getting out a grey-hound - one of the blood-hounds that the Spaniards took to hunt down the Indians in America — and when he saw this, he whispered the cow: ' My little cow,' said he, go home.' The cow took his advice, and stole backwards through half the lake before they missed her. If you take me above ground,' said she, you must never swear in my presence; for the spell is on me, and I shall be obliged to return to the lake.'

'Well, to make a long story short, they let the hound slip, and it cut through the waters like a dolphin, and just as the cow came to land, the dog caught hold of the herdsman's coat, and tore off the skirt.

The herdsman told his master, and gave him the golden ball, which Mr. Jeffereys has to this day. The hound runs round the lake at day. break, every first of September, and is to run, year after year, until his silver shoes are worn out. The field was not touched by the cows again, for their master, below, thought it was not quite so pleasant to run the chance of having them taken up for trespass. Never was there a field in Munster that gave such crops; sow it or not, there was always a barn-full of grain from it.

The cow, of course, had young ones: it is her breed that we now call Kerry cows, those cattle that fetch such prices, small in size, but good in substance; and MacCarthy might have made a fortune by her, she gave such a power of milk, but that one day, as one of his horses was leaping over a high hedge into the field where the cow was, Mac Carthy burst out with a rattling oath, and she made one spring into the lake, and was never heard of more. From that time out, the cows again came to the field, and I suppose will continue to come, until somebody has the heart to go down and claim for trespass once more.

'I forgot, that Mr. Jeffereys tried to drain the lake some time ago, but it filled faster than the men could empty it. They might as well think to drain the Atlantic with a slop-pail.'

'Very well, indeed, Mr. Cronin. Now answer me one question: believe those stories?'

Do you

Faith, and that question is a poser. Then I do not believe them entirely; but when I meet with curious gentlemen, I am proud to tell them, because they usually invite me to spend the evening with them at the Red Cow, on the brow of the hill above there.'

Tom proved an entertaining companion, and appeared to have a ten Kerry-man power of drinking whiskey-punch, over which he became quite eloquent, chiefly in praise of his own endowments. I parted from him at the 'sma' hours' in the morning, and have since heard that he died about two years ago.†

* There is really such a ball, concerning which strange stories are told.

+ The writer may as well state, that the above legends have been written with a view of showing how easily, without spelling a word wrong, the English of an Irish peasant may be conveyed to the reader. It has frequently struck him that this peculiar mode of speaking might be represented by the idiom and characteristic expression, even more successfully than by an attempt -so often a failure to make the brogue represent the originality and humour of the peasantry of his birth-land.