would puzzle a
Philadelphia lawyer. Spinning along the lane to Killaloe, with Mr.
Beesley, of Leeds, and Mr. Abraham Keeley, of Mallow, balanced on
opposite sides of a jaunting car, we came on a semi-savage specimen of
the genuine Irish sort. Semi-savage! he was seven-eighths savage, and
semi-lunatic, just clever enough to mind the cows and goats which,
with a donkey or two, grazed by the way-side. He might be
five-and-twenty, and looked strong and lusty. His naked feet were
black with the dirt of his childhood, and not only black, but shining
and gleaming in the sun. His tattered trousers were completely worn
away to the knee, showing his muscular legs to perfection. The rags
that clothed his body were confusing and indefinite. You could not
tell where one garment ended and another began, or whether there were
more than one at all. Cover a pump with boiling glue, shake over it a
sack of rags, and you will get an approximate effect of his costume.
His tawny, matted hair and beard had never known brush, comb, or
steel. It was a virgin forest. He scratched his head with the air of
the old woman who said "Forty years long have this generation troubled
me;" and ran after the car with outstretched hand. I threw him a
penny, upon which he threw himself at full length, his tongue hanging
out, a greedy sparkle in his eye. My Irish friend instantly stopped
the car.

"Now I'll show you something. This man is more than half an idiot, but
watch him." Then he cried:

"Come here, now, I'll toss you for the penny."

The man came quickly forward.

"Now then, put down your penny, and call. What is it? Head or harp,
speak while it spins!"

"Head," shouted the savage, and head it was.

He picked up the second penny with glee, and said with a burst of wild
laughter. "Toss more, more, more; toss ever an' always; toss agin,
agin, agin."

The car-driver was disgusted. "Bad luck to ye for a madman. Ye have
the gamblin' blood in ye. Bedad, ye'd break Monty Carly, ye would."

Then looking at the gambler's black and polished feet, he said:--

"Tell me, now, honey, is it Day an' Martin's ye use?"

Ennis (Co. Clare), April 29th.

No. 16.--CIVIL WAR IN COUNTY CLARE.

The name of Bodyke is famous throughout all lands, but few people know
anything about the place or the particulars of the great dispute. The
whole district is at present in a state of complete lawlessness. The
condition of matters is almost incredible, and is su