Kidd and Dr. Quain (I forget which
is which), met at the bedside of Lord Beaconsfield, and medical men
admit the doctor's professional eminence. His eighty-four years sit
lightly upon him. He looks no more than fifty at most, is straight as
a reed, active as a hare, runs upstairs like a boy of fourteen, has
the clear blue eye and fresh rosy skin of a young man. He would give
the Grand Old Man fifty in a hundred and beat him out of his boots. He
might be Mr. Gladstone's son, if he were only fond of jam. The Doctor
said several hundred good things which I would like to print, but as
our many conferences were unofficial this would be hardly fair.
However, I feel sure Doctor O'Shaughnessy will forgive my repeating
one statement of his--premising that the Doctor is a devout Catholic,
and that he knows all about land.

"The Protestants are not the worst landlords. The hardest men, the
most unyielding men the tenants have to meet are the Roman Catholic
landlords, the new men."

Here is some food for thought. These few words, properly considered,
cover much ground. The Doctor is a Home Ruler, an ardent lover of his
country, one of the best of the many high-minded men I have met in
Ireland. Were such as he in the forefront of the battle, John Bull
might hand the Irish a blank cheque. The consciousness of trust is of
all things most binding on men of integrity. But for Mr. Gladstone to
hand the honour of England to Horsewhipped Healy and Breeches O'Brien,
showing his confidence in them by permitting it to be taken round the
corner--that is a different thing. I forgot to mention a remarkable
feature in the history of Limerick City, a parallel of which is found
in the apocryphal castle in England for which the unique distinction
is claimed that Queen Elizabeth never slept there. And so far as I can
learn, Tim Healy has not yet been horsewhipped in Limerick.

Bodyke (Co. Clare), May 2nd.

No. 18.--HARD FACTS FOR ENGLISH READERS.

Cort is a quiet wayside country town about forty miles from Limerick,
a little oasis of trees and flowers, with a clear winding trout-stream
running all about it. The streets are wide, the houses well-built, the
pavements kerbed and in good condition. Trees are bigger and more
numerous than usual, and the place has a generally bowery appearance
such as is uncommon in Ireland, which is not famous for its timber.
Trees are in many parts the grand desideratum, the one thing needful
to perfect th