e a hard case av the priest was to want.
Look how the ould saddle fits him! faix, ye 'd think he was made for
it!'

I am not quite sure that I felt all Joe's enthusiasm for the beast's
perfections; nor did the old yeomanry 'demi-pique,' with its brass
mountings and holsters, increase my admiration. Too happy, however, to
leave a spot where all my recollections were now turned to gloom and
despondence, I packed my few traps, and was soon ready for the road.

It was not without a gulping feeling in my throat, and a kind of
suffocating oppression at my heart, that I turned from the little room
where in happier times I had spent so many pleasant hours, and bidding a
last good-bye to the priest's household, told them to say to Father Tom
how sad I felt at leaving before he returned. This done, I mounted the
little pony, and escorted by Joe, who held the bridle, descended the
hill, and soon found myself by the little rivulet that murmured along
the steep glen through which our path was lying.

CHAPTER XLI. TIPPERARY JOE

I have already passingly alluded to Joe's conversational powers; and
certainly they were exercised on this occasion with a more than common
ability. Either taking my silence as a suggestion for him to speak, or
perhaps, and more probably, perceiving that some deep depression was
over me, the kind-hearted fellow poured forth his stores of song and
legend without ceasing. Now amusing me by his wild and fitful snatches
of old ballads, now narrating in his simple but touching eloquence some
bygone story of thrilling interest, the long hours of the night passed
over, and at daybreak we found ourselves descending the mountain towards
a large and cultivated valley, in which I could faintly distinguish in
the misty distance the little mill where our relay was to be found.

I stopped for a few minutes to gaze upon the scene before me. It was one
of those peaceful landscapes of rural beauty which beam more of soothing
influence upon the sorrow-struck heart than the softest voice of
consolation. Unlike the works of man, they speak directly to our souls
while they appeal to our reason; and the truth comes forced upon us,
that we alone must not repine. A broad and richly cultivated valley was
bounded by mountains whose sides were clothed with deep wood; a stream,
whose wayward course watered every portion of the plain, was seen now
flowing among the grassy meadows, now peeping from the alders that
lined the ban