er of the spectators
to get the first glimpse of honest Thade Crowley as he walked in front
of his own particular lodge of the Hibernians. He was a portly,
well-built man, of ruddy complexion, and open, genial countenance. He
wore buckskin breeches, top boots, green tabinet double-breasted
waistcoat, bottle-green coat with brass buttons, and beaver hat. The
Crowleys were very popular in the neighbourhood, as they never had but a
kindly word for everybody.

When I was a small boy, about 9 or 10 years old, I often listened with
delight to Mrs. Crowley, who had a fluent tongue, expatiating on the
glories of her native city--

By the pleasant waters of the River Lee.

and I have heard her exclaiming, I at the time believing it most
implicitly:

"Sin, is it? Sure. I never heard of sin till I came to Liverpool;
there's no sin in Cor-r-k!"

And she rattled the "r" with a strong rising inflexion, greatly
impressing me with the high character of Ireland and of Cork in
particular.

At that time I had never seen Ireland but as an infant at my mother's
breast.

CHAPTER III.

IRELAND RE-VISITED.

I was a boy of about 12 when I first re-visited Ireland; and, as the
steamer entered Carlingford Lough, which to my mind almost equals
Killarney's beauty--but that, perhaps, is a Northman's prejudice--with
the noble range of the Mourne mountains on the one side and the
Carlingford Hills on the other, it seemed to my young imagination like a
glimpse of fairy land.

Carlingford reminded me of what my old masters, the Christian Brothers,
used to teach us, that those places ending in "ford" had at one time
been Norse settlements. There is not the slightest trace, I should say,
of people of Norse descent along this coast now, unless we accept the
theory that would regard as such the descendants of the Norman De
Courcy's followers, who can be recognised by their names, and are still
to be found, side by side, and intermingling with those of the original
Celtic children of the soil in the barony of Lecale. It is astonishing,
by the way, how you still find in Ireland, after centuries of successive
confiscations, the old names in their old tribal lands, mingled in
places, as in Lecale, with the Norman names; the two races being now
thoroughly amalgamated--as distinguished from the case of King James's
Planters in Ulster, who, to this day are, as a rule, as distinct from
the population amongst whom they live--whether of pu