re of turnip and
corn crops; in drainage on a large scale; in the building of capacious
farm-offices; in planting the land not of an arable quality; and
latterly, in the thinning of these plantations--all under the
direction of a Scotch steward--almost unlimited employment was given;
in addition to which, the establishment of a dispensary, the constant
residence of a valuable clergyman, a station for police, and the
intercourse carried on by the daily running of two public vehicles,
have combined to render the inhabitants of Ballyvourney as industrious
and civilised as those in any part of the British islands. They have
become a quiet and peaceable race; a riot is never heard of among
them; and the Stone of Victory has long been covered with lichen,
moss, and grass. The people annually assemble at the Holy Well, and go
their rounds at the station; and the little image of St Gobnet, in
the walls of an old church, is still looked on with adoration, and
handkerchiefs thrown up to touch it, that they may bring healing
virtue to the sick. The rector's residence is closely adjacent to the
Holy Well, the station, and the image of St Gobnet, and the stone of
victory within a few feet of his hall door. Yet he can go to bed at
night without a lock to a door, or a bar to a window. Women and girls
may be found in abundance who can thin and hoe turnips in the best
manner. As good ploughmen and agriculturists in the various
departments may now be had in Ballyvourney as in most places. All
faction-fights are at an end; and although, little more than twenty
years ago, these were the weekly Sabbath occupation, they are now like
an item of an old almanac. By employing similar means, might not other
parts of this naturally fine country be equally improved, and made the
abode of a thriving and contented people?
THE DAUGHTER OF THE BARDI.
A TRUE OLD TALE.
The Via dei Bardi is one of the most ancient streets of Florence.
Long, dark, and narrow, it reaches from the extremity of the Ponte
Rubaconte to the right of the Ponte Vecchio. Its old houses look
decayed and squalid now; but in former days they were magnificent and
orderly, full of all the state of those times, being the residences of
many of the Florentine nobility. How many struggles of faction, how
many scenes of civil war, have these old houses witnessed! for in the
period of their splendour, Florence was torn by intestine feuds; from
generation to generation, Guelfs a
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