liberty to take
them, but if not, he was to depart quietly, on pain of smarting for
it. The unfortunate individuals on whom they imposed this painful and
dangerous duty, were much to be pitied whilst this confederacy lasted.
To submit to an illegal oath, without reporting the matter to the next
magistrate, was a capital felony, as it was voluntarily to execute any
of their criminal behests. If, then, the unfortunate individual pitched
upon for the performance of this extraordinary office refused to
discharge it, he was probably shot by the Threshers or Carders, and if
he carried their wishes into effect, he was liable to be hanged by the
government, so that his option lay between the relative comforts of
being hanged or shot--a rather anomalous state of society, by the way.

The vengeance of the people against Purcel and his sons had now risen
or was fast rising, to its height. This intrepid man and these
resolute young men, aided by the writs of rebellion and the executive
authorities, had nerved themselves up to the collection of tithe,
through a spirit that was akin to vengeance. In fact, they felt an
inhuman delight--at least the father and his eldest son did--in levying
the execution of the writs in the most pitiless and oppressive manner.
They themselves provided horses and carts, and under protection of the
military and police--for both were now necessary--they swept off cattle,
crops, and furniture, at a ruinous value to the defaulters. At length
they proceeded to the house of a struggling widow, whose only son,
exasperated at the ruin which their proceedings had wrought upon his
mother, in an unguarded moment, induced a few thoughtless boys like
himself to resist the law. It was an act of folly for which his life
paid the penalty. He was shot dead on the spot, and his death proved the
signal for raising the gloomy curtain that veils the last of the drama
in which the tithe-proctor makes his appearance.

Soon after the death of this youth, John Parcel had occasion to go to
Dublin, to transact some business with the Rev. Dr. Turbot, and on his
way to the metropolis he was obliged to stop for more than an hour at
the county town, to await the arrival of the mail-coach. As he lingered
about the door of the coach-office, he noticed a crowd of persons
corning down the street, bearing something that resembled a human figure
on a beir. It was evidently the corpse of some person, but at the same
time he felt it could n