een surmounted the fields were "squared,"
the odds and ends of lands consolidated, and the partnership in
fields, with its absurd practice of cultivating alternate ridges,
abolished.

In a speech addressed by the Knight of Kerry to his tenants, he
distinctly put his foot down on the system of subdivision, to which
the peasantry of Ireland are almost insanely attached. He determined
to permit nothing of the kind in the future. To those who had already
subdivided he offered new mountain farms, leaving the sub-dividers to
decide who should remain and who should remove. To those removed for
sub-dividing their small holdings, and to those whose still smaller
patches made their removal imperative, reclaimed and reclaimable lands
at Corobeg and Bray Head were offered, with brand new houses; and
after much discussion and final casting of lots the extruded ones
resigned themselves to the fearful doom of removal from the spots to
which they had long clung like limpets.

To reach Valentia Island it is necessary to leave the railway track
from Mallow to Tralee, and at Killarney commence what in London
parlance might be called a cruise in a "growler;" for an unmistakable
"growler," well built and comfortably lined, was the vehicle supplied
to me as a "carriage," with a pair of excellent horses, by Spillane,
the sometime guide and present postingmaster of Killarney. The
postchaise assumes many forms in Ireland, but only once have I met the
original _coupe_ holding only two persons. It is a long drive to the
ferry at the extremity of the peninsula between the bays of Kenmare
and Dingle. Beyond, the Island of Valentia lies like a breakwater
against the Atlantic, and the scene at nightfall is strange enough,
with flashing lanterns, shouting ferrymen, and plashing oars. The
ferryman is far from considering Valentia Harbour as a drawback to the
island, and, like a fine old discontented retainer as he is, complains
bitterly of the attempt made years ago by the late Knight of Kerry to
establish a steam ferry. But ferrymen are always stern sticklers for
vested rights. Doubtless Charon claimed heavy compensation when the
Styx Ferry was disestablished. Apart from the ferryman, however, the
Valentians are by no means enamoured of their insular position. "That
ould blackgyard of a ferry" is, in fact, just now a serious item of
discontent.

It is urged by the islanders, nearly three thousand in number,
including the villagers, the quarrymen,