overed by a blue quilt. We
will wager that some "good woman" has somewhere about the premises a few
cakes of hard griddle-wheat, to eat when they get hungry, with a glass
of punch, and, it may be, a good slice or two of excellent hung beef or
bacon. But now they approach town, and the stream thickens. There go the
beggars, mendicants, and impostors, showing a degree of agility rather
impracticable with their respective maladies, grievous and deplorable as
they all, of course, are; and toiling vehemently after them, hops "Bill
i' the Bowl," pitching himself along in a copper-fastened dish, with a
small stool or _creepie_ supporting each hand. But now the whole sweep
of the town and fair-green open to us; tents, and standings, and tables,
and roasting and boiling are all about us; for the _spoileen_ fires are
in operation, and many a fat sheep will be cut up, as well for those
who have never tasted mutton before, as for hundreds who eat rather
from hunger than curiosity. Heavens! what an astounding multitude of
discordant noises all blend into one hoarse, deep, drowsy body of sound,
for which we can find no suitable term. Cows lowing, sheep bleating,
pigs grunting, horses neighing, men shouting, women screaming, fiddlers
playing, pipes squeeling, youngsters, dancing, hammering up of standings
and tents, thumping of restive or lazy animals, the show-man's drum, the
lottery-man's speech, the ballad-singer's squall, all come upon us; and
lastly, the unheeded sweep of the death-bell, as it tells with sullen
tongues that some poor mortal has for ever departed from the cares and
amusements, the trade and traffic, of this transitory life.

About twelve o'clock the fair-tide is full; for that is the time in
which the greatest interchange of property, and the most vigorous
transactions of business, with all accompanying bustle and activity,
take place. For an hour or two this continues. About three o'clock the
tide is evidently on the ebb; business begins to slacken, and those
who have their transactions brought to a close, meet their families and
friends at the place of rendezvous--always a public house. It is now,
indeed, when the heat and burden of the day have passed, and refreshment
becomes both grateful and necessary, that the people fall into distinct
groups for the purpose of social enjoyment. If two young folk have been
for some time "_coortin_" one another, "the bachelor," which in Ireland
means a suitor, generally contri