outh this superstition is
entertained. However, I shall not detain the reader further by any
prefatory remarks, but shall proceed to lay before him the following:

Extract from the MS. Papers of the late Rev. Francis Purcell, of
Drumcoolagh.

I tell the following particulars, as nearly as I can recollect them, in
the words of the narrator. It may be necessary to observe that he
was what is termed a well-spoken man, having for a considerable time
instructed the ingenious youth of his native parish in such of the
liberal arts and sciences as he found it convenient to profess--a
circumstance which may account for the occurrence of several big words
in the course of this narrative, more distinguished for euphonious
effect than for correctness of application. I proceed then, without
further preface, to lay before you the wonderful adventures of Terry
Neil.

'Why, thin, 'tis a quare story, an' as thrue as you're sittin' there;
and I'd make bould to say there isn't a boy in the seven parishes could
tell it better nor crickther than myself, for 'twas my father himself it
happened to, an' many's the time I heerd it out iv his own mouth; an' I
can say, an' I'm proud av that same, my father's word was as incredible
as any squire's oath in the counthry; and so signs an' if a poor man
got into any unlucky throuble, he was the boy id go into the court an'
prove; but that doesn't signify--he was as honest and as sober a man,
barrin' he was a little bit too partial to the glass, as you'd find in a
day's walk; an' there wasn't the likes of him in the counthry round for
nate labourin' an' baan diggin'; and he was mighty handy entirely for
carpenther's work, and men din' ould spudethrees, an' the likes i' that.
An' so he tuk up with bone-settin', as was most nathural, for none of
them could come up to him in mendin' the leg iv a stool or a table; an'
sure, there never was a bone-setter got so much custom-man an' child,
young an' ould--there never was such breakin' and mendin' of bones
known in the memory of man. Well, Terry Neil--for that was my father's
name--began to feel his heart growin' light, and his purse heavy; an'
he took a bit iv a farm in Squire Phelim's ground, just undher the ould
castle, an' a pleasant little spot it was; an' day an' mornin' poor
crathurs not able to put a foot to the ground, with broken arms and
broken legs, id be comin' ramblin' in from all quarters to have their
bones spliced up. Well, yer honour,