r how
all that water sprung up out of the mountain? for sure, isn't there a
bit of a lake above there, in the hollow of the hill that the waterfall
comes out of,--they calls it O'Sullivan's Punch Bowl?"

"And, pray, who was this O'Sullivan that had such a capacious Punch
Bowl?"

"Och, then, 'tis he's the fine, portly looking _jantleman_, and has a
_vice_ (voice) as big as twenty; 'twould do your heart good to hear the
cry of him on a stag hunt day, making the mountain ring again."

"Well, Doolan, you haven't told me all this time who O'Sullivan is."

"Why, then, that's the _quare_ question for your honour to be after
_axing_ me. Sure all the country knows O'Sullivan of Toomies, for didn't
him, and his father before him, live at the butt end of the mountain,
near the neck of the Lawn; and wasn't they great chieftains in the
_ould_ times; and hadn't they a great sketch of country to themselves:
they haven't so much now, for their hearts were too big for their
_manes_ (means;) and that's the _rason_ O'Sullivan was obligated to sell
this part of the mountain to Mr. Herbert of Mucruss?"

"A sad story this, Doolan; but it seems to me these O'Sullivans must
have been very fond of a bowl of punch, or why is the lake you mentioned
called O'Sullivan's Punch Bowl?"

"Oh, then, your honour's as sharp as a needle entirely; but about that
same lake it's a _quare_ story sure enough. A long time before there was
a waterfall here at all, one of the _rale ould_ O'Sullivans was out all
day hunting the red deer among the mountains. Well, sir, just as he was
getting quite weary, and was wishing for a drop of the _cratur_ to put
him in spirits--"

"Or spirits into him," said I.

"Oh, sure, 'tis all the same thing," returned Doolan with a grin,
intended for a smile. "'Tis all one surely, if a man can only have the
drop when he wants it. Well, what should O'Sullivan see but the most
beautiful stag that ever was seen before or since in this world; for he
was as big as a colt, and had horns upon him like a weaver's beam, and a
collar of real gold round his neck. Away went the stag, and away went
the dogs after him full cry, and O'Sullivan after the dogs, for he was
determined to have that beautiful fine stag; and though, as I said, he
was tired and weary enough, you'd think the sight of that stag put fresh
life into him. A pretty bit of a dance he led him, for he was an
enchanted stag. Away he went entirely off by Macgillicuddy's Reeks,