e to you
first all burnished, glittering and radiant, then 'veiled in mist and
diamonded with showers.' We climb, climb, up, up, into the heart of the
leafy loveliness; peering down into dewy dingles, stopping now and again
to watch one of the countless streams as it tinkles and gurgles down
an emerald ravine to join the lakes. The way is strewn with lichens and
mosses; rich green hollies and arbutus surround us on every side;
the ivy hangs in sweet disorder from the rocks; and when we reach the
innermost recess of the glen we can find moist green jungles of ferns
and bracken, a very bending, curling forest of fronds:--

'The fairy's tall palm-tree, the heath bird's fresh nest,
And the couch the red deer deems the sweetest and best.'

Carrantual rears its crested head high above the other mountains, and on
its summit Shon the Outlaw, footsore, weary, slept; sighing, "For once,
thank God, I am above all my enemies."

You must go to sweet Innisfallen, too, and you must not be prosaic or
incredulous at the boatman's stories, or turn the 'bodthered ear to
them.' These are no ordinary hillsides: not only do the wee folk troop
through the frond forests nightly, but great heroic figures of romance
have stalked majestically along these mountain summits. Every waterfall
foaming and dashing from its rocky bed in the glen has a legend in the
toss and swirl of the water.

Can't you see the O'Sullivan, famous for fleetness of foot and prowess
in the chase, starting forth in the cool o' the morn to hunt the red
deer? His dogs sniff the heather; a splendid stag bounds across the
path; swift as lightning the dogs follow the scent across moors and
glens. Throughout the long day the chieftain chases the stag, until at
nightfall, weary and thirsty, he loses the scent, and blows a blast on
his horn to call the dogs homeward.

And then he hears a voice: "O'Sullivan, turn back!"

He looks over his shoulder to behold the great Finn McCool, central
figure in centuries of romance.

"Why do you dare chase my stag?" he asks.

"Because it is the finest man ever saw," answers the chieftain
composedly.

"You are a valiant man," says the hero, pleased with the reply; "and
as you thirst from the long chase, I will give you to drink." So he
crunches his giant heel into the rock, and forth burst the waters,
seething and roaring as they do to this day; "and may the divil fly away
wid me if I've spoke an unthrue word, ma'am!"

Come