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cences would be worthy the attention of the readers of Bentley's Miscellany. We recommend him to their notice, as a link of some value in the glorious chain of modern enlightenment. On issuing from the Operahouse on Saturday next, let them shout aloud the henceforward immortalized name of-CORNEY CREGAN!'



In the old mill of Pouldu, not far from the point of rock which seems to cleave the roaring waves at its feet, lived the miller Trevihan, who was more than a hundred years old, and had lived in that mill as long as any man could remember. He had witnessed as many shipwrecks as there are nights in the year; he had seen as many steeples stricken with lightning as there are weeks; and no one could say how many times he had beheld the Doll-men with dancing dwarfs circling round its huge stones. He had visited the Tourigans in their caves; and he knew all things past and to come.

He was dwarfish in stature, and his large bragaw-bras,* like great flour. sacks, seemed to bury him in their folds. His long thin legs were finished by huge long feet. His big head rested on his breast, which was prominent and pointed; his mouth was wide and grinning, and his two eyes unlike each other. When he sat at night in his mill, smoking his short pipe, he looked like a fiend risen up amidst the darkness; yet this frightful monster dared to love one of the prettiest girls in the parish. Her name was Francique, and she was betrothed to the young sailor, Kerias, who had been out for several weeks at sea; and during his absence her father, who was very avaricious, !ent an ear to the proposals of the dwarf.

* But Trevihan is old and hideous,' said the pretty maiden, “and Kerias is so handsome and young; besides, I gave him my promise, and I will wed none but him.'

When Trevihan heard this, he said to himself, 'It is true I look aged, but I have the power to renew my youth ; and why should I not again have recourse to the Tourigan, who will aid me?'

Accordingly he went into the pine wood of Kérisonet, and there, in the midst of the trees, by the side of a little fountain, he saw the fairy combing her hair.

What would you with me?' said she. “Fifty years ago, and ten before that, you came to me for youth; if I grant it you again, you must give me up your bride to nurse my little changeling, as you have done all your brides before.'

She shall be yours a year and a day after I have married her,' said the miller. He drew his knife, and spilled three drops of his blood in the fountain ; a cloud rose out of it, and covered him all round; when it cleared

away there stood in his place a handsome young mariner, gay and sprightly, who took his way back to the village, and stopped at the gate of Francique.

* Culottes.

Open, open, Francique,' said he ; 'I am Kerias, come back from sea to claim your promise.'

Very happy was the pretty maiden when she saw her lover, and she welcomed him with embraces; but she bade him hasten away, for her father had forbidden her to hold discourse with him, as she was to marry the dwarf of the mill of Pouldu.

* Fear not,' said her lover, he is no longer here to trouble you ; no one has seen him at his mill, and it is said he has fallen over the cliff into the sea. I am rich now, and your father will not refuse me your hand.

The father of Francique loved gold, and as Kerias had plenty, and the dwarf appeared no more, he gave his consent, and the wedding-day was fixed by Francique. But Francique was always unhappy: she did not feel her first love for Kerias; she shuddered when he came near her, and always wished him away ; and at last she could endure her feelings no longer, and resolved to make a pilgrimage to the chapel of Ste. Ninoc'h, on the borders of the wood of Kérisonet. She got up one morning by daybreak, and pursued her way; she had not gone far when a little white fawn suddenly started out of a brake, and began to play round her. She was much alarmed, and walked on, saying her paternoster all the way; for she knew whoever sees the white fawn of Ste. Ninoc'h will lose her husband on the day of her marriage. The fawn kept gamboling before her, and she thought the whole time of all she had heard of that mysterious animal. A thousand years ago, this fawn was pursued by hunters, and took refuge in the oratory of Ste. Ninoc'h, whose hermitage was in this wood. Ever since then the fawn haunted these glades, and, though constantly hunted and attacked, it remained unhurt.

When she got to the chapel it vanished, and there she said her prayers devoutly, and laid her distaff and flax on the altar with pious care. After some time she left the place to return home, her heart much lightened, and as she reached the edge of the wood she met Kerias coming to meet her, and, to her surprise, felt towards him the same affection as ever. She told him she had now no regrets, and would no longer delay naming the wedding-day. Kerias smiled, and replied that he had that morning only returned from sea, and was rejoiced to find such happiness awaited him.

I am,' he said, ' as poor as ever; and will your father consent ?' What can you mean? replied the maiden ; 'is not everything ready, and my consent alone wanting, not my father's, for that he has given ? As for being poor, that is a joke, as we know, and he thinks it a very good

For myself, it is you I love, not your gold ; and to-morrow I will be your wife.

Èverything was ready next morning; the bride-maids, and men with their flowers and ribands; plenty of crêpes on the board, and the basvalan* full of merriment. She was taken to church by her father and her friends; but as she alighted from her little white horse at the door, to the surprise of all, two trains approached from opposite roads, and preceding them appeared two young men in sailors' dress, both so like each other that it was impossible to pronounce which was or was not Kerias. The bride shrieked with astonishment, but ran immediately to the one whom her heart told her was the true; but her father insisted on the other being the real bridegroom, and a great contention ensued. While this was going


* Negotiator of weddings.

on the priest came forward, and bade them all enter the church, which they did.

Now,' said he, ‘I will marry this maiden to both these men, in the name of the blessed Ste. Ninoc'h, who will reveal which is the true one. Till to-night, let every one watch in the churchyard; the bride and the two bridegrooms shall remain close to the altar with me, and Heaven will provide for the rest.'

All was done as the priest had commanded, and they remained in prayer during the rest of that day. At the close of evening the churchyard gate suddenly opened next the wood, and in the sight of all a little white fawn came trotting up to the church-porch. As soon as one of the bridegrooms saw this he became agitated, and uttered strange sounds; bis garments began to rustle, and his body to swell: suddenly he burst forth with a long loud howl, his clothes disappeared, and a hideous wolf darted out of the church in pursuit of the white fawn, which bounded off into the wood.

The true Kerias and his beloved remained thunderstruck, and falling on their knees at the altar thanked the blessed saint for their deliverance. The dwarf of the mill was never seen again alive; but his spirit may be sometimes beheld hovering amongst the ruins of the mill of Pouldu, sometimes in the shape of an aged and deformed man, sometimes as a Loup-garou, when he utters such hideous and appalling howls, that the old mill trembles, and


A DIEU, the city's ceaseless hum,

The haunts of sensual life, adieu!
Green fields, and silent glens, we come,

To spend this bright spring-day with you.

Whether the hills and vales shall gleam

With beauty, is for us to choose ;
For leaf and blossom, rock and stream,

Are coloured with the spirit's hues.
Here to the seeking soul is brought

A nobler view of human fate,
And higher feeling, higher thought,

And glimpses of a higher state.

Through change of time, on sea and shore,

Serenely nature smiles alway;
Yon infinite blue sky bends o'er

Our world, as at the primal day.
The self-renewing earth is moved

With youthful life each circling year;
And flowers thai Ceres' daughter loved

At Enna, now are blooming here.
Glad Nature will this truth reveal,

That God is ours, and we are His ;
Oh! friends! my friends! what joy to feel

That He our living Father is!




I HAD grown tired of home, and small blame to me. There wasn't a fox from Kilnaghee to Brownstown but we had exterminated ; and even if a straggler was to be found, the hounds, alas ! were no longer likely to be forthcoming. The colonel who kept the dogs so long, and used to make them go in such sporting style, was gone to the dogs himself; the doctors had got hold of Mark Nolan ; the sheriff of Hubert Brown ; Luke Battersby was off to the Continent, to prevent his bodily health being put in similar peril; the races of Listurrock had followed the fate of the Olympian games; and, save and except the fair of Ballinasloe, and an odd shindy with the military at Athlone or Loughrea, the devil an inducement was in the whole province to cause a reasonable man to abide within it for a fortnight. So much for the want of fun,-no small want for a Connaught man under

any circumstances, but an especial want to me, who had nothing else to tempt me to stay in the world at all, let alone in Connaught, at least unless the times got better, and half a score creditors were to go to their rest, leaving no heirs behind them.

My poor father was, you know, up to the nose in debt; profession or occupation had I none; and when it pleased heaven to call him to the rest of the Donnellans, I had nothing else

to expect but the pleasure of being compelled to divide his effects among his creditors, at the rate of ten shillings in the pound, and turn out on the world a walking gentleman.

had revolved in my mind every method whereby I had ever heard money had been made in a hurry, from pitch-and-toss to horse-racing and gold-finding, without meeting anything to please me, and was fretting away in a most melting state of uncertainty, when it pleased Rody Fitzgerald to return home from Demerara, 'a made man, as his trumpeters declared him. Rody always had a taste for description, and what between the flattering pictures he drew, and the still more seducing testimony his own good fortune lent to his eloquence, it was not long until my mind was made up to cross the Atlantic, and do wonders like my neighbours. I hadn't much difficulty in persuading the people at home of the propriety of my resolution, if only the needful could be raised for the purpose; and having, by the sale of a couple of hunters, helped to remove that obstacle, there was shortly nothing to prevent me from setting out at once to my destination. I had still

, however, a lingering idea that if I could manage to spend a week or so in Dublin previously, I might perhaps fall on a readier method of raising the name of Donnellan ; for my vanity told me I had made something more than a common impression on Grace Seymour ; and, independent of my being sunk into the lowest pit of love on her account, report gave out that whoever won Grace would stand in good repute at the



Bank of Ireland. Our acquaintance commenced at a sort of ball that was given after the races of Kilnacoppul about a twelvemonth before, at which, notwithstanding that, to my taste at least, she was the prettiest girl in the room, she was likely to remain idle for want of a partner, owing to the awkwardness of her chaperons, some people from the far end of the county, with whom she was on a visit, and who knew nobody.

"Get a partner, Bob,' says old Mrs. O'Dowd to me, while the set was forming, and she hooked me at once, with the intention of compelling me to relieve one of her daughters from their ornamental position in the corner behind the door. I saw that I should either submit to be immolated, or else do something desperate; and, as I threw my eye round the room in search of some one whom I might make the instrument of my escape from Miss Winny's bad dancing, or Miss Marcy's confounded dulness, my glance fell on Grace, and sought to go no farther. Muttering something about a lady of my acquaintance being in want of a partner, I fled from the baffled dowager, and, as the emergency of the case admitted of no delay, mustered up as much assurance as I could, and advancing to the pretty little stranger, claimed the honour of her hand, -was accepted, I suppose for want of a better, and, before our acquaintance dated ten minutes, we were figuring down a line of a dozen couples, to the joint performance of two fiddles and a bagpipe. She was a little shy or so at first, as was but natural, until the first couple was turned; by the time we reached the second we were a trifle more intimate ; but according as the fun grew warmer and the noise louder, her reserve began gradually to melt ; so that when our labours ceased we knew each other as well, ay, as if we had been born on the one bog.

As I had the name of being rather quarrelsome in such matters, no one asked to interfere between me and my prize ; so I had her to myself nearly all the remainder of the evening, and right well resigned to her fate she appeared to be moreover. As for me, I began to feel very queer all over the left side of my body, and the gipsy looked as if nothing on her part should be wanting to further the sensation. In the course of a little innocent flirtation, I drew out of her that she lived in Dublin, and was then on a visit with a Galway relation, but expected to return home in a few days, and a great many other little etceteras

, that it wouldn't do to make parish news of. Before we parted, the affair had assumed a very promising appearance; and my joy reached its climax when she intimated to me, that if ever I visited the metropolis, she would take it as a great unkindness in me if I did not call on her and her mother to renew the acquaintance so auspiciously begun. I swore, of course, that if it was for no other purpose but to see her again, I would be in Dublin almost as soon as herself; and so I saw her into her vehicle, after many protestations, and sundry hand-squeezings, and returned home a woe-begone man, smitten to the core by the charms of Grace Seymour.

Things of this kind are seldom secrets, and I was rallied on all hands ; but it ceased to be a joke with me when, with the laudable communicativeness always exhibited by one's friends, when they have some execrable piece of bad news to dispose of, I was informed after a time that she was just going to be married to a gentleman, with whom her friends were very anxious she should be united ; while, with a charitable anxiety to lighten the blow to me, they added, that I might derive some consolation from the fact, that the happy man

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