wonder to the neighbouring peasants; and so much had been talked of her strange history in my hearing, that I gladly accepted a warm invitation to join with a party of my boisterous rustic acquaintances in the revelries of her youngest daughter's wedding, which was celebrated with all the ancient rural pastimes and ceremonies at the house of the bride's hospitable father, the far-famed and venerable O'Donnel Strahan. He dwelt in the centre of a rich vale that basked in the vivifying beams of the noontide sun, a little on the left of a great highway. A strong rivulet flowed through the corn-fields around his abode, which seemed already ripe for the sickle, and bent beneath the weakest breeze that wandered over their yellow surface. Agricultural toil was suspended throughout the farm, the emancipated beasts were reclining beneath the shading hedge-rows, or hovering about the banks of the ponds, longing to quaff the cool liquid they enclosed, but fearful of the tormenting insects that buzzed over the weeds, and shot swiftly along the top of the waters. The birds sat mute beneath the broad leaves of the neighbouring wood, not a sound emanated from its shades, but the occasional bleat of the wandering kid, and the hoarse response of the mother-goat, as she sought out the young ones in the craggy wilderness. A loud burst of merriment at length broke upon our ears as we turned the summit of the last hill, and far below at the entrance of the valley we discerned the jolly host and his boon companions welcoming a group of young damsels in the joyous language of the old carol: "Welcome all of ye! We heard them singing for many minutes as they meandered along the banks of the rivulet towards the brown oaken portal of Strahan, where the whole assemblage of feasters hailed the fair reinforcement with one protracted and undiscriminate shout of delight. The holy bridal ceremony had been performed at an early hour of the day. The meats had been removed, and the merry guests were luxuriating in liquid good cheer when we arrived. A fine looking young priest was seated between the bridegroom 'and his love, at the centre of the board, rapidly distributing the rich bride-cake among the young men and maidens around him. The polished pewters which bore the spicy luxury to the several guests, were invariably returned with a trifling pecuniary gift. Neither man nor woman failed to drop "the priest's fee" into the plate with one hand, as the bride-cake was eagerly taken out by its fellow; and the aggregate donations soon swelled over the brim of the general receiving goblet in the lap of the bride. As soon as the cake and its accompaniments were disposed of, the girls and sage matrons present were indulged by the good wife's blue-eyed daughters with white peggens of praupeen, whereon they regaled as heartily as their boisterous companions did on the intoxicating potheen, to which the underground still in the neighbouring mountain had most probably, given birth. Praupeen is made of the ripening barley, plucked before the general harvest. It is dried upon the griddle over the turf-fire, that burns nightly on the stone hearth of the common kitchen, and after being coarsely ground and well sifted, blended with fine milk; and this simple preparation, although sweet, a clammy, and somewhat disgusting to the palate of a stranger, is esteemed by the peasants of Ireland as one of the greatest dainties the earth can afford. A motley group of mendicants, as usual, encircled the immense and well-stored chimney. A stout buchaugh was there “With his horn by his side, likewise his skewer and can, His staff and long pike to fight all the rogues in the land.” The lean piper, with his brown polished drones and greasy leathern bag, occupied the log-seat on the left; and immediately opposite to him sat a poor scholar with his frieze cap and wallet at his feet, and a well-patched satchel slung around his shoulder by a raw sheepskin belt. A lubberly vacant-looking gossoon basked at full length upon the flags, stirring about the embers of the fire without any apparent motive, and humming the gentle air of “The Moreen” to the manifest delight of a pale young woman, crowned with wheat-ears and wild-flowers, the emblem of quiet innocuous derangement, who gazed upon him over the shoulder of the kind and pitying buchaugh. An old woman with an infant swung in a coarse red cloak at her back, and a black doothien between her thin shrivelled lips, the fire of which she had suffered to die away, while gazing with tears in her rayless eyes upon the happy youths and laughing maidens at the board, stood a few paces apart from the rest. An old mutilated, rough-visaged ballad-maker, in a cocked hat and ragged bradeen (a coarse frieze coat), held the post of honour in the corner of the leather-backed settle nearest the hearth. The patched remains of a regimental coat might be detected through the gaps of his bradeen, and he flourished a burning faggot in bellicose style over his head, as he detailed in passionate terms some exploit of his youth in distant climes, to a neatly-arrayed blind woman, who alternately counted the beads on her bosom, and plied the shining needles through the grey-sheep's wool, whereof she was diligently fabricating a pair of hose for the holiday use of her grey-headed host. The old woman who bore the child at her back, eagerly seized the opportunity of a momentary silence (for which the guests looked in each other's faces as if at a loss to account), and approaching the young couple, laid a brown bony shrivelled hand upon each, and pronounced a rustic benison upon them. “ Bless you, my dear children," said she, “ may luck and grace attend you both! May you never look upon a black lamb the first of the yeaning time, nor a foal's back before you have seen his innocent face. May you never hear the blithe cuckoo when fasting, nor the ominous corncrake screeching on your left side. May the blue-pinioned raven never croak at your lattice, nor the old crow alight before you in the beaten track of man. May nothing that bodes evil to either of you appear in the dim light of the evening! May your hearths never want the bright-glowing logs, your homestead the stalled ox, your eves the nest of the lucky swallow, your thatch the green roof-weed that blossoms but once in the life of a man, and augurs prosperity and joy to those who dwell beneath its blessed and fast-clinging roots.” The old woman retired at the conclusion of this recapitulation of good and evil omens, evidently pleased with what she had done, and after replenishing her doothien, crouched by the side of the old buchaugh. She was on her road to the far-famed Foundling, whither she had engaged to travel from the heart of a distant county, Vol. I. No. 2.-Museum.. R for the usual fee of a guinea, to deposit the babe of some ruined lass in the blessed cradle of charity. She begged her way from village to village, every door was open to her throughout the land; for although the virtue-loving Milesians abhor the individual who stains the modest repute of the great congregation of Erin's maidens, yet the innocent fruit of her guilt, with its ancient and devoted protectress, is received with open arms at the wicker-gate of every cabin in the isle. Hospitality with the Irish is not a mere unmeaning word. The poorest peasant among them will joyfully share his meal with the buchaugh, the piper, the poor scholar, the wandering idiot, or the friendless stranger. They deem it one of the great duties of man, to feed and shelter his brother when in want; and take no glory to themselves in foregoing comforts, so that they may be enabled to confer necessaries on the poor and desolate. “Come and eat,” is the never-failing ejaculation that salutes the ear of the weary at an Irish portal. What they have they give cheerfully. There is no reluctant backwardness, no cold repelling tenders of food and lodging, companioned with hints at the inconveniences which will arise through a stranger's tarrying among them. They toss the contents of the jron crock within the boundary-hoop on the clean white board; the little wooden tubs are filled with milk; a truss of new straw is spread upon the floor for his repose, and he is almost forced to partake of their homely cheer. * The barefooted, black-haired scholar next approached the comely bride. He had a small keen hazel eye, the hereditary short nose and open vehement mouth of the unadúlterated Irish. His cheek was pale, and his curling black locks streamed negligently over bis high and expanded brow. After saluting the priest in tolerable Latin, and uttering a hearty “God save you” to the good man of the house and his noble-looking dame, he burst forth into the first notes of an old nuptial ditty in the pure unalloyed language of Erin. The piper and ballad-maker no sooner heard the melody dearest to their hearts, than suddenly starting from their seats they fell into the tune at the same instant, and with voice and instrument enthusiastically accompanied the animated stripling. The whole assemblage gradually joined in trowling the merry notes, and the younger guests, preceded by the musical triumvirate, led the bride and bridegroom to the inviting spot of smooth turf that lay a few yards distant from the threshold, to witness the ceremony of the “pillow dance,” and all the quaint customs observed at a rustic bridal, which the poor scholar loudly recapitulated in his joyous rhymes. I remained a short time with the elders at the board, but one of Strahan's daughters was soon deputed to invite us forth to the carousal on the bawn. We immediately followed her to the green plat before the porch, which we found closely shaven in the centre, encircled with turf-seats, and daintily bestrewed with bansheen lakar or green rushes, on the which the guests were seated in groups, some quaffing their brown shebeen and golden-tinted whiskey, and others evidently in At this moment, alas ! many of them have nought to give, and Ireland is indebted to the glorious liberality of Englishmen for the lives of many of her sons. The hearty benison of every Irishman is upon them; and may they live to see the sister-country in happier days, and some of them be then tempted to wander about her green hills and valleys, where they may personally experience the warmth and enerosity of a true Irishman's heart. a anxious expectation of the signal for dancing from the piper's hoarsevoiced drone. Dick Veogh of Kilcash, one of the most roaring blades between Strongbow's tower and the heart of the province, appeared at one side of the bawn as we entered at the other, bearing the bride's pillow, elevated above his head, and loudly proclaiming his intention of calling forth the tallest and most comely woman on the bawn, to join with him in all the glories of the great pillow-dance. A shout of admiration greeted the entry of the youth, who took his station in the heart of the assembly, and by a slight motion of his head intimated to the bride's father that he required immediate silence and attention. The old man immediately rose on the turf-bank, and throwing his hand over the white wavy locks that shadowed his face, soon quelled the general uproar of the roysters, whose eyes were bent with an expression of anxious curiosity on the Veogh. He was a handsome, well a . made youth, just verging on the brink of manhood, with an eloquent hazel-eye, a sparkling brow, a wreathed cheek, and a heart that did honour to the bosom it warmed. Methought some of the girls turned upon him with an imploring look, dashed with a spark of waggish merriment, as he sought out his jewel in the rich group of youth, health, and womanly beauty which encircled him. In a few moments his eyes were rivetted on a noble-looking fair-skinned young woman, who sat at the right-hand of the bride, and appeared to be wholly absorbed in unravelling the leaves and laying bare the blushing heart of a rosebud which adorned her dawning bosom. By her apparel I knew her to be one of the celebrated girls of the Barony of Iverk. She was arrayed in a sherkeen of blue frieze, laced and braided in front with broad blue ribbons, and a petticoat of the saine materials, gathered in folds at the back of her waist, and decorated with a single ribbon of a similar colour and width to that which adorned the accurately-fitting jacket or sherkeen. She wore a pair of plain silver clasps in her shoes, her blue stockings were delicately braided up the ancles, and a crucifix suspended by a string of polished brown beads moved with the rise and fall of her young bosom. Its motion was considerably accelerated as she felt the eye of the Kilcash youth revelling on her cheek, and he seemed to enjoy by anticipation the rapture of pressing her lip at the conclusion of the dance. He immediately proclaimed her to be the lass of his heart, and the fairest of the bridemaids; and the blue-eyed Iverkian tripped gracefully to the centre of the sward. She received the white down pillow from the admirer's hands, and in a few moments began to dance with a fine buoyant air round the bawn, to the apt and beautiful cadence of one of the native tunes of her Barony, which she warbled out with a grace and expression peculiar to the gifted Iverkians. After two or three circuits, she gradually veered towards the spot from whence she had started, and as the last notes of the melody were gushing from her lips, dropped on her knees upon the pillow, which she had just thrown upon the green. The happy Veogh instantly bounded from his seat, and kneeling by her side, warmly saluted the deep-rosy lips of the maiden. He received the customary kiss on the cheek in return, and, amid the cheers of the assembly, led the fair Iverkian to her seat on the right hand of the bride. The pipes now pealed forth a heart-gladdening air—the boys and girls (that is to say, all present, whether old or young, who were unmarried) proceeded to the choice of partners and companions, and in a short time the bawn a exhibited the regular complicated movements, and well known but apparently mazy labyrinths of the national reel and merry jig. After the lapse of an hour the mystic nuptial rites were commenced. The bridegroom's nuts were thrown, and scrambled for by the clamorous youngsters; small pieces of the hoarded cake were passed through the wedding-ring for the bride's most intimate and best beloved companions, and the enamoured young men “seized the fair occasion” of declaring their love by dropping the white unsullied glove which the young wife wore in the last hour of her maidenhood at the feet of their sweethearts in the romping game of " the marriage morn.” After fatiguing themselves at these and similar sports, they gradually subsided into calmer amusements. A goblet of fountain water was brought out, and a quantity of new eggs placed upon the turf. The girls, after exhibiting a little becoming reluctance, tripped one by one to the sparkling goblet, wherein they hoped to discover the occupation of their future lords. The white of an egg was thrown into the vessel, and the station of the youth with whom the ministering lass was destined to wed deduced from the strange figure it assumed in the curdling liquid. While the ceremony (which produced peals of laughter from the joyous bystanders) was going on, some of the more cunning lasses were diligently plucking the pins from the bride's garments, which it is necessary to obtain by stealth, otherwise the charm wherein they are used would be inevitably abortive. They are thrust into a piece of the bride-loaf which has passed through the holy ring, and placed by the happy possessor beneath her pillow for the purpose of charming her into a dream about the present or future lad of her heart. Numberless other ancient customs were performed with the most rigid adherence to every particular which had been transmitted from bridal to bridal as necessary to render the several charms infallible. Old tales, humours and pathetic traditions, the feats of elves and goblins, songs, and rustic jokes, filled up the short intervals that occasionally happened between the rites, until the full harvest-moon rose from a grey cloud above the adjacent hills. A pilgrimage to the Claugh was then devised, and all acceded to the welcome but unexpected proposal with the most turbulent indications of joy. No time was lost in needless preparation; men, women, and children, tarried but a moment to gather a stone each, and then, preceded by the tottering but enthusiastic musician, danced hand-in-hand down the green lane that led to holy Claugh. We soon arrived at an open space from which four pathways branched in different directions. In the heart of a hillock of stones, surmounted by a small green coronal of turf, a venerable thorn reared its moss-clothed boughs: this was the Claugh, and he who failed to throw a stone upon the heap as he passed was deemed an unrepenting sinner, and held in utter detestation and contempt for ever after. All the stones in the vicinity of the old thorn (as is usually the case) had long before disappeared, and pebbles were gathered by the provident a mile or more before they reached the junction of the paths. If this precaution were omitted, the luckless wight retraced his steps until chance threw a pebble in his way; and none but the graceless and depraved ever passed the ancient thorn without paying the customary tribute to its base, and imploring a blessing on the heads of those who were “nearest and dearest to his |