558 MORNING. 



bacon like thrashers ; but Syl didn't touch a morsel of the mate, as he 

 had a longing to begin with the fish he had brought home, which his 

 mother had fried with her own hands. When they were laid before 

 him they looked so nice and brown that his teeth began to water, and 

 he made no more ado, but, sticking his fork into the fattest of them, 

 cut off a large slice, and clapped it into his mouth. But he had 

 hardly touched the bit, when, all at once, the Queen screeched out 

 4 Syl Coogan, you villain, is it ating my footman you are ?' 



" Poor Syl let his jaws drop, and was going to mollify the Queen, 

 when he persaved that she had vanished suddenly away, and had left 

 him sitting in his ould blue coat and corduroys instead of all the fine 

 clothes he had on him a minute afore. 



*' To be sure there was wondheringand staring amongst the neigh- 

 bours at this remarkable incidence, but all their wondhering nor all 

 Syl's curses upon every fish that ever swam were of no use ; the 

 beautiful Queen never came next or nigh him again. 



" Afther that evening Syl Coogan minded nothing but moping 

 about talking of his hard fortune, and bemoaning himself, until the 

 next St. Martin's eve, when he got his corragh and went upon the 

 river to look for the Water Queen in the place where he had first seen 

 her. What happened that night no one can tell for a sartainty. 

 Syl's corragh was drifted ashore the following morning, but Syl 

 himself never was seen or heard of since. Some of the ould people 

 say that the Queen forgave him, and took him back to her palace; 

 others say that she still kept spite a^ain him, and that she turned 

 him into the big salmon that we call Sylvesther. Any way, gintle- 

 men, if Syl Coogan hadn't been in such a hurry to get married, and 

 had kept his teeth off the Queen's footman, he might have lived and 

 died a king, and his children after him. You may laugh, gintlemen, 

 but ax all the neighbours, and they'll tell you the same.'' 



Our cicerone having concluded his legend, pushed his boat into an- 

 other part of the river, where Jack Wilson soon succeeded in hook- 

 ing a fine salmon ; which, after affording him considerable sport, he 

 at length succeeded in capturing, to the great gratification of Jim, 

 whose conversation, during the remainder of the day, turned more 

 upon sporting than legendary fables. 



MORNING. 



THE morning breaks, and, o'er the gleamy woods, 

 The sun-light pours its ever-burning floods. 

 But, beauteous morn, how dim to me thou art ; 

 Those eyes that made the day-spring of my heart, 

 And fillM my spirit with unmix'd delight, 

 They are not here to glad me with their light. 



Now Nature wakes in song, and from each dell, 

 And bosky dingle, liquid warblings swell ; 

 The murmur of the falling waters come 

 Like wand'ring spirits' music, and the hum 

 Of early bees are soothing to my ear ; 

 But where the tender tones I lov'd to hear ? 



Give back but thesethat voice of melody, 



That look of love and earth shall smile for me. HAFED. 



