1830.], Recollections, $c. 411 



It may seem a matter of no extraordinary difficulty to give a plain 

 answer to a plain question; and yet it is an art which it evidently 

 requires some trouble to learn. In all half-civilized nations, the 

 inquirer for the most simple thing is met by an enigma for an answer ; 

 and, among the peasantry of Scotland and Ireland, civilized as the 

 general communities may be, the system often seems to be studied eva- 

 sion. This- dialogue is the model of thousands in the sister isle : 



" Is-this the nearest road to Cork ?" 



" Is it to Cork you are going ?" 



" Yes, but my question is, as to the nearest road ?" 



" Why, this road is as near as that on the other side of the hill; for neither 

 of them is anyroad at all." - 



ff Then which way ought I to go ?" 



" Oh, that depends on your honour's own liking. Perhaps you wouldn't 

 like to go back again ?" 



" Certainly not. But, one word for all, my good fellow do you know 

 anything about any kind of road here ?" 



" There now, if your honour had asked that before, I could have told you 

 at once." 



" Out with it then." 



{f Why the truth is, your honour, that I am a stranger in these parts ; and 

 the best thing you can do is to stop till somebody comes that knows all about 

 the way." 



" Stupid scoundrel ! why did you not say so at first ?" 



" Stupid ! that's all my thanks. But why did not your honour ask me 

 if I belonged to the place ? that would have settled the business. Take a 

 fool's advice, and stop where you are." 



Mr. C. Croker, in his clever description of the south of Ireland, gives 

 characteristic sketches of the peasantry, which every traveller will realize. 

 The Irishman has the curious habit of conversing confidentially with 

 every thing. " Did' you give the horses a feed of oats at the village ?" 

 said one of the tourists to the driver, who had for the last hour found no 

 slight 'difficulty in urging on his wearied hacks. " I did not, your 

 honour," was the reply ; " but sure and they know, I promised them a 

 good one at Limerick." 



A curious example of this understanding between man and horse, was. 

 given in a ride from Cork to Mallow. The tourist had advised a farmer 

 with whom he rode, to quicken his pace, as there were signs of a storm. 

 The man's answer was, " Sure and so I would, for the pleasure of your, 

 honour's company ; but I promised the baste to let him walk ; and more 

 blame to me, if I belie myself to any one, let alone the dumb baste ! 

 For says he to me, c I'm tired, and I'll not go a step faster ; and you 

 can't make me, moreover!' And says I, ' I scorn it; and so take your 

 own way !' " 



I know few things finer in the northern incantations, or in the Fury 

 scenes of antiquity, than some fragments of an Irish legend of the war 

 between Eagan and " Conn of the hundred battles," probably some 

 Scandinavian Nelson. The night before the final struggle, Eagan 

 received the announcement of his destiny from these Irish Volkyriur : 



" When Eagan came back from the council, three witches stood before him, 

 with fiery-looking eyes, and long grizzly hair hanging down over cadaverous 

 countenances. The eyebrows of those fiends were large, rough, and grim, 

 crowinar into each other, and forming two arches of matted bristles. Their. 



3 G 2 



