162 LAKE OF BEER IN IRELAND. 



their houses ; witli its state in 1608, when only 37 of 

 them could or would afford to pay for such an accom- 

 modation. 



So much, then, for the first establishment of the 

 Leat in its important office in this town. The ma- 

 terials lie before me for the account of its further 

 changes and applications ; but this is as much as 

 your readers will have patience to get through at one 

 sitting. 



LAKE OF BEER IN IRELAND. 



I WAS desirous, in order to avoid a distance of forty miles, 

 to get over the mountain chain that divides Cork from Kerry — 

 and over which there is a pass not very practicable for horsemen : 

 but for a wheel-carriage, there were twenty opinions for and 

 against its feasibility. Come, says my hospitable entertainer at 

 GlengarifF Castle, never fear your gig, I will send a gang of men 

 that shall help to push it up the mountain, and when it gets to 

 the top, what with ropes and hand-spikes they can let it down 

 into Kerry. Accordingly I accepted of his offer, and set out on 

 the first of April to pass over the mountains. Some as I set out 

 seemed to look as if I were about to make an April fool of my- 

 self ; but out I set, accompanied by my escort of men, and by 

 two dear friends, who determined not to desert me until I was 

 deposited in the kingdom of Kerry. I would run the risk of 

 wrecking the best gig that ever rolled, to see the interior of this 

 sublime mountain scene. 



So taking leave, reluctantly enough, of Glengariff, out I set 

 with my escort, and commenced the ascent of tiie mountain chain, 

 and we had not proceeded far along the road, or rather horse-path, 

 until the necessity of precaution, and of abundant help of men 

 became evident. Here a broken bridge, over whose ruins my 

 fragile vehicle was to be lifted — there a quagmire across the road, 

 over which my poor maie was obliged to jump upon stepping 

 stones ; indeed tlie poor experienced animal, who had drawn me 

 many a thousand miles, and who, if she could hold a pen with 

 her hoof, might be able to write as good a tour as her master — 

 she, as passing over these uncouth places, with her ears thrown 

 back, and a very hesitating sort of countenance, now and then 



