244 A YEAR OF LIBERTY ; OE, 



Donegal lies at tlie head of a quiet estuary, decked with grassy 

 shores, each abrupt swell being green as an emerald. At low water 

 the channel is nearly dry, but at the top of the flood the tide flows 

 above the bridge nearly up to the old Castle. Five-sixths of the 

 town lie on the south bank of the Esk, whilst a long, straggling 

 row of buildings on the opposite side, lovingly follows the curva- 

 tures of the clear and flashing river. Here, "out of town," stands 



a house of comfortable aspect belonging to Mrs. S , with whom, 



as on two former occasions, we have cast in our lot. Now, small 

 Irish towns are not generally pleasant places in which to dwell. 

 Neither sights, sounds, nor scents are what a traveller would select ; 

 so, like prudent people, we preferred the circumference to the centre. 

 By doing so on the present occasion we secured three or four 

 advantages, being within twenty feet of the river, in imme- 

 diate proximity to the most beautiful ruin in Ireland, on the 

 high road to Lough Esk, and in sweet air from morning till 

 night. 



There was, however, one drawback to our felicity. On the oppo- 

 site side of the stream stood ''O'Donnell's Castle," a very charming 

 specimen of a mediaeval dwelling-house, sufficiently ruinous to be 

 picturesque, yet sufficiently intelligible to inform us how the great 

 chieftain lived when at home. Never were walls more luxuriantly 

 draped with ivy, and never was such tapestry so thickly studded 

 with jackdaws. Had our lively and garrulous neighbours got out of 

 bed at a reasonable hour I should have made no complaint ; had 

 they risen with the sun I might have been silent ; but their conduct 

 was far worse than this, for I verily believe they talked in their 

 sleep. During my sojourns on the margin of the Esk I have been 

 up at all hours, and could swear that at such times I invariably 

 heard some members of the colony either mumbling to themselves 

 or holding forth to their friends, the harangue uniformly producing 

 a wild outbreak of popular fury. 



A short distance below the bridge stood the ruins of a fine old 

 religious house, commanding a pleasant view down the quiet estuary. 

 Here, on many an "impracticable day," I have sat in the shade 



