'28 AN EVENING AT BELLEEK. 



whole character is suddenly and entirely 

 changed ; all is roar, and rush, and ripple, 

 and sparkle, and the stream dashes away 

 from pool to rapid, and from rapid to pool, 

 till, in the town of Bally shannon, it thunders 

 over a dark hlack ledge of limestone rock, 

 and is lost in the deep salt sea below. 



Just at the point where this change takes 

 place is situated the little village of Belleek, 

 renowned in Cromwell's wars, and still pro- 

 tected by a small pentagonal star fort, which 

 he built here to protect the passage of the 

 river. 



Belleek is neither cleaner, nor tidier, nor 

 less ruinous than Irish villages in general, 

 but it is much more pretty and picturesque 

 than most of them. The roaring river, here 

 compressed within a very narrow channel, 

 is spanned by one of those pointed bridges 

 which our ancestors were so fond of, beautiful 

 to look at, but giving its passengers the full 

 benefit of a supplementary and particularly 

 steep artificial hill. Full in front are the 

 falls of Rose Isle, and above them the pretty 

 little rocky islet itself, with its half-dozen 

 feathery ash-trees, and its ivy-covered fish- 

 ing-lodge. 



