Q,6 MEMORIES OF GLEX.AUGH. 



" Take a look-out, Will, and see if there is 

 any chance of the day mending.' 7 



What a prospect ! The ground sodden and 

 black, the rain clouds in ragged skirts trailing 

 across the valley, no sign of man or cattle or 

 life of any sort upon the desolate dismal land- 

 scape. I turn in with a sense of comfort to 

 the snug parlour, and, for want of a job, 

 endeavour to cobble together the torn meshes 

 of a game-bag. My uncle is so absorbed just 

 now with the dressing of a Limerick hook, 

 that to interrupt him would be trying even to 

 his excellent temper. Shall I, for a change, 

 shift my quarters to the kitchen ? Molly 

 places a stool for me by the ample fireplace. 

 Jack Sullivan sits opposite plucking a wild- 

 duck. Every moment a heavy drop of rain 

 splashes from the cavern of the chimney upon 

 the glowing turf. There is a battered relict of 

 the turnspit race fast asleep on the ground. 

 The ceiling is hung with huge slabs of bacon, 

 and indeed we are well provisioned against a 

 siege at the Wisp. Some such thought as 

 this suggests my asking Mr. Sullivan what he 

 thinks of the Fenian movement. 



