tenants himself that, I hope, he'll not forget," said one. "Sure the God of heaven, if he lifts the dews from the earth, sends it back again in rain; but everything is took from poor Paddy, and nothing returned!" "Lift me to the air, Gracy," whispered the dying boy to his sister: "I know I'll be waked soon; but let poor Snap have the butter and gingerbread you promised me, for I never prached my sarmon since, to vex you, Gracy." The hardest and the sternest wept when they saw the poor faithful dog lick his master's purple lips, and saw that master's dying efforts to push from him the thing he certainly loved best in the world, murmuring, "Maybe 'twould hurt him-maybe 'twould hurt him!" "Dread and fearful was the oath of exterminating vengeance which Black Burnett swore against the stranger Lawler and his brother, over the body of the dead idiot; but it was not needed-the one paid the forfeit of his crime, and was executed within a month after its committal-the other disappeared, and was never again seen or heard of in the country. Black Burnett abandoned whiskey, and grew rich; but never could bear to hear of people finding money under flat stones. Matthew and Grace inhabit the dwelling still, though it is far more comfortable than it was; and Snap's descendant cannot find a hole in the door-post to poke his nose through, though he is quite as cross and curious as his grandsire. RUINS. PART I. "Now, with all deference, it is suggested that there are monuments of antiquity in Ireland worthy of inspection; there is scenery on which the eye may rest with delight. We have woods, and waters, and glens, and mountains abundantly picturesque, and sufficient to call forth the exertion of the pen and pencil in their description." So writes Mr. Cæsar Otway; and his statement may be corroborated by all who have visited the country. There are monuments of antiquity worthy of inspection; there is scenery on which the eye may rest with delight; and, withal, there are people, warm, kindly, and affectionate, to be |