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hard case it was an act of oppression-and the poor sufferers united in resisting it. This, however, was quite useless. The law was against them; and a day was fixed for receiving payment, or carrying off the stock of those who were not prepared to settle. The day came-the collector went his rounds, attended by a strong party of police, commanded by young Burke, the seducer of Mary Russell they went from farm to farm; and, as few of the poor people were prepared, the cow or the pig was at once driven away. They came to the dwelling of Russell; he was out at the moment. His wife offered them a part of the money, begging of the collector to accept it, with a promise of paying the balance in two days. The cow must travel, cried Burke, with a savage sneer; the little Kerry cow.'

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Poor Catherine heard this with a heavy heart. Her children were just recovering from the measles, and without the milk of this little cow they must perish; nothing, however, could be done the cow was driven off with the others-and, when William returned home, he found his wife weeping in hopeless misery over her sickly children. She told him all that had passed, and he rushed at once from the house. The people in the mean time had collected in great numbers; they were hastily armed, and bent upon rescuing their cattle. William joined the crowd, and they proceeded at the moment in pursuit of the police. They overtook them near the village of Monabeg, and called on them in a quiet way to give up their booty. The police knew not

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how to act; the country people were nearly five to one, and their number appeared still to increase. A few shots were fired over their heads, to try to intimidate them; but this only made them press on the closer. At this moment Burke, who stood with a pistol in his right hand, called out to Russell to come on.' The latter was armed merely with a stick; this made Burke the more confident.

'Come, Russell,' said he,' why do you not advance? Bring your valiant troops to the charge, until we pepper them a little. Why are you so cowardly? Why, man, your sister had more spunk in her. Eh! Billy, she was not backward for her age.'

Poor Russell could bear no morehe rushed forward-and, dashing the pistol from the hand of Burke, he, with one blow, felled him to the earth: -the blow was repeated-it fell upon the head of the seducer, and he never moved after it. The police were attacked on all sides; and, after a terrible struggle, were routed, and the cattle carried off. Some of the country folks were badly wounded, but no life was lost except the one.

The slavish journals of the day rung with reports of this abominable outrage:'-the unprovoked aggression' the 'savage and ferocious attack'

the

cold-blooded murder'-the amiable victim'-and all the other pet terms, were brought regularly into requisition. As to William Russell-need we pause to say what was his fate? He was taken-tried-condemned-and, finally, executed. In the eyes of some he appeared a mere murderer; but the heart of many a suffering one acquitted him.

THE WOODCUTTER AND DEATH.

From the French of Boileau.

His bundle of sticks a poor woodcutter found
Too much for a back over-burdened with years;
And, flinging the faggot with pain on the ground,
For Death, in its stead, he petitioned with tears:

Ay, rather than heap it again on his load

Of

age and of aches he would die on the road.

Though a hundred times called, yet, unmoved by his tears,
His deathship was lazy or loth to attend;

When, quite unexpected, at length he appears,

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Complacently asking, What wouldst thou, good friend?'-Who I?'- Yes; thou calledst, friend. What dost thou lack?' Oh! nothing-but just to put this on my back.'

New Ross.

W. G.

SUPERSTITIONS OF THE IRISH PEASANTRY.—NO. IX.

ALLHALLOW EVE.

THE last day of October, whatever the Almanacks may say to the contrary, is, with the Irish peasantry, the conclusion of autumn. None but a sloven would have potatoes to pit, stacks to thatch, or hay to draw home, after this time; and, as the Paddies, like all the children of Genius, are a procrastinating race, the Eve of Allhallows is generally a busy day. They seldom think of doing this week what may be done the next; and hence the bustle and activity which characterize the last day of October throughout the South of Ireland. Thus the feast of the harvest home' always takes place on an evening devoted to divination; for why should not the Irish rustics have a peep into futurity as well as their betters? Being no great adepts in the theories of Lavater and Spurzheim, instead of examining the lumps or physiognomy of their sweethearts, they resort to what they consider more infallible interpreters to ascertain the disposition of their future partners; or, what is of more consequence, perhaps, to discover whether the object of their choice is decreed to bless their arms. Things of this nature can only be done on the Eve of Allhallows. Is it any wonder, therefore, that on such

a night boys and girls are willing to draw aside the opake veil which conceals the future from mortal eyes?

Some years since, when people had more faith than at present in sowing hemp-seed backwards, the kitchen of a cozy farmer, not far from Kilkenny, was filled with servants, followers, dependents, and neighbours. They had just finished digging the potatoes, and yet felt as little fatigued as if they had only returned from chapel on a Sunday. The monarch of the house was seated in his antiquated chair, which always stood in the corner; and his wife and daughters were busy preparing the kalecanon, which kept hissing beneath two half hundred weights, in a large pot on the fire. People may talk of Irish misery and wretchedness; but, phsaw! in what farmer's house are either of these ever found? Not in that of Ned Kavanagh's, any how; for the carcasses of half a dozen pigs lined his ample chimney. Milk was so plenty that the hogs were fed with it; and so little was thought of potatoes, that Ned would not allow his horses to eat them, unless they had been boiled. On this night there were lashings gulhore of every thing; the kalecanont was moistened with half

* General Vallancy, speaking of Allhallow Eve, says, On the Oidhche Shamlina, or vigil of Saniam, the peasants of Ireland assemble with sticks and clubs, going from house to house, collecting money, bread-cake, butter, cheese, eggs, &c. &c. for the feast, repeating verses in honour of the solemnity, demanding preparations for the festival in the name of St. Columb Kill, desiring them to lay aside the fatted calf, and to bring forth the black sheep. The good women are employed in making the griddle cake and candles: these last are sent from house to house in the vicinity, and are lighted up on the (Saman) next day, before which they pray, or are supposed to pray, for the departed soul of the donor. Every house abounds in the best viands they can afford. Apples and nuts are devoured in abundance; the nut-shells are burnt, and from the ashes many strange things are foretold. Cabbages are torn up by the root. Hemp-seed is sown by the maidens, and they believe that, if they look, they will see the apparition of the man intended for their future spouse. They hang a shift before the fire, on the close of the feast, and sit up all night, concealed in a corner of the room, convinced that his apparition will come down the chimney and turn the shift. They throw a ball of yarn out of the window, and wind it ont he reel within, convinced that if they repeat the Pater Noster backwards, and look at the ball of yarn without, they will then also see his sith, or apparition. They dip for apples in a tub of water, and endeavour to bring one up in their mouth. They suspend a cord with a cross stick, with apples at one point, and candles lighted at the other; and endeavour to catch the apple, while it is in a circular motion, in the mouth. These and many other superstitious ceremonies, the remains of Druidism, are observed on this holiday, which will never be eradicated while the name of Saman is permitted to

remain.'

This is called Callcannon by the peasantry: it is made of potatoes, cabbage, carrots, parsnips, and turnips, all boiled and blended together.

a firkin of butter; and the whiskey punch was handed about in wooden noggins. Opportunely enough a piper made his appearance just as the house had been swept, and a jig or two was danced; but this was a night sacred to other purposes, and, accordingly, the boys began to prepare other pastimes.

The long-concealed apples were brought from the hay-rick; and a large tub of water being placed in the middle of the floor, the largest apple was thrown in, and became the property of whoever could catch it in his mouth. Loud and lengthened were the peals of laughter which followed each successive ducking; for the prize was to be obtained only by getting it between the teeth and the bottom of the tub, as hands were prohibited from being used.

After some time this sport gave way to another. A stick was suspended by the middle, a lighted candle fastened to one end, an apple to the other. The machine was then twirled round, and the most dexterous were challenged to catch the apple with their mouth. In this attempt many eyebrows were singed, many lips greased, and many noses burnt. Such misfortunes only provoked laughter at the expense of the sufferer; and, when all had in vain endeavoured to secure the prize, attention was called off to another trick.

A plank was nicely balanced on a form, an apple placed on one end, and a tub of water placed under it. Whoever mounted this plank and seized the fruit with his mouth, was allowed to eat it. As they knew but little about the centre of gravity, a ducking was generally the reward of the enter prise; and, of course, loud laughter followed.

Many similar sports succeeded; and these in turn gave way to another species of amusement. The company formed a circle round the fire, and whoever doubted the sincerity of their lovers placed two nuts, side by side, on the hottest part of the hearthstone. If they burnt without stirring, it was a proof of their fidelity; but, if either of them flew off, the reverse was inferred. The parties subject to this ordeal need not be present; and, on this night, there were few young

people in the country whose fidelity had not been put to the test.

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'Och musha,' said Ned, after a fit of laughing, I'm sick of such nonsense. When I was a boy, by the livens, we had other sport; something that would try a fellow's mettle. What think you, Biddy Brady, of going down to the ould lime-kiln at the bottom of the boughareen, in the stone field, and throwing in your ball of thread, and then axen, Who houlds my bottom of yarn?"

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Troth, masther honny,' replied Biddy, I wouldn't do that this blessed night for all the king's dominions for sure, ent the good people allowed to do all the mischief in their power at twelve o'clock to-night?'

Faith and that's true, Biddy agrah,' said the granny in the corner, for its a murdhering bad thing to be doen foolish tricks on All Saints Eve, when people ought to be prayen for their poor sinful sowls, or the sowls of those who are gone before 'em. It's now, let me see, three-and-thirty years since Father Mogue, Lord be marciful to his sowl in glory, preached a most beautiful sarmon on the death of Molly Meyler, who died from seeing the devil, Christ save us! on All Holland Eve.'

The devil! How was that?' asked twenty voices, the company at the same time drawing closer to the fire.

'Tis a sad and a sorrowful story,' replied the old woman, • but fakes not a bit o' myself but forgets the greater part of it. All I know is, that Molly lived in the house where Johnny Walsh lives now, and was a brave, clean, hearty girl. Like most thackeens, who don't know when they are well off, she thought it should never be day wid her until she got married, and so she should try on All Saints' Eve who her husband was to be. She went alone by herself to the kiln, and threw in her ball of thread, holding the end of it in her hand. She began to wind and wind, and thought, as no one held it, that she would never get married. But begad, at length and at long run, she felt some one pulling against her. "Who houlds my bottom of yarn?"? axed Molly; and she was answered by a loud laugh. "Ah!" said she,

Johnny Farrell, is that you?" quite delighted, bekase Johnny was an ould sort of sweetheart of hers. But it wasn't Johnny, nether; for then there was another laugh.

"Come out o' that you, spalpéen you," said Molly, "and don't be frightening a body with your laughing, as if you had got a mare's nest." The word wasn't well out of her mouth, when, cross o' Christ about us! the ould boy himself stood right forenent her, grinning as if he would have eaten her. She screeched like a Banshee; and run home as fast as her legs would carry her, took to her bed, and never come alive out of it. So you see what a dangerous thing it is to be doen such things.'

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'The devil burn me,' said Ned, if I ever liked sowen hemp-seed at all at all; but where's the harm in a body pullen cabbage, or winnowen corn, or?'

Oh, God bless you, man!' interrupted a beggar-woman, who had taken her seat on the settle, don't be afther sayen any thing about winnowen corn; for sure Peter Purcell's woman, of Gurcheennimoge-and a froughoolough women she was-and a good body to give a trencher of meal to a poor traveller-lost her life that way.'

'How was that?' inquired several persons present.

Why you must know,' proceeded the old woman, that as the boys and girls, on an All Holland Eve, were laughen and sporten, may be as you are now doen, one o' 'em says, "I'll go into the barn and winnow some corn, and try if I shan't see the man to whom I am to be married." Wudout more ado, out she goes, as nimble as a cricket, opens the barn door, and the haggard door, takes a riddleful of corn, and begins to winnow it;

but, before she had half done, a man steps in and takes the riddle out of her hands. Who should he be the exact image of but Peter Purcell himself, her own master? and in she runs and says, "Musha masther, why did'nt you let me finish my winnowen?" "Me?" says Peter; "arrah, you foolish thackeen, I didn't stir out of this corner since you went out." Every other body in the house said the same; and, at last, the girl went out again. The same person came once more-took the riddle out of her hand-and she still thought it was her master; and, though they all swore it wasn't, she would not believe 'em. "No, no," said she, "don't be afther thinken to frighten me; for sure I know my own masther, at any rate. Hadn't he on his own blue big coat, his grey stockens, and the ould caubeen, which he wears when he is mending his brogues, or doen any thing else by the fire? and didn't I see his face too?"

At this they all laughed; but Peter's wife held down her head, and looked very sorrowful, sure enough, as well she might; for she knew she should die. The will o' God be done," said she; "I am a dead woman before this night twelvemonth; and my own servant girl will be the mistress of my house, and the mother of my childer: but, Anty (that was the girl's name), do you be kind to these little ones, and Heaven will be your bed. ' Peter strived to laugh; but, faith, his wife spoke nothen but God's truth; for, in six months after, I ate the bread which was given away at her birn; and, soon after, as God wud have it, Anty got married to Peter.'

'God bless us all!' said the granny, what a strange thing! and how like what happened to a cousin of mine. His name was Andy Murphy, and he lived with his father at CromIchtown. They had the farm for little or nothen; but, as they were no good to manage it, they were always striven and striven, and never could be out of debt. The women were mere slameens; and so every thing in the house was filthafotiha,-and threena helha,-upside down. As the ould cock crows, the young one larns; and, faith, Andy was his daddy's son

from head to foot-a lazy little goodfor-nothen garsoon-God forgive him his sins-and would never do any thing for his own good. He was in every mischief in the country; and one saint's eve he was playen his pranks. He took three pewter platters from off the dresser, filled one with meal, another with ashes, and a third with earth. He then went out, tied a handkerchief over his eyeslike one goen to play boder-boodeen -and walked in on his hands and feet. A person in the mean time had placed the platters on the floor, in a way anoent to Andy, who was to grope them out. If he put his hand first into the one wud the meal, he was to be a wealthy man; if in the one wud the ashes, he was to live long but, if in the one wud the earth, he was to die soon. Poor Audy, as bad luck wud have it, popped his hand into the clay, and then turned as pale as a cloth. In less than three months afterwards he was killed in a fight betune the Murphys and the Reynolds's.'

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By the time the old woman had concluded, it was discovered that the apples were all eaten. Let us go and steal some,' said one of the boys. I know a hay-rick in which a bushelful are hid.'

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Away wid you,' said Paddy Moran, drawing his stool closer to the fire; but the Puck take me if I go.'

Oh! that's true, Paddy,' said Ned, 'didn't you see the PHOOKA one night?'

Troth you may sing that,' replied Paddy, and myself never went through so much since or before. I often tould all about it; and, if you all like, I'll tell it again.'

The company immediately assented; and Paddy went on with his adventure with the mischievous

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said I was blind drunk; but, troth, I wasn't more than half gone. Well, out I went, and promised to be back in a giffy. Goen over the garden stile my foot slipt, and I tumbled head over heels, but soon got up again, and got into the little meadow leaden down to the river. I crossed the ford; but, when in the stubble field, what should I see runnen right forenent me, but a great,big,red,mad, bull, with fire flaming from his eyes, mouth, and nose! You may be sure I cried "War hawk!" and took to my heels. I run for the bare life; but still the bull was red-hot afther me; and every minute I thought he would stick his horns in me. I tried all I could to get away from him, but it was of no manner of use, for still he was close behind me. At length I ran to the top of Billy Ryan's limekiln; but, faith, here I was near hand being done for; the bull made no more ado than jumped up afther me; and, while you'd be "Be easy, pitched me over into the bushes. ́ ́I thought sure that my back was fairly broke; and I wonder now that it wasn't. By-and-by, a man up to me, and says, "Musha, bad luck to you, Paddy Moran; and is it there you are this hour of the night, and no body wid you but your own four bones?"

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“Faith, and sure enough it is myself," said I, "and who else would you have me?" I said this in a bit of a flurry, bekase I didn't know the fellow, at all at all.

"Árrah! be easy now, Paddy aghud," says he, "and don't be afther getten angry for nothen; for sure I meaned no harm. But why don't you get up out of that?"

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'I tried to get up, so I did, and cudn't; kase why? my back was broke. "Christ save us!" says I, "I'm fairly murdhered outright, so I am."

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Musha, no you're not," says he "let me only help you;" and, so sayen, he grips me by the middle, and hoists me like a bag of bran upon his shoulders.

"What are you goen to do?"

says I.

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Nothen," says he. "Oh! but you are," says I.

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Whist, you gomulah," says he,

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