FOR ABOUT three years before the period of which I write, the village Findramore, and the parish in which it lay, were without a teacher. Mat’s predecessor was a James Garraghty, a lame young man, the son of a widow, whose husband lost his life in attempting to extinguish a fire that broke out in the dwelling-house of Squire Johnston, a neighbouring magistrate. The son was a boy at the time of this disaster, and the Squire, as some compensation for the loss of his father’s life in his service, had him educated at his own expense; that is to say, he gave the master who taught in the village orders to educate him gratuitously, on the condition of being horsewhipped out of the parish, if he refused. As soon as he considered himself qualified to teach, he opened a school in the village on his own account, where he taught until his death, which happened in less than a year after the commencement of his little seminary. The children had assembled in his mother’s cabin; but as she did not long survive the son, this, which was at best a very miserable residence, soon tottered to the ground. The roof and thatch were burned for firing, the mud gables fell in, and were soon overgrown with grass, nettles, and docks; and nothing remained but about a foot or two of the little clay side-walls, which presented, when associated with the calamitous fate of their inoffensive inmates, rather a touching image of ruin upon a small scale. Garraghty had been attentive to his little pupils, and his instructions were sufficient to give them a relish for education - a circumstance which did not escape the observation of their parents, who duly appreciated it. His death, however, deprived them of this advantage; and as schoolmasters, under the old system, were always at a premium, it so happened, that for three years afterwards, none of that class presented himself to their acceptance. Many a trial had been made, and many a sly offer held out, as a lure to the neighbouring teachers, but they did not take; for although the country was densely inhabited, yet it was remarked that no schoolmaster ever “thruv” in the neighbourhood of Findramore. The place, in fact had got a bad name. Garraghty died, it was thought of poverty, a disease to which the Findramore school masters had been always known to be subject. His predecessor, too, was hanged, along with two others, for burning the house of an “Aagint.” Then the Findramore boys were not easily dealt with, having an ugly habit of involving their unlucky teachers in those quarrels which they kept up with the Ballyscanlan boys, a fighting clan that lived at the foot of the mountains above them. These two factions, when they met, whether at fair or market, wake or wedding, could never part without carrying home on each side a dozen or two of bloody coxcombs. For these reasons, the parish of Aughindrum had for a few years been afflicted with an extraordinary dearth of knowledge; the only literary establishment which flourished in it being a parochial institution, which, however excellent in design, yet, like too many establishments of the same nature, it degenerated into a source of knowledge, morals, and education, exceedingly dry and unproductive to every person except the master, who was enabled by his honest industry to make a provision for his family absolutely surprising, when we consider the moderate nature of his ostensible income. It was in fact like a well dried up, to which scarcely any one ever thinks of going for water
 Such a state of things, however, couldn’t last long. The youth of Findramore were parched for want of the dew of knowledge; and their parents and grown brethren met one Saturday evening in Barny Brady’s sheebeen-house, to take into consideration the best means for procuring a resident schoolmaster for the village and neighbourhood. It was a difficult point, and required great dexterity of management to enable them to devise any effectual remedy for the evil which they felt. There were present at this council, Tim Dolan, the senior of the village, and his three sons, Jem Coogan, Brian Murphy, Paddy Delany, Owen Roe O’Neil, Jack Traynor, and Andy Connell, with five or six others, whom it is not necessary to enumerate.
 “Bring us in a quart, Barny;” said Dolan to Brady, whom on this occasion we must designate as the host”, and let it be rale hathen.” “
 What do ye mane, Tim?” replied the host.
 “I mane”, continued Dolan”, stuff that was never christened, man alive.”
 “Thin I’ll bring you the same as Father Maguire got last night on his way home, afther anointin’ ould Katty Duffy”, replied Dolan. “I’m sure, whatever I might be afther givin’ to strangers, Tim, I’d be long sorry to give yees any thing but the right sort.”
 “That’s a gay man, Barny”, said Traynor; “but off wid you like shot, an’ let us get it under our tooth first, an’ then we’ll tell you more about it. - A big rogue is the same Barny”, he added, after Brady had gone to bring in the poteen”, an’ never sells a dhrop that’s not wan whiskey and five wathers.”
 “But he couldn’t expose it on you, Jack”, observed Connell; “you’re too ould a hand about the pot for that. Warn’t you in the mountains last week?”
 “Ay; but the curse of Cromwell upon that thief of a gauger, Simpson - himself and a pack o’ redcoats surrounded us when we war beginnin’ to double, and the purtiest runnin’ that ever you seen was lost; for you see, before you could cross yourself, we had the bottoms knocked clane out of the vessels; so that the villains didn’t get a hole in our coats, as they thought they would.”
 “I tell you”, observed O’Neil”, there’s a bad pill somewhere about us.”
 “Ay is there, Owen”, replied Traynor; “ and what is more, I don’t think he’s a hundher moils from the place we’re sittin’ in.”
 “Faith, may be so, Jack”, returned the other.
 “I’d never give in to that”, said Murphy. “’Tis Barny Brady that would never turn informer - the same thing isn’t in him, nor in any of his breed; there’s not a man in the parish I’d thrust sooner.”
 “I’d jist thrust him”, replied Traynor”, as far as I could throw a cow by the tail. Arrah, what’s the rason that the gauger never looks next or near his place, an’ it’s well known that he sells poteen widout a license, though he goes past his door wanst a week?”
 “What the h - is keeping him, at all?” enquired one of Dolan’s sons.
 “Look at him”, said Traynor”, comin’ in out of the garden; how much afeard he is! keepin’ the whiskey in a phatie ridge - an’ I’d kiss the book that he brought that bottle out in his pocket, instead of diggin’ it up out o’ the garden.”
 Whatever Brady’s usual habits of christening his poteen might have been, that which he now placed before them was good. He laid the bottle on a little deal table with cross legs, and along with it a small drinking glass fixed in a bit of flat circular wood, as a substitute for the original bottom, which had been broken. They now entered upon the point in question, without further delay.
 “Come, Tim”, said Coogan”, you’re the ouldest man, and must spake first.”
 “Throth, man”, replied Dolan”, beggin’ your pardon, I’ll dhrink first - shud-urth, your sowl; success, boys - glory to ourselves, and confusion to the Scanlan boys, any way.”
 “And maybe”, observed Connell”, ’tis we that didn’t lick them well in the last fair - they’re not able to meet the Findramore birds, even on their own walk.”
 “Well, boys”, said Delany”, about the masther? Our childer will grow up like bullockeens, widout knowing a hap’orth; and larning, you see, is a burdyen that’s asy carried.”
 “Ay”, observed O’Neil”, as Solvesther Maguire, the poet, used to say -
 “’Labour for larnin’ before you grow ould, For larnin’ is betther nor riches or gould - Riches an’ gould they may vanquish away, But larnin’ alone it will never decay.’”
 “Success, Owen! Why, you might put down the pot and warm an air to it”, said Murphy.
 “Well, boys, are we all safe?” asked Traynor.
 “Safe!” said old Dolan. “Arrah, what are you talkin’ about? Sure ’tisn’t of that same spalpeen of a gauger that we’d be afraid?”
 During this observation, young Dolan pressed Traynor’s foot under the table, and they both went out for about five minutes.
 “Father”, said the son, when he and Traynor re-entered the room, you’re a wantin’ home.”
 “Who wants me, Larry, a-vick ?” said the father.
 The son immediately whispered him for a moment, when the old man instantly rose, got his hat, and, after drinking another bumper of the poteen, departed.
 “’Twas hardly worth while”, said Delany; “the ould fellow’s mettle to the back-bone, an’ would never show the garran-bawn, at any rate, even if he knew all about it.” “Bad end to the syllable I’d let the same ould cock hears” said the son; “the devil trust any man that didn’t switch the primmer for it, though he is my father; but now, boys, that the coast’s clear, and all safe - where will we get a schoolmasther? Mat Kavanagh won’t budge from the Scanlan boys, even if we war to put our hands undher his feet; and small blame to him, when he heads them - sure, you would not expect him to be a traithur to his own?”
 “Faith, the gorsoons is in a bad state”, said Murphy”, but, boys, where will we get a man that’s up? Why, I know ’tis betther to have any body nor be without one; but we might kill two birds wid one stone - if we could get a masther that would carry articles, an’ swear in the boys, from time to time - an’ between ourselves, if there’s any danger of the hemp, we may as well lay it upon strange shouldhers.”
 “Ay, bud since Corrigan swung for the Aagint”’ replied Delany”, they’re a little modest in havin’ act or part wid us; but the best plan is to get an advartisment wrote out, an’ have it posted on the chapel door.”
 This hint was debated with much earnestness; but, as they were really anxious to have a master - in the first place, for the simple purpose of educating their children; and in the next, for filling the situation of director and regulator of their illegal Ribbon meetings - they determined on penning an advertisement, according to the suggestion of Delany. After drinking another bottle, and amusing themselves with some further chat, one of the Dolans undertook to draw up the advertisement, which ran as follows:- “ADVARTAISMENT.

Notes to Schoolmasthers, and to all whom it may consarn.

“WANTED”, For the nabourhud and vircinity of the Townland of Findramore, In the Parish of Aughindrum, in the Barony of Lisnamoghry, County of Sligo, Province of Connaught, Ireland.

“To SCHOOLMASTHERS

“Take Notes, - That any Schoolmasther who understands Spellin’ grammatically - Readin’ and Writin’, in the raal way, accordin’ to the Dixonary - Arithmatick, that is to say, the five common rules, namely, simple addition, subtraction, multiplication, and division - and addition, subtraction, multiplication, and division, of Dives’s denominations. Also reduction up and down - cross multiplication of coin - the Rule of Three direck - the Rule of Three in verse - the double Rule of Three - Frackshins taught according to the vulgar and decimatin’ method; and must be well practised to tache the Findramore boys how to manage the Scuffle.

“N. B. He must be well grounded in that. Practis, discount, and Rebatin’. N. B. Must be well grounded in that also.

“Tret and Tare - Fellowship - Allegation - Barther - Rates per scent - Intherest - Exchange - Prophet in loss - the Square Root - the Kibe Root - Hippothenuse - Arithmatical and Gommetrical Purgation - Compound Intherest - Loggerheadisms - Questions for Exercise, and the Coxendix to Algibbra. He must also know Jommithry accordin’ to Grunther’s scale - the Castigation of the Klipsticks - Surveying and the use of the Jacob-staff.

“N. B. Would get a good dale of surveyin’ to do in the vircinity of Findramore, particularly in Conacre-time. If he knew the use of the globe, it would be an accusation. He must also understand the Three Sets of Book-keeping, by single and double entry, particularly Loftus & Company of Paris, their Account of Cash and Company. And above all things, he must know how to tache the Sarvin’ of Mass in Latin, and be able to read Docthor Gallaher’s Irish Sarmints, and explain Kolumbkill’s and Pastorini’s Prophecies.

“N. B. If he understands Cudgel-fencin’, it would be an accusation also - but mustn’t tache us wid a staff that bends in the middle, bekase it breaks one’s head across the guard. Any schoolmasther capacious an’ collified to instruct in the above-mintioned branches, would get a good school in the townland of Findramore and its vircinity, be well fed, an’ get the hoith o’ good livin’ among the farmers, an’ would be ped -

“For Book-keepin’, the three sets, a ginny and half. For Gommethry, &c. half a ginny a quarther. Arithmatic, aight and three-hapuns. Readin’, Writin’, &c. six Hogs. “Given under our hands, this 32d of June, 18004 “LARRY DOLAN. “DICK DOLAN, his X mark. “JEM COOGAN, his X mark. “BRINE MURPHEY. “PADDY DELANY, his X mark. “JACK TRAYNOR. “ANDY CONNELL. “OWEN ROE O’NEIL, his X mark.”

“N.B. By makin’ arly application to any of the undhermintioned, , he will hear of further particklers; and if they find that he will shoot them, he may expect the best o’ thratement, an’ be well fed among the farmers.

“N.B. Would get also a good night-school among the vircinity.”

Having penned the above advertisement, it was carefully posted early the next morning on the Chapel door, with an expectation on the part of the patrons, that it would not be wholly fruitless. The next week, however, passed without an application - the second also - and the third produced the same result; nor was there the slightest prospect of a schoolmaster being blown by any wind to the lovers of learning at Findramore. In the mean time, the Ballyscanlan boys took care to keep up the ill-natured prejudice which had been circulated concerning the fatality that uniformly attended such schoolmasters as settled there; and when this came to the ears of the Findramore folk, it was once more resolved that the advertisement should be again put up, with a clause containing an explanation on that point. The clause ran as follows: -

“N. B. The two last masthers that was hanged out of Findramore, that is, Micky Corrigan, who was hanged for killing the Aagint, and Jem Garraghty, that died of a declension - Jem died in quensequence of ill health, and Micky was hanged contrary to his own wishes; so that it wasn’t either of their faults - as witness our hands this 27th of July.

“DICK Dolan, his X mark”, &c.

This explanation, however, was as fruitless as the original advertisement; and week after week passed over without an offer from a single candidate. The “vircinity” of Findramore and its “nabourhood” seemed devoted to ignorance; and nothing remained except another effort at procuring a master by some more ingenious contrivance. Debate after debate was, consequently, held in Barny Brady’s; and, until a fresh suggestion was made by Delany, the prospect seemed as bad as ever. Delany, at length, fell upon a new plan; and it must be confessed, that it was marked in a peculiar manner by a spirit of originality and enterprize - it being nothing less than a proposal to carry off, by force or stratagem, Mat Kavanagh, who was at the time fixed in the throne of literature among the Ballyscanlan boys, quite unconscious of the honourable translation to the neighbourhood of Findramore which was intended for him. The project, when broached, was certainly a startling one, and drove most of them to a pause, before they were sufficiently collected to give an opinion on its merits.
 “Nothin’, boys, is asier”, said Delany. “There’s to be a patthern in Ballymagowan on next Sathurday - an’ that’s jist half way betune ourselves and the Scanlan boys. Let us musther an’ go there, any how. We can keep an eye on Mat widout much trouble, an’, when opportunity sarves, nick him at wanst, and off wid him clane.”
 “But”, said Traynor”, what would we do wid him when he’d be here? Wouldn’t he cut the first opportunity?”
 “How can he, ye omadhawn, if we put a manwill in our pocket, an’ sware him? But we’ll butther him up when he’s among us; or, by me sowks if it goes to that, force him either to settle wid ourselves, or make himself scarce in the counthry entirely.”
 “Divil a much force it’ill take to keep him, I’m thinkin’”, observed Murphy. “He’ll have three times a betther school here; and if he was wanst settled, I’ll engage he would take to it kindly.”
 “See here, boys”, says Dick Dolan, in a whisper -“if that bloody villain, Brady, isn’t afther standin’ this quarther of an hour, strivin’ to hear what we’re about; but it’s well we didn’t bring up any thing consarnin’ the other business; didn’t I tell yees the desate was in ’im? Look at his shadow on the wall forninst us.”
 “Hould yer tongues, boys”, said Traynor; “jist keep never mindin’, and, by my sowks, I’ll make him sup sorrow for that thrick.”
 “You had betther neither make nor meddle wid him”, observed Delany; “jist put him out o’ that - but don’t raise yer hand to him, or he’ll sarve you as he did Jem Flanagan - put ye three or four months in the Stone Jug.”
 Traynor, however, had gone out while he was speaking, and, in a few minutes dragged in Brady, whom he caught in the very act of eaves-dropping.
 “Jist come in, Brady”, said Traynor, as he dragged him along -“walk in, man alive; sure, and sich an honest man as you are needn’t be afeard of lookin’ his friends in the face! - ho! - an’ by my own sowl, is it a spy we’ve got? and, I suppose, would be an informer, too, if he had heard anything to tell!”
 “What’s the manin’ of this, boys?” exclaimed the others, feigning ignorance - “let the honest man go, Traynor. What do ye hawl him that-a-way for, ye gallis pet?” &
 “Honest!” replied Traynor, -“how very honest he is, the desavin’ villain - to be standin’ at the windy there, wantin’ to overhear the little harmless talk we had.”
 “Come, Traynor”, said Brady, seizing him in his turn by the neck”, take your hands off of me, or, bad fate to me, but I’ll lave ye a mark.”
 Traynor, in his turn, had his hand twisted in Brady’s cravat, which he drew tightly about his neck, until the other got nearly black in the face.
 “Let me go, you villian!” exclaimed Brady”, or, by this blessed night that’s in it, it’ill be worse for you.”
 “Villian! is id?” replied Traynor, making a blow at him, whilst Brady snatchcd at a pen-knife which one of the others had placed on the table, after picking the tobacco out of his pipe - intending either to stab Traynor, or to cut the knot of the cravat by which he was held. The others, however, interfered, and prevented further mischief.
 “Brady”, said Traynor”, you’ll rue this night, if ever a man did, you tracherous informin’ villian. What an honest spy we have among us! - and a short coorse to you!”
 “Oh, hould yer tongue, Traynor”, replied Brady; “I blieve its best known who is both the spy and the informer. The divil a pint of poteen ever you’ll run in this parish, until you clear yourself of bringing the gauger on the Tracey’s, bekase they tuck Mick M’Kew in preference to yourself to run it for them.” Traynor made another attempt to strike him, but was prevented. The rest now interfered; and, in the course of an hour or so an adjustment took place.
 Brady took up the tongs, and swore “by that blessed iron”, that he neither heard nor intended to hear anything they said, and this exculpation was followed by a fresh bottle at his own expense. “You omadhawn”, said he to Traynor”, I was ony puttin’ up a dozen of bottles into the tatch of the house, when you thought I was listenin; and, as a proof of the truth of this, he brought them out and showed them some bottles of poteen, neatly covered up under the thatch.
 Before their separation they finally planned the abduction of Kavanagh from the Patron, on the Saturday following, and after drinking another round went home to their respective dwellings.
 In this speculation, however, they experienced a fresh disappointment; for, ere Saturday arrived, whether in consequence of secret intimation of their intentlon from Brady or some friend, or in compliance with the offer of a better situation, the fact was, that Mat Kavanagh had removed to another school, distant about eighteen miles from Findramore. But they were not to be outdone; a new plan was laid, and in the course of the next week, a dozen of the most enterprising and intrepid of the “boys”, mounted each upon a good horse, went to Mat’s new residence for the express purpose of securing him.
 Perhaps our readers may scarcely believe, that a love of learning was so strong among the inhabitants of Findramore, as to occasion their taking such remarkable steps for establishing a schoolmaster among them, but the country was densely inhabited, the rising population exceedingly numerous, and the out-cry for a schoolmaster amongst the parents of the children loud and importunate. Besides this, the illegal principles of White-boyism were as deeply rooted in that neighbourhood as in others, and the young men stood in need of some person who might regulate their proceedings, keep their registries, preside at and appoint their meetings, and organize, with sufficient skill and precision, not only the vast numbers who had been already enrolled as members, but who were putting forward their claims, day after day, to be admitted as such. God knows it is no wonder that Ireland should be as she is, and as she long has been, when we consider the fact, that those who conducted the education of her peasantry were the most active instruments in disseminating among the rising generations, such pernicious principles as those which characterize this system, so deeply rooted among the people - men, whose moral characters were, with few exceptions, execrable: and nine-tenths of whom held situations of authority in these diabolical associations, The fact, therefore, was, that a double motive stimulated the inhabitants of Findramore in their efforts to procure a master. The old and middle-aged heads of families were actuated by a simple wish, inseparable from Irishmen, to have their children educated; and the young men, not only by a determination to have a properly qualified person to preside at their nightly orgies, but an inclination to improve themselves in reading, writing, and arithmetic. The circumstance I am now relating is one which actually took place; and any man acquainted with the remote parts of Ireland, may have often seen bloody and obstinate quarrels among the peasantry, in vindicating a priority of claim to the local residence of a schoolmaster among them. I could, within my own experience, relate two or three instances of this nature.
 It was one Saturday night in the latter end of the month of May, that a dozen Findramore “boys”, as they were called, set out upon this most singular of all literary speculations, resolved, at whatever risk, to secure the person and effect the permanent bodily presence among them of the redoubtable Mat Kavanagh. Each man was mounted on a horse; and one of them brought a spare steed for the accommodation of the schoolmaster. The caparison of this horse was somewhat remarkable. It consisted of a wooden straddle, such as is used by the peasantry for carrying wicker paniers or creels, which are hung upon two wooden pins, that stood up out of its sides. Under it was a straw mat, to prevent the horse’s back from being stripped by the straddle. On one side of this hung a large creel, and on the other a strong sack, tied round a stone of sufficient weight to balance the empty creel. The night was warm and clear, the moon and stars all threw their mellow light from a serene, unclouded sky, and the repose of nature in the short nights of this delightftul season, resembled that of a young virgin of sixteen - still, light, and glowing. Their way, for the most part of their journey, lay through a solitary mountain-road; and, as they did not undertake the enterprize without a good stock of poteen, their light-hearted songs and choruses awoke the echoes that slept in the mountain glens as they went along. The adventure, it is true, had as much of frolic as of seriousness in it; and merely as the means of a day’s fun for the boys, it was the more eagerly entered into.
 It was about mid-night when they left home and, as they did not wish to arrive at the village to which they were bound, until the morning should be rather advanced, the journey was as slowly performed as possible. Every remarkable object on the way was noticed, and its history, if any particular association was connected with it, minutely detailed, whenever it happened to be known. When the sun rose, many beautiful green spots and hawthorn vallies excited, even from these unpolished and illlterate peasants, warm bursts of admiration at their fragrance and beauty. In some places, the dark flowery heath clothed the mountains to the tops, from which the grey mists, lit by a flood of light, and breaking into masses before the morning breeze, began to descend into the valleys beneath them; whilst the voice of the grouse, the bleating of sheep and lambs, the peeweet of the wheeling lapwing, and the song of the lark, threw life and animation over the previous stillness of the country. Sometimes a shallow river would cross the road, winding off into a valley that was overhung, on one side, by rugged precipices clothed with luxuriant heath and wild ash; whilst, on the other, it was skirted by a long sweep of green sward, skimmed by the twittering swallow, over which lay scattered numbers of sheep, cows, brood mares, and colts - many of them rising and stretching themselves ere they resumed their pasture, leaving the spot on which they lay of a deeper green. Occasionally, too, a sly-looking fox might be seen lurking about a solitary lamb, or brushing over the hills with a fat goose upon his back, retreating to his den among the inaccessible rocks, after having plundered some unsuspecting farmer.
 As they advanced into the skirts of the cultivated country, they met many other beautiful spots of scenery among the upland, considerable portions of which, particularly in long, sloping valleys that faced the morning sun, were covered with hazle and brush wood, where the unceasing and simple notes of the cuckoo were incessantly plied, mingled with the more mellow and varied notes of the thrush and blackbird. Sometimes, the bright summer waterfall seemed, in the rays of the sun, like a column of light, and the springs that issued from the sides of the more distant and lofty mountains shone with a steady, dazzling brightness, on which the eye could scarcely rest. The morning, indeed, was beautiful, the fields in bloom, and every thing cheerful. As the sun rose in the heavens, nature began gradually to awaken into life and happiness; nor was the natural grandeur of a Sabbath summer morning among these piles of magnificent mountains - nor its heartfelt, but more artificial beauty in the cultivated country, lost, even upon the unphilosophical “boys” of Findramore, so true is it, that the appearance of nature will force enjoyment upon the most uncultivated heart.
 When they had arrived within two miles of the little town in which Mat Kavanagh was fixed, they turned off into a deep glen, a little to the left; and, after having seated themselves under a whitethorn which grew on the banks of a rivulet, they began to devise the best immediate measures to be taken.
 “Boys”, said Tim Dolan”, how will we manage now with this thief of a shoolmasther, at all? Come, Jack Traynor, you that’s up to still-house work - escapin’ and carryin’ away stills from gaugers, the bloody villians! - out wid yer spake, till we hear your opinion.”
 “Do ye think, boys”, said Andy Connell”, that we could flatther him to come by fair mains?”
 “Flatther him!” said Traynor; “and, by my sowl, if we fiatther him at all, it must be by the hair o’ the head!”
 “I’ll tell you what it is, boys”, continued Connell, -“I’ll hould a wager, if you lave him to me, I’ll bring him wid his own consint.”
 “No, nor deuce the that you’ll do, nor could do”, replied Traynor; “for, along wid every thing else, he thinks he’s not jist doated on by the Findramore people, being one of the Ballyscanlan tribe - No, no - let two of us go to his place, and purtind that we have other business in the fair of Clansallagh on Monday next, and ax him in to dhrink, for he’ll not refuse that, any how; then, when he’s half tipsey, ax him to convoy us this far; we’ll then meet you here, an’ tell him some palaver or other - sit down again where we are now, and, after making him dead drunk, hoise a big stone in the creel, and Mat in the sack, on the other side, wid his head out, and off wid him; and he will know neither act nor part about it, till we’re at Findramore.”
 Having approved of this project, they pulled out each a substantial complernent of stout wheaten bread, which served, along with the whiskey, for breakfast. The two persons pitched on for decoying Mat were Dolan and Traynor, who accordingly set out, full of glee at the singularity and drollness of their undertaking It is unnecessary to detail the ingenuity with which they went about it - because, in consequence of Kavanagh’s love of drink, very little ingenuity was necessary; but one circumstance came to light which gave them much encouragement, and that was a discovery that Mat by no means relished his situation. In the mean time, those who staid behind in the glen felt their patience begin to flag a little, because of the delay made by the others, who had promised, if possible, to have the schoolmaster in the glen before two o’clock. But the fact was, that Mat, who was far less deficient in hospitality than in learning, brought them into his house, and not only treated them to plenty of whiskey, but made the wife prepare a dinner, for which he detained them, swearing, that except they stopped to partake of it, he would not convoy them to the place appointed. Evening was, therefore, tolerably far advanced when they made their appearance at the glen, in a very equivocal state of sobriety - Mat being by far the steadiest of the three, but still considerably the worse for what he had taken. He was now welcomed by a general huzza; and on his expressing surprise at the appearance of so many of his acquaintances, they pointed to their horses, telling him that they were bound for the fair of Clansallagh, for the purpose of selling them. This was the more probable, as, when a fair occurs in Ireland, it is usual for cattle-dealers, particularly horse-jockeys, to effect sales, and ’show’ their horses on the evening before. Mat now sat down, and was vigorously plied with strong poteen - songs were sung, stories told, and every device resorted to that was calculated to draw out and heighten his sense of enjoyment; nor were their efforts without success; for, in the course of a short time, Mat was free from all earthly care, being incapable of either speaking or standing.
 “Now, boys”, said Dolan”, let us do the thing clane an’ dacent. Let you, Jem Cogan, Brian Murphy, Paddy Delany, and Andy Connell, go back, and tell the wife and two childher a cock-and-a-bull story about Mat - say that he is coming to Findrarnore for good and all, an’ that’ill be truth, you know; and that he ordhered yees to bring her and them after him; and we can come back for the furniture to-morrow.
 A word was enough - they immediately set off; and the others, not wishing that Mat’s wife should witness the mode of his conveyance, proceeded home, for it was now dusk. The plan succeeded admirably; and in a short time the wife and children, mounted behind the “boys” on the horses, were on their way after them to Findramore. The reader is already aware of the plan they had adopted for translating Mat; but, as it was extremely original, I will explain it somewhat more fully. The moment the schoolmaster was intoxicated to the necessary point, that is to say, totally helpless and insensible, they opened the sack and put him in, heels foremost, tying it in such a way about his neck as might prevent his head from getting into it, thus avoiding the danger of suffocation. The sack, with Mat at full length in it, was then fixed to the pin of the straddle, so that he was in an erect posture during the whole journey. A creel was then hung at the other side, in which was placed a large stone, of sufficient weight to preserve an equilibrium; and, to prevent any accident, a droll fellow sat astride behind the straddle, amusing himself and the rest by breaking jokes upon the novelty of Mat’s situation.
 “Well, Mat, ma bouchal, how duv ye like your sitivation? I believe, for all your larnin’, the Findramore boys have sacked you at last?”
 “Ay”, exclaimed another”, he is sacked at last, in spite of his Matthew-maticks.”
 “An’ by my sowks”, observed Traynor”, he’d be a long time goin’ up a Maypowl in the state he’s in - his own snail would bate him.”
 “Yes”, said another”, but he desarves credit for travellin’ from Clansallagh to Findramore, widout layin’ a foot to the ground -
 Wan day wid Captain Whiskey I wrasteled a fall, But faith I was no match for the captain at all-- But faith I was no match for the captain at all, Though the landlady’s measures they were damnable small. Tooral, looral, looral, looral lido.
 Whoo - hurroo! my darlings - success to the Findramore boys! Hurroo - hurroo - the Findramore boys for ever!”
 “Boys, did ever yees hear the song Mat made on Neil Mullen’s fight wid Jemmy Connor’s gander? Well, here it is, to the tune of “Brian O’Lynn.” -
 As Ned and the gander wor basting each other, I hard a loud cry from the grey goose his mother; I ran to assist him, wid my great speed, Bud before I arrived the poor gander did bleed. ’Alas!’ says the gander, ’ I’m very ill trated, For tracherous Mullen has me fairly defated; Bud had you been here for to show me fair play, I could leather his puckan around the lee bray.’
 “Bravo! Mat”, addressing the insensible schoolmaster -“success, poet. Hurroo for the Findramore boys! the bridge boys for ever!”

[cont.]