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"What the devil scares the fool?" cried the doctor.

"The devil himself, I think," muttered Philip.

"What are you afraid of?" con tinued he of the red cloak, while his mouth seemed to elongate itself from ear to ear. "Don't you know me, booby?"

As he said this he turned the light of the lantern full upon his own face. Philip remained silent.

"I come from your brothers," said the ominous red-cloak.

"Mercy on us!" ejaculated Philip -and then added in a lower tone, "it was not kindly done of them, though, to send you after their own born brother, poor dead and d-d souls as they are."

"If you have sense enough to follow me, your fortune is made," continued the tempter, again leering most abominably, and with a look that still more completely identified him in Philip's mind with the odious little imp of the giant's shaft. They must be one and the same person, he felt convinced, in spite of some striking differences in figure. He was, how ever, prudent enough to keep this salutary conviction to himself, and not well knowing what to say, returned no answer, which was about the wisest thing he could do. But the red-cloak was not to be put off so easily; he was, moreover, rapidly losing his temper, much as other fishermen are apt to do when the gudgeons won't rise readily to the bait.

"Do you hear, fool?" he exclaimed, while his eyes glowed like living embers-" Your brothers have found a treasure."

The miner was at once startled out of his silence.

"Ay, poor wretches, found a treasure, and lost their souls, no doubt." "That's as it may be; my business is with bodies, not with souls," replied the red-cloak.

"I shan't trust to that," thought Philip.

"But come, we have not a moment to lose; I have tarried too long already."

"You'll tarry a little longer, friend, before you catch me travelling your road," said Philip, though in so low a tone there was no fear of its being overheard.

VOL. XXIV.

"Hark! the signal!" cried the redcloak, stamping impatiently; and, as Philip afterwards declared, but this was when he had repeated the story a hundred times, a blue flame burst from the ground where his foot struck.

At the same instant a broad flash, like lightning, swept over the sea, and before it had well passed away, was succeeded by a peal of thunder. The doctor, if doctor he really were, again called upon the miner to follow him.

"I can stay no longer. Follow me, and your fortune is made."

"Now, Heaven and all the Saints deliver me from any such fortune!" ejaculated the terrified miner.

At this declaration, he of the red cloak burst into an appalling roar of laughter, that to Philip's ears had nothing earthly in it; it was louder and harsher than the thunder had been a minute before.

"So you won't go with me?" exclaimed the goblin. "Well, then, you must e'en live and die a poor rascally tinner, as your father did before you; and, good faith, it's all such a cowardly jolter-head is fit for. However, there's another sack of gold for you, and mind you use it wisely."

So saying, the tempter flung down a second bag, that rattled heavily as it fell upon the shingle, being evidently, from the sound, much larger than the first. He then slowly disappeared in the darkness, but, long after his figure had ceased to be visible, his light was seen travelling steadily along the waves.

"By the blessed Rood!" exclaimed Philip, after having watched it for se veral minutes-"By the blessed Rood, he walks as easily upon the water, as I should upon the dry ground! I said it was the Old One-I was sure of it→→ but thanks be to the Virgin, he's gone, and his treasure shan't be long in going after him, for it's easy to guess what would come of keeping it. I have had a taste of that already in the matter of the gold cup-so here goes. There's one for you, Old Beelzebub, and there's the other-and now we are quits, and I only pray to Heaven I may never set eyes on you or your gold again."

Having flung both bags into the sea, as far as he had power to throw them, Philip considered that he had obtained a complete victory over the

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fiend, and one well worthy to rank by the side of the immortal legend of Saint Dunstan. Full of the glory of his achievement, he returned to the village to impart his wise and valiant doings to his neighbours, and received from them as much honour and admiration, as if he had brought home the discovery of a new mine. For six long months he had the pleasure of finding himself and his story the subjects of universal interest, insomuch, that he was fully entitled to consider himself the most famous personage in Saint Just. He was talked of, pointed at, and had even the supreme felicity of being commemorated in a ballad, written by a cobler-poet, who had long been the glory of the town for his skill in mending shoes and making verses, though an unlucky wag once observed, that if he were to make his shoes and mend his verses, it would be the better for him in both trades. However this might be, the song was chanted from morning to night by young and old, to the infinite glory of Philip; besides which, at a club held at the sign of the Three Jolly Maltsters, his adventures formed an unfailing topic of conversation amongst the learned of the parish; nor was it ever observed, that his auditors grew weary of discussing their merits, or that any one doubted their reality, excepting the master of the free school, who seemed to have inherited all the abominable opinions of old Kirton. This unhappy little hunchback never could be brought to listen to any reason but his own, and would stand his ground against the mighty host of his opponents, unmoved by all arguments save one, which was a branch of what logicians term the argumentum ad hominem, and applied to his substantial interests. He had rummaged out from some forgotten nook an old story of a former owner of the Huel-Rose, who, in the troublesome times of the Civil Wars, had secreted a quantity of gold in the mine for its greater security, and, having fallen in battle, the secret of his hiding-place had died with him. On this narrow basis he had construct ed a beautiful building much to his own satisfaction, though it might convince no one else. "The treasure," he would say, "I doubt not Ralph lighted upon in emerging from the water in the inner cave, whither he was most probably carried by his

drunken efforts to escape from the pool. Of course, he could not but know, that if his discovery were made public, he would be called upon to refund the gold to the owner of the mine, in whom the property of such windfalls was most unquestionably vested; and, therefore, with the help of his brothers, he quietly conveyed it away on the occasion of Saint John's Eve, which took place on the following day, a time when no one was likely to interrupt them. The smuggling bark, of which he was Captain, and which brought him over, was close at hand, and then it is most probable they all went over to Holland, where they could enjoy the property unmolested."

"And pray," said Mr Snufflebags, with a sneer of superior wisdom, "how do you account for the disappearance of the supposed doctor?"

Snufflebags, it should be observed, was naturally, from his office as parish-clerk, the champion of the orthodox believers in Saint Just and the parts adjacent.

"How do you account for the disappearance of the doctor?" he repeated, smiting the table, as a man who thinks he has just demolished his adversary.

"Very simply," replied the peda gogue.

Simple enough, I'll be sworn," retorted the clerk, glancing round triumphantly at his admirers, who seeing from his looks that he must have said something exceedingly facetious, responded to the joke, whatever it might be, with peals of laughter.

"Take me with you," said the hunchback, a little disconcerted at the rough play of this artillery ; " I used not the word after your interpretation, but just as signifying a nodus, or knot, which was facilis-that is tə say, easy of explication."

"Oho! you are at your hic, hæc, hoc, your Latin, are you?" cried the man of the church, winking most knowingly at his lieges, who replied, as before, with furious cachinnations, a sort of argument which does more to silence a man, when left alone in a dispute, than the clearest syllogism. But the pedagogue went on with an obstinate ignorance of his own defeat; as Napoleon reproached the English general at Waterloo, he did not know when he was beaten.

"The doctor," he said, "most probably stumbled by some accident on the brothers as they were carrying off the treasure; they were thus compelled to buy his silence with a share of the booty, and, as he could not enjoy it here without exciting suspicion, he prudently went over with them to Holland, or wherever their place of refuge might be. It is the less sur prising that he should have met them in their operations, as his business led him out at all hours and in all places. I guess, moreover- "

"I guess this, and I fancy that," exclaimed Snufflebags, interrupting the schoolmaster with great heat, and in a tone that was meant by its mere weight to smother all opposition "Good man, keep to your Propria que marrowbones,' and leave these higher matters to us gentlemen of the church. I and the vicar are the best judges of what folk are to believe, even though they do sport Latin."

"You are right, Master Snuffle bags," said Philip. "Lord love your stupid head with your guesses, and fancies, and hard words; dost think brother Ralph is such a heathen Turk as not to have taken me with him, if he had found the treasure you make such a splutter about?"

"Why, you forget, Master Philip, you did not choose to go when the Doctor came for you; and I dare say he was not over and above pressing, as, the fewer to share the spoil, the better it would be for himself and his partners in the business."

"A marvellous likely tale!" retort ed the miner. "Did not I with my own eyes see the imp walk upon the water, as though he'd had a good deal flooring under his feet? And do you think a doctor,—that is, a mere doctor of flesh and blood, like any of us, could cross the sea at that rate?" "No doubt, if he were sitting in a boat; I see nothing to have prevented his crossing the Atlantic.”

"And who told you he was sitting in a boat? I saw no boat."

"Because the night was pitch dark, and you were in too great a fright to know what you saw,-so there you have the whole mystery unriddled."

At this period of the discussionand it regularly reached this point with the last pipe-Snufflebags would gravely rise from his presidential armchair, and, looking around him with an air of authority, exclaim,-" At this rate we may go on doubting till we have doubted away the parish register."

"I wish to Heaven we could!" mentally ejaculated the schoolmaster. -Nota bene,-The worthy pedagogue had the misfortune of being married, which awful calamity was indelibly recorded in the above volume, a huge folio, bound in rough calf, with brass hinges, and secured from the eye of the profane curious by clasps of the same metal. In his facetious moments he was wont to call it the register of the parish sins.

"Yes," continued the clerk, the austere dignity of his visage increasing as he proceeded; "not only so, but, what is worse, we may go on to deny there ever was such a thing as a ghost or a witch; this is a piece of blasphemy that I trust no gentleman here would entertain for a moment, as in that case I should feel it my duty to report him as a black sheep to his reverence, the vicar, who would take his measures accordingly."

To this argument, though repeated every club-night, that is, once a-week, with very little variation, it was never found that the little hunchbacked schoolmaster could give any reply; it must therefore be considered decisive of the matter, and the tale of the Huel Rose becomes as much a matter of legitimate history, as the achievements of the Maid of Orleans, or the labyrinth of Fair Rosamond.

IRELAND AS IT IS; IN 1828.

CHAPTER V.

THE LAND AND THE LANDLORDS.

We feel mightily tempted to introduce our Irish Chapters this month, with some observations upon the change, so gratifying to Protestants, which has recently taken place in the aspect of Irish politics. The Catholic Association is no longer seen to stand alone and unopposed,-a many headed monster, ruling over the land with despotic and undisputed sway. The Protestants have at length awakened from their sleep of inactivity, and they stand forth in their strength, like a giant refreshed.-But we must resist the inclination which we feel to speak of politics, and beg our readers to go along with us, while we afford them some instruction, and we hope some entertainment too, upon a less ambitious, but not less important subject. We are ever fear.ul, while we hover about this subject, that we may be led away from it, and therefore, without more introduction, plunge at once, in medias res.

We have already adverted, generally, to the unimproved state of the land in Ireland ;-cultivation is managed, except in a few isolated instances, in the cheapest and most slovenly manner; the land is not assisted nearly so much as it ought to be, by manure or labour, and is suffered to waste much of its natural strength in the production of weeds. There is nothing in which the Irish are more behind the English than in farming; yet their material-the ground, is in general better than curs, and their winters are considerably more mild. Agricul tural matters are commonly managed in such a wretched make-shift way, as would appear at once savage and ridiculous to an English farmer. We mean, as to the general management of the whole farm, not only in the field, but in the farm yard. The crops, when grown up, appear very well, for they cover the cobbling work beneath; but in the preparation for the crop, and in the management of the ground after it is taken off, the greatest slovenliness prevails. It is not so much ignorance as want of means, and a perverse addictation to

old habits, which are the cause of this. Great numbers of the peasantry come to England every year to reap the harvest, and many substantial farmers and graziers come yet oftener, to sell their cattle, and they see a better system; but the first class are exposed to all manner of ridicule, (a weapon, in the use of which the common people in Ireland are singularly expert,) if they give up their old customs, however barbarous; while the old women fail not to call up some wise saw of superstition, to exhibit the danger of improvement-and things go on in the old way. The second class do not like, or cannot afford, to go to the expense of important improvements, and they argue, with perhaps a good deal of truth, that their system is so much cheaper, that they save in the outlay as much as they would gain in produce, by a better and more expensive method. Here, we feel that something more than the mere profit at the end of the year should be considered, if a man wish to be comfortable and respectable. These ends can never be obtained by a mean slovenly system of miserable economy. But the misfortune of these people in Ireland is, that they have no taste for comfort and respectability; and they are but too often cursed with landlords who take no pains to encourage such a taste. In England a farmer has a direct interest in employing all the labour upon the farm which the land is capable of receiving with profit; for the more labourers he employs, the fewer he will have to support at the work-house; but in Ireland there is no such stimulus, and the ground is lamentably unwrought. It is common to take three crops from one manuring, and so good is the land, that sometimes it will yield five. The favourite plan, when it is permitted by the landlord, is to pare the surface, and burn it in small heaps, which are then spread over the land. This manure produces excellent potatoes, and good after-crops,-probably because the weeds being all destroyed by the burning, the ground is not obliged to nourish any thing but the seed

sown in it. They always either burn the surface, or provide manure for potatoes, which are generally both planted, and taken out of the ground with the spade, or "fack," as they term the instrument with which they dig, and which differs from the common spade, in being longer and narrower, with the handle at one side, instead of in the centre. Although planting po tatoes in drills, which admits of their being covered, and afterwards as they shoot up, earthed with the plough, and finally turned out of the ground with the same instrument, is some times practised; yet planting in what they call "lazy beds" is much more common. The cut potatoes are laid upon long beds, between each of which a narrow trench is dug, and the earth taken out is thrown on either side upon the seed which has been spread out. In this way, it is obvious that the plough cannot be used, either in planting or taking them up, but the crops are in general very good. They have no notion, however, of storing them with the care and neatness which the English farmer bestows upon this much used and much abused root. The Irishman commonly tumbles them into a pit, as broad as it is long, piles them as high as he can, and beats the earth close over them, often without putting anything between the earth and the potatoes. In England a long trench is dug, about two feet deep, and four or five broad, into which the potatoes are thrown, and piled up to about four feet from the surface, with a gradual slope on each side like the roof of a house; sheaves of straw are then laid against the pile on both sides, the ends projecting above the top of the ridge; the earth is beaten down over the straw up to the ridge, but not on it, so that the straw forms a kind of chimney, by which air is admitted to the potatoes inside, yet gets so far warmed in its passage, as to avoid the risk of frost.

The Irish fields are excessively unsheltered; perhaps the mildness of the climate makes shelter less necessary,

but it is a sad deficiency in appear. ance. They are rarely divided by hedges, and even when they are, the hedges are stunted, loose, and ragged, without any standard trees studding them at intervals, as in England. All this we must again attribute, in a great measure, to the shameful neglect of landlords, who, beyond their own de mesne, seem to take no more interest in the beauty of their estate, than if it were a mere convenience to obtain rent from, and not a portion of their country under their immediate guardianship, which they should feel them→ selves bound in honour to treat with some care and attention.

There are some noblemen and gen tlemen in Ireland, who, much to their credit, set an example of farming in the best style; but their stewards are generally Scotchmen, who have not the same taste for neatness, which so happily prevails in England. Even in the best farm-yards, an Englishman would find reason to complain of untidiness. He would, perhaps, find the corn stacks upon stands, and the hay upon the ground-the corn thatched clumsily, and unevenly, and sometimes the hay not thatched at all-the thrashing-machine rusty, the farm-yard unswept, and a variety of other things, petty in detail, but important in the general effect, which the bad habits of the farm-servants suffer to remain unattended to. Upon the whole, it is a general truth with respect to Ireland, that the land is shamefully neglected

that it is neither fenced, nor drained, nor manured, nor tilled, as it ought to be, and that there is an immense fund for profitable employment of the people, in the improvement of the natu ral capabilities of the soil. Neverthe less, the Emigration Committee say the population is redundant," and sure they are all honourable men." More honourable than wise, however, as appears from their conclusions respecting Ireland, "its evils, and their remedies," which conclusions have been shattered to pieces by the battery of Mr Sadler's erudition. This gen

• We have been informed that in Essex, where potatoes are more extensively grown than in any other English county, they have a peculiar method of storing them. A pit is dug of considerable dimensions, and filled with water; into this the potatoes are tumbled, and piled up as high as can be accomplished above the surface, in a pyramidal form. Clay is then beaten on the heap, over straw, and then the whole is thatched, and so left.

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