d of the house stood a potato-bin, made up
of stakes driven into the floor, and wrought with strong wicker-work.
Tied to another stake beside this bin stood a cow, whose hinder part
projected so close to the door, that those who entered the cabin were
compelled to push her over out of their way. This, indeed, was effected
without much difficulty, for the animal became so habituated to the
necessity of moving aside, that it was only necessary to lay the hand
upon her. Above the door in the inside, almost touching the roof, was
the hen-roost, made also of wicker-work; and opposite the bed, on the
other side of the fire, stood a meal-chest.

Its lid on a level with the little pane of glass which served as a
window. An old straw chair, a few stools, a couple of pots, some wooden
vessels and crockery, completed the furniture of the house. The pig to
which Sheolah alluded was not kept within the cabin, that filthy custom
being now less common than formerly.

This catalogue of cottage furniture may appear to our English readers
very miserable. We beg them to believe, however, that if every cabin
in Ireland were equally comfortable, the country would be comparatively
happy. Still it is to be remembered, that the _dramatis personae_ of our
story are of the humblest class.

When seven o'clock drew nigh, the inmates of this little cabin placed
themselves at a clear fire; the father at one side, the mother at the
other, and the daughter directly between them, knitting, for this is
usually the occupation of a female on such a night. Everything in the
house was clean; the floor swept; the ashes removed from the hearth;
the parents in their best clothes, and the daughter also in her holiday
apparel. She was a plain girl, neither remarkable for beauty, nor
otherwise. Her eyes, however, were good, so were her teeth, and an
anxious look, produced of course by an occasion so interesting to
a female, heightened her complexion to a blush that became her. The
creature had certainly made the most of her little finery. Her face
shone like that of a child after a fresh scrubbing with a strong towel;
her hair, carefully curled with the hot blade of a knife, had been
smoothed with soap until it became lustrous by repeated polishing, and
her best red ribbon was tied tightly about it in a smart knot, that
stood out on the side of her head with something of a coquettish air.
Old Donovan and his wife maintained a conversation upon some indifferent