ed and gibbeted in different parts of the county of
Louth. Devann, the ringleader, hung for some months in chains, within
about a hundred yards of his own house, and about half a mile from
Wildgoose Lodge. His mother could neither go into nor out of her cabin
without seeing his body swinging from the gibbet. Her usual exclamation
on looking at him was--"God be good to the sowl of my poor marthyr!"
The peasantry, too, frequently exclaimed, on seeing him, "Poor Paddy!" A
gloomy fact that speaks volumes!

TUBBER DERG; Or, THE RED WELL.

The following story owes nothing to any coloring or invention of
mine; it is unhappily a true one, and to me possesses a peculiar and
melancholy interest, arising from my intimate knowledge of the man whose
fate it holds up as a moral lesson to Irish landlords. I knew him well,
and many a day and hour have I played about his knee, and ran, in my
boyhood, round his path, when, as he said to himself, the world was no
trouble to him.

On the south side of a sloping tract of light ground, lively, warm,
and productive, stood a white, moderate-sized farm-house, which, in
consequence of its conspicuous situation, was a prominent and, we may
add, a graceful object in the landscape of which it formed a part. The
spot whereon it stood was a swelling natural terrace, the soil of which
was heavier and richer than that of the adjoining lands. On each side
of the house stood a clump of old beeches, the only survivors of that
species then remaining in the country. These beeches extended behind the
house in a land of angle, with opening, enough at their termination to
form a vista, through which its white walls glistened with beautiful
effect in the calm splendor of a summer evening. Above the mound on
which it stood, rose two steep hills, overgrown with furze and fern,
except on their tops, which were clothed with purple heath; they were
also covered with patches of broom, and studded with gray rocks, which
sometimes rose singly or in larger masses, pointed or rounded into
curious and fantastic shapes. Exactly between these hills the sun went
down during the month of June, and nothing could be in finer relief
than the rocky and picturesque outlines of their sides, as crowned with
thorns and clumps of wild ash, they appeared to overhang the valley
whose green foliage was gilded by the sun-beams, which lit up the scene
into radiant beauty. The bottom of this natural chasm, which opened
agains