good-nights, and they are gone! So ends a dinner-party, and of all
the company not a vestige is seen, save the blaze of the low-burned
wax-lights, the faded flowers, the deranged furniture, and the jaded
looks of those whose faces wreathed in smiles for six mortal hours seek
at last the hard-bought and well-earned indulgence of a hearty yawn!

CHAPTER XIII. TUBBER-BEG.

He was, the world said, a jovial fellow,
Who ne'er was known at Fortune to repine;
Increasing years had rendered him more mellow,
And age improved him--as it did his wine.

Sir Gavin Gwynne.

The Shannon, after expanding into that noble sheet of water called
Lough Derg, suddenly turns to the southward, and enters the valley of
Killaloe, one of the most beautiful tracts of country which Ireland,
so rich in river scenery, can boast. The transition from the wide lake,
with its sombre background of gray mountain and rocky islands, bleak
and bare, to the cultivated aspect of this favored spot, is like that
experienced in passing from beneath the gloom of lowering thunder-clouds
into light and joyous sunshine. Rich waving woods of every tint and hue
of foliage, with here and there some spreading lawns of deepest green,
clothe the mountains on either side, while in bright eddies the rapid
river glides in between, circling and winding as in playful wantonness,
till in the far distance it is seen passing beneath the ancient bridge
of Killaloe, whose cathedral towers stand out against the sky.

On first emerging from the lake, the river takes an abrupt bend, round
a rocky point, and then, sweeping back again in a bold curve, forms a
little bay of deep and tranquil water, descending towards which the rich
meadows are seen, dotted with groups of ancient forest trees, and backed
by a dense skirting of timber. At one spot, where the steep declivity
of the ground scarce affords footing for the tall ash-trees, stands a
little cottage, at the extremity of which is an old square tower; this
is Tubber-beg.

As you sail down the river you catch but one fleeting glance at the
cottage, and when you look again it is gone! The projecting headlands,
with the tall trees, have hidden it, and you almost fancy that you have
not seen it. If you enter the little bay, however, and, leaving the
strong current, run into the deep water under shore, you arrive at a
spot which your memory will retain for many a day after.

In front of the cottage, an