, I wish
you'd let me get you and that poor man something to eat."
This kind offer they declined, and as the short rush-light was nearly
burned out, and as she had not another ready, she got what is called a
_cam_ or grisset, put it on the hearth-stone, with a portion of hog's
lard in it; she then placed the lower end of the tongs in the fire,
until the broad portion of them, with which the turf is gripped, became
red hot; she then placed the lard in the grisset between them, and
squeezed it until nothing remained but pure oil; through this she slowly
drew the peeled rushes, which were instantly saturated with the grease,
after which she left them on a little table to cool. Among the poorer
classes--small farmers and others--this process is performed every
evening a little before dusk. Having thus supplied them with these
lights, the pious widow left them to their own conversation and retired
to the little room in order to repeat her rosary. We also will leave
them to entertain themselves as best they can, and request our readers
to follow us to a different scene.
CHAPTER VII.--An Accidental Incident favorable to Reilly
--And a Curious Conversation
We return to the party from whom Fergus Reilly had so narrow an escape.
As our readers may expect, they bent their steps to the magnificent
residence of Sir Robert Whitecraft. That gentleman was alone in his
library, surrounded by an immense collection of books which he never
read. He had also a fine collection of paintings, of which he knew no
more than his butler, nor perhaps so much. At once sensual, penurious,
and bigoted, he spent his whole time in private profligacy--for he was
a hypocrite, too--in racking his tenantry, and exhibiting himself as
a champion for Protestant principles. Whenever an unfortunate Roman
Catholic, whether priest or layman, happened to infringe a harsh
and cruel law of which probably he had never heard, who so active in
collecting his myrmidons, in order to uncover, hunt, and run down his
luckless victim? And yet he was not popular. No one, whether of his own
class or any other, liked a bone in his skin. Nothing could infect him
with the genial and hospitable spirit of the country, whilst at the
same time no man living was so anxious to partake of the hospitality
of others, merely because it saved him a meal. All that sustained his
character at the melancholy period of which we write was what people
called the uncompromising energ
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