h resisted it in a measure, may be
gathered from the fact that it was distinctly heard in the town of
Castleisland four miles away. Mr. R. Roche, J.P., who lives a mile from
Edenburn, also distinctly heard the explosion, which he describes as
resembling in sound that caused by the fall of a huge tree in close
proximity. Those who were at Edenburn at the time state that between
four and half-past four a low rumbling noise, followed by a sharp
report, was heard. The house trembled and shook to its foundations. The
inmates, some of whom were only awakened by the shock, were seized with
an indescribable terror. All the windows were smashed to atoms, the
furniture and fixtures in the interior were rattled, and some lighter
articles disturbed from their position. The suddenness of the alarm, and
the darkness of the night, coupled with an indefinite idea as to the
nature and extent of the explosion, made the occupants of the house
afraid to stir, and it was not until some servants living adjacent
arrived that the consternation caused in the household subsided
sufficiently to enable them to examine the house, and judge of the
narrow escape they had had from a violent and horrible death.'

The consternation most decidedly did not spread to the master and
mistress of the establishment. The _Kerry Sentinel_ quickly had an
allusion to 'a report that Mr. Hussey turned into bed after the outrage
with one of his laconic jokes--that he should be called when the next
explosion occurred.'

As a matter of fact what I did say was:-"My dear, we can have a quiet
night at last, for the scoundrels won't bother us again before
breakfast."

And I can solemnly testify that within ten minutes of that observation I
was fast asleep, and never woke till I was called.

But perhaps the best impression of what occurred can be obtained from
the recollection of my daughter Florence, now Mrs. Nicoll, who was an
inmate of Edenburn at the time.

'I was awakened by a terrific noise, which to my sleepy wits conveyed
the impression that the roof had fallen in. It was then between three
and four in the morning. I lit a candle and ran out into the passage
where were congregating my family in night attire. My father was
perfectly calm.

'"Dynamite and badly managed," was his laconic explanation. We all asked
each other if we were hurt, and began to be alarmed about my brother
John, who, however, put in an appearance in a singularly attenuated
nightshirt, w