claret than is
perhaps good for us.

I landed once at Burncrana, a pretty quiet little village, with a
watering-place look, on the eastern banks of that great and beautiful
bay Lough Swilly. One side of this fine harbour is formed by the bold
promontory of Inishowen, celebrated in every land for its noble
whiskey, second only (which, as a Scotchman, I am bound to assert) to
Ferntosh or Glenlivet. I was accompanied by an English gentleman, on
the first day of his landing in Ireland. As he then seriously imagined
the inhabitants to belong to a sort of wild and uncouth race, I could
see he was rather surprised at the gentleman-like deportment of an
acquaintance of mine resident on the spot, for whom he had brought a
letter. We had walked together to his house, or rather cottage, for he
was not a fixed resident, but came there for summer quarters. The
neatness, and even elegance, of the domestic arrangements of his
temporary establishment, both without and within the dwelling, gave
token of a taste many degrees removed from the state of people far
back in civilization. Presently the ladies came; and their national
frankness, modified by the most entire and unaffected simplicity,
puzzled my friend completely. In due season the dressing-bell sent us
off to prepare for dinner; and while we were getting ready, my
companion said, "I see what this fellow is at: he means to sew you and
me up. You may do as you please; but I'll be shot if he plays off his
Irish pranks on me. I will eat his dinner, take a couple of glasses of
his wine, make my bow to the ladies, go on board by eight or nine
o'clock, and, having given them a dinner in return, shall have done my
duty in the way of attention; after which I shall totally cut the
connection. I have no idea of their abominable fashion of forcing
strangers to drink."

"We shall see," said I; and having knocked the dust off our shoes,
down we went to dinner.

Everything was plain, and suitable to the pretensions of a cottage.
There was no pressing to eat or drink during dinner; and in process of
time the cloth was removed, the Ladies sipped a little sweet wine, and
disappeared.

"Now for it," whispered my friend; "he has sent the women out of the
way, that he may ply us the better."

And I must own things looked rather suspicious; for our host, instead
of sitting down again at the dinner-table, walked to a bow-window
overlooking the anchorage, and exactly facing the setting sun, at