is, you would be apt to have other reasons for giving your horse,
whose heels are by this time surrounded by a dozen of barking curs, and
the same number of shouting urchins, a pretty sharp touch of the spurs,
as well as for complaining bitterly of the odor of the atmosphere. It
is no landscape without figures; and you might notice, if you are, as
I suppose you to be, a man of observation, in every sink as you pass
along, a "slip of a pig," stretched in the middle of the mud, the very
beau ideal of luxury, giving occasionally a long, luxuriant grunt,
highly-expressive of his enjoyment; or, perhaps, an old farrower, lying
in indolent repose, with half a dozen young ones jostling each other for
their draught, and punching her belly with their little snouts, reckless
of the fumes they are creating; whilst the loud crow of the cock, as he
confidently flaps his wings on his own dunghill, gives the warning note
for the hour of dinner.

As you advance, you will also perceive several faces thrust out of the
doors, and rather than miss a sight of you, a grotesque visage peeping
by a short cut through the paneless windows--or a tattered female flying
to snatch up her urchin that has been tumbling itself, heels up, in the
dust of the road, lest "the gentleman's horse might ride over it;" and
if you happen to look behind, you may observe a shaggy-headed youth in
tattered frieze, with one hand thrust indolently in his breast, standing
at the door in conversation with the inmates, a broad grin of sarcastic
ridicule on his face, in the act of breaking a joke or two upon
yourself, or your horse; or perhaps, your jaw may be saluted with a
lump of clay, just hard enough not to fall asunder as it flies, cast by
some ragged gorsoon from behind a hedge, who squats himself in a ridge
of corn to avoid detection.

Seated upon a hob at the door, you may observe a toil-worn man, without
coat or waistcoat; his red, muscular, sunburnt shoulder peering through
the remnant of a skirt, mending his shoes with a piece of twisted
flax, called a _lingel_, or, perhaps, sewing two footless stockings (or
_martyeens_) to his coat, as a substitute for sleeves.

In the gardens, which are usually fringed with nettles, you will see
a solitary laborer, working with that carelessness and apathy that
characterizes an Irishman when he labors for himself--leaning upon his
spade to look after you, glad of any excuse to be idle. The houses,
however, are not all such