re,
leaving the spots on which they lay of a deeper green. Occasionally,
too, a sly-looking fox might be seen lurking about a solitary lamb, or
brushing over the hills with a fat goose upon his back, retreating
to his den among the inaccessible rocks, after having plundered some
unsuspecting farmer.

As they advanced into the skirts of the cultivated country, they met
many other beautiful spots of scenery among the upland, considerable
portions of which, particularly in long sloping valleys, that faced the
morning sun, were covered with hazel and brushwood, where the unceasing
and simple notes of the cuckoo were incessantly plied, mingled with the
more mellow and varied notes of the thrush and blackbird. Sometimes the
bright summer waterfall seemed, in the rays of the sun, like a column
of light, and the springs that issued from the sides of the more distant
and lofty mountains shone with a steady, dazzling brightness, on which
the eye could scarcely rest. The morning, indeed, was beautiful, the
fields in bloom, and every thing cheerful. As the sun rose in the
heavens, nature began gradually to awaken into life and happiness; nor
was the natural grandeur of a Sabbath summer morning among these piles
of magnificent mountains--nor its heartfelt, but more artificial beauty
in the cultivated country, lost, even upon the unphilosophical "boys"
of Findramore; so true is it, that such exquisite appearances of nature
will force enjoyment upon the most uncultivated heart.

When they had arrived within two miles of the little town in which Mat
Kavanagh was fixed, they turned off into a deep glen, a little to the
left; and, after having seated themselves under a white-thorn which
grew on the banks of a rivulet, they began to devise the best immediate
measures to be taken.

"Boys," said Tim Dolan, "how will we manage now with this thief of a
schoolmaster, at all? Come, Jack Traynor, you that's up to still-house
work--escapin' and carryin' away stills from gaugers, the bloody
villains! out wid yer spake, till we hear your opinion."

"Do ye think, boys," said Andy Connell, "that we could flatter him to
come by fair mains?"

"Flatther him!" said Traynor; "and, by my sowl, if we flatther him at
all, it must be by the hair of the head. No, no; let us bring him first,
whether he will or not, an' ax his consent aftherwards!"

"I'll tell you what it is, boys," continued Connell, "I'll hould a
wager, if you lave him to me, I'll bring