s,
rising.

"O, never mind, leave that to me," said the vile, wily knave, as he went
to see to his arrangements for carrying the orphans to parts unknown.

CHAPTER VII.

A RUDE LOVER OF NATURE.

Father O'Shane, who had suffered severely from the effects of exposure
to the late violent storm, no sooner found himself a little recruited,
and the roads passable, than he prepared to return to his residence in
the city. He had, as conductor, a green young Irishman, lately arrived,
who felt almost inspired by the unusual luxury, presented for the first
time to his view, of a North American snowfall, and petitioned earnestly
to accompany his reverence back to the city to enjoy the "glorious
sport," as he called it, of a sleigh ride. The enthusiasm of the young
native of the perennial green fields of Munster did not escape the
notice of Father O'Shane, who himself was once not less enthusiastic,
and now not altogether insensible, to the chaste and almost sublime
beauty of Nature, when arrayed in her bridal robes of white on the
advent of spring.

"Well, Murty, how do you like this manner of travelling?"

"Be gonnies, your reverence, there is nothing I like better. What a fine
time it would be for tracking the hare, or hunting the fox!"

"You are fond of sport, I perceive."

"Bedad, sir, I would rather be out such a day as this, with dog and
gun, than eating bread and honey. I wonder if they would put you to jail
or transport you here, as they would at home, for fowling a bit in these
woods?"

"No, Murty, I believe not."

"No," said Murty, doubtingly. "You don't tell me so, your reverence?"

"I tell you that there are no game laws, or only very nominal ones; so
that, when you come back, if you and your dog traverse yonder mountain
from top to bottom, you need not be afraid of the rifle of the
gamekeeper, or of a sentence to a free passage to Van Diemen's Land."

"Murther! Must not they be very fine gentlemen here, to be so liberal?
Signs by I shall, please God, one of these days, visit that old, grand
mountain with the white head; and if there be a hare's form in his rough
sides or his curly beard, I will ferret it out, and soon have pussy by
the hind legs."

"I can see, Murty, you are growing poetical in your description of old
Mount Antoine," said the priest.

"Your reverence, did you ever see such a grand sight? I can't help
comparing that grand mountain there to the king of yon wild regions. The
sno