s it one should be a Japanese acrobat, or a volunteer rifleman
shooting for the championship of the world. There are many and very fine
trees in the grounds about the Castle, and there is a charming garden,
now closed against the casual tourist, as it has been leased with the
modern house to a tenant who lives here. In the leafy summer the place
must be a dream of beauty. An avenue of stately trees quite overarching
the highway leads from Blarney to St. Anne's Hill, the site of which, at
least, is that of an ideal sanatorium. We walked thither over hill and
dale. The panorama commanded by the buildings of the sanatorium is one
of the widest and finest imaginable, worthy to be compared with the
prospect from the Star and Garter at Richmond, or with that from the
terrace at St. Germain.

Several handsome lodges or cottages have been built about the extensive
grounds. These are comfortably furnished and leased to people who prefer
to bring their households here rather than take up their abode in the
hotel, which, however, seems to be a very well kept and comfortable sort
of place, with billiard and music rooms, a small theatre, and all kinds
of contrivances for making the country almost as tedious as the town.
The establishment is directed now by a German resident physician, but
belongs to an Irish gentleman, Mr. Barter, who lives here himself, and
here manages what I am told is one of the finest dairy farms and dairies
in Ireland. Our return trip to Cork on the "light railway," with a warm
red sunset lighting up the river Lea, and throwing its glamour over the
varied and picturesque scenery through which we ran, was not the least
delightful part of a very delightful excursion.

After we got back I spent half-an-hour with a gentleman who knows the
country about Youghal, which I propose to visit to-morrow, and who saw
something of the recent troubles there arising out of the Plan of
Campaign, as put into effect on the Ponsonby property.

He is of the opinion that the Nationalists were misled into this contest
by bad information as to Mr. Ponsonby's resources and relations. They
expected to drive him to the wall, but they will fail to do this, and
failing to do this they will be left in the vocative. He showed me a
curious souvenir of the day of the evictions, in the shape of a
quatrain, written by the young wife of an evicted tenant. This young
woman, Mrs. Mahoney, was observed by one of the officers, as the
eviction went