destitute of every domestic implement, except the iron pot in which the potatoes are boiled, and the stool on which they are flung. From those wretched hovels (which often appears amidst scenes that might furnish the richest models to poetic imitation) it is common to behold a group of children rush forth at the sound of a horse’s foot, or carriage wheel, regardless of the season’s rigours, in a perfect state of nudity, or covered with the drapery of wretchedness, which gives to their appearance a still stronger character of poverty; yet even in these miserable huts you will seldom find the spirit of urbanity absent—the genius of hospitality never. I remember meeting with an instance of both, that made a deep impression on my heart; in the autumn of 1804, in the course of a morning ramble with a charming Englishwoman, in the county of Sligo, I stopped to rest myself in a cabin, while she proceeded to pay a visit to the respectable family of the O’H———s, of Nymph’s Field: when I entered I found it occupied by an old woman and her three granddaughters; two of the young women were employed scutching flax, the other in some domestic employment. I was instantly hailed with the most cordial welcome; the hearth was cleared, the old woman’s seat forced on me, eggs and potatoes roasted, and an apology for the deficiency of bread politely made, while the manners of my hostesses betrayed a courtesy that almost amounted to adulation. They had all laid by their work on my entrance, and when I requested I might not interrupt their avocations, one of them replied “I hope we know better—we can work any day, but we cannot any day have such a body as you under our roof.” Surely this was not the manners of a cabin but a court. 

       Almost suffocated, and not surprised that it was deserted pro tempo, I hastened away, and was attracted towards a ruinous barn by a full chorus of female voices—where a group of young females were seated round an old hag who formed the centre of the circle; they were all busily employed at their wheels, which I observed went merrily round in exact time with their song, and so intently were they engaged by both, that my proximity was unperceived. At last the song ceased—the wheel stood still—and every eye was fixed on the old primum mobile of the circle, who, after a short pause, began a solo that gave much satisfaction to her young auditors, and taking up the strain, they again turned their wheels round in unison.—The whole was sung in Irish, and as soon as I was 

 Prev. P 19/268 next