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 up the fairies, Masther Art!—Do thry an make him, Misther Dick!—an' take to fallin' head over ears in love wid some nice young girrul. Sure, Miss Norah herself, bad as she is, 'd be betther nor none at all, though she doesn't come up to Masther Art's rulin'!"

This latter remark was made to Dick, who immediately asked him:—

"What is that, Andy?"

"Begor! yer 'an'r, Masther Art has a quare kind iv a girrul in his eye intirely, wan he used to be lukin' for on the top iv Knocknacar—the fairy girrul yer 'an'r," he added to me in an explanatory manner.

"I suppose, yer 'an'r," turning to me, "ye haven't saw her this day?"

"I saw nobody to answer your description, Andy; and I fear I wouldn't know a fairy girl if I saw one," said I, as I passed into the house followed by Dick, whilst Andy, laughing loudly, went round to the back of the house, where the bar was.

That was, for me at any rate, a very happy evening. Dick and I sat up late and smoked, and went over the ground that we had passed, and the ground that we were, please God, to pass in time. I felt grateful to the dear old fellow, and spoke much of his undertakings both at Knocknacar and at KnokcalltecroreKnockcalltecrore [sic]. He told me that he was watching carefully the experiment at the former place as a guide to the latter. After some explanations, he said:—

"There is one thing there which rather disturbs me.