maids and wrinkled 'beldames bewail-in a snatch. It got light in the nick, ing about thee;-but when thee diest, die like a true heart the white foam for thy winding sheet, the roaring voice of the ocean for thy death-lament, and a noble bark for thy coffin. What can mate with the great sea? Look thee, my son, it's beautiful at all times when it beats against the beach-rocks that hem it in, foaming and raging like a madman wi' his fetters, as well as when the waves be one and all asleep, moving as gently as slumbering babies wi' the broad moon poring like a fond mauther above 'em. What though thee diest, as the Hollanders had like to ha' died an hour aback, in a cockle-shell smack? even then, thee goest out of the world like a man. You shall hear, -brethren," continued the stout Cornish mariner raising his voice as the dilloskers gathered around him. "The brig was scudding away like a sea-bird above the breeze, and we afearing nought, though 'twas dark as death, having those aboard that knew the course as Iwell as the way to their hammocks, and warranted coming a'thwart o' little 'pon that tack, while the wind spoke Nor' about. Anon the forward look-out, a whistling time after he'd howled out his dismal All's well,' jumped upon the cable-coil and shouted wi' all his breath, 'Vast! avast! mates, helm a-lee and about ship!-a sail a-head here, all hands, yohoy! Reuben roared, but 'twas too late. A sloop of a thing, wi' all aboard snoring under hatches, lay just neast our bows. We crushed upon her about midships, and rode her down awfully-most awfully, by G--d. A demurrage, for a second, succeeded the shock, and then on we went again as if nought had mattered. She proved to be a Dutch swab, lurking in yonder seas for fish-or something richer hap. To put about, or bring to, in time for help, was impossible-moreover every sand in the glass was gold to us. But the yawl was out, and three hearties, with the captain himself, and my fool of a boy here, wer' aboard her may the moon having struck out from her by line or spar, and preciously swabbed was the captain about it; howsomever, just as we'd hove in sight of your blazing hearth, he acked about, and bore away like a Geneva pink that has run full upon a king's ship in a fog." As Jasper Trevenny concluded his tale, the dillosk-gatherers were summoned to front about to the hearth, by the deep voice of their patriarch and Brehon King, old Fergus Consadine the wise. The Cornishman, who had entered the hut with his boy to seek refreshment after landing the Hollanders, now beheld for the first time, as the dilloskers opened on either side, the gaunt old monarch of the beach. Although reposing on the oak-log, which had been the throne of his predecessors for ages, it was plain, that, when erect, he towered far above even those of surpassing stature who gathered around him. His huge legs, encased in dark brown leather trowsers instead of the customary hose, wandered along the floor, seeming more like the main roots of a giant oak in its senility, than the limbs. of a man. His mantle of yellow* frieze, curiously embroidered at the edges, was thrown entirely from one shoulder, so as to reveal the bandel-cloth vest, and studded bark belt beneath it, and streamed down in great plenitude of fold to the base of his oaken throne. His long hair was turned back in the ancient Glibb or Cooleen fashion, and surmounted by a burred or conical woollen cap: moreover, it was of so peculiar a complexion and wavy a nature, as (like the bard's of old) to be compared to a living stream of milk, His large features, worn as they were by time and mischance, bore an imposing similarity to a mouldering ruin of which sufficient masses remain to shew what it had been in the days of its glory. The transient smile upon the one, as the passing sunbeam upon the other, illumined but to expose. A wreath of the red sun-dried dilloskweed, mingled with old laver, encir • The choice colour of the old Irish. cled his brows, and while his bony left hand wandered lovingly among the light tresses of a sleeping girl, he supported its fellow on one of the bends of a huge black staff, warped and scotched by nature or art into the figure of a snake. This was the Brehon King's sceptre, the symbol of his authority, and all in his domains paid implicit obedience to the laws promulgated by him who weilded it, for the time being, on the oaken log of ages. Tradition and legend were fertile in its honour, but neither Bard nor Shanaghos could narrate the story of its mysterious origin. The general belief was, that it had been vital, and would again resume its pristine nature, to the infinite peril of man, if ever the old Tanistry laws and Brehon Kings should be banished from Erin. "My sons," says old Fergus to his attentive dilloskers, " you have heard enough from the Sassenach, to put every young limb among you in motion. Far be it from one who sits on the oak of old times, to rise up against the festivals which our fathers rejoiced in and honoured-above all, so sacred a one as that of the Wren on the holy tide of Saint Stephen-may the Bancointha* wail over poor Onagh, the dear child of my child, when I do so! But, my sons, the honours of the day are done -you have ensnared the kingly little Wren on the brown furze-you have enthroned him in the green holly bush, set off with white love-knots and the fair tresses of your most comely virgins; you have carried him far and near in glory and state, and lastly, raised him The praises of the dead are sung prior to interment by the Bancointha or Cointaghaun, who is hired by the friends of the deceased for that purpose. A similar custom prevails among the Greeks. Les pleureuses publiques are mentioned by Pouqueville, in his Voyage en Morée, and there seems to be but little difference between their occupation and the Bancointha's. The whole ceremony of a burial, as described by him, approaches remarkably near to a rural wake and funeral in Ireland. above your broard board while feasting on what men have bestowed on you, as homage and gift to the king of all birds.* 'Tis now near unto morning, and the reign of the Wren is over. Bestir yourselves, boys. Misfortune has come upon a crew of strangers on your coast. They are now, perhaps, watching with eager eyes for the remains of their wreck on the morning tide. They may lack a brotherly hand to aid them. Away then, all of youprove yourselves strangers to the cursed blood of inhuman Kerry, and my blessing be on his head who proves first in the good work!" The young dilloskers tumultuously rushed out of the hut as old Fergus concluded, and hurried on towards the beach; young Paudrigg Dooley, the swiftest of foot among them, taking the lead. Christy Scanlon, the next in repute for speed, as usual, outstripped the mass of his companions, and trod close upon the steps of Paudrigg. On emerging from a little valley dingle that broke abruptly upon the beach, he came on a sudden in full view of the timorous Dooley, not in high action as he had expected, but pale and motionless as a wind-bleached hill-rock. "What happened you, Paudrigg?" was the young dillosk-gatherer's first question on reaching his fellow. "Is it elfstruck ye are, man? or has one of old Finn's giants been down from the Sliabh and scared you ? or maybe the heart's kilt in your body by the cruel kiss of a wave girl.-Avoch! avoch! he's dead dumb! "Husht! husht! asy, Scanlon," whispered Paudrigg; "asy, boy Christy, and look above there." Where? what?" eagerly inquired the youth. "Now see him," replied Paudrigg, "across the crake to the right of the bushes where the ship struck, and all died long ago when the sea flowed up to the glynn. It's the spirit of a father cursing the rocks that wrecked all The Wren feast is still kept up in Munster with the ceremonies detailed by the Brehon. his little ones." "Powers, now I have him," shouted Christy; "the spirit of a father, said ye?-Paudrigg, ye're a fool-a caubeen entirely, boy— It's a gold spirit!"-"A Lepreghaun?" "Ay that is he, as sure as Maccoul built the Binguthan-'tisn't the first myself saw."-"Will we be able to get a clutch at the treasure he watches, think ye?"-"Maybe yea, maybe nay, --but look, Paudrigg-by the holy Lough Darragh the creature's vanished." "My grief then! he heard us, Christy, and sure enough he'll build up a whole legion of rocks in a minute, twin brothers the one he stands by, and we'll have no mark of his station." The whole body of dillosk-gatherers had by this time joined the two youths, and drank with greedy; ears the residue of their discourse. "But was it indeed a gold goblin, think you, Paudrigg?" "As sure as you're a simpleton, Dinnis," replied Dooley to the inquirer; Christy himself said it was. creature tallied to a hair with the song in the wake mummery-an't I right, Christy? 66 "Aged and warped, and yellow was he, The As the dry dead leaf beneath the tree, "I know 'twas a Lepreghaun," concluded Paudrigg; "and mark me, boys, there's coin in the crags.' -"Coin!" said Jasper Trevenny, approaching "coin in the crags yander? What dost prate about? Coin indeed! Why thee'd sooner find coin in a tin-shank." There was a lurking expression in the * Lough Darragh was always accounted holy. In a copy of the articles of faith, which, it is said, was found in the pocket of priest Murphy, who was killed at the battle of Arklow, the 26th article runs thus: "We are bound to acknowledge the lake in the north to be holy, called Lough Darragh." St. Patrick's purgatory is situate on a small island in the lake. blows shattered the oak, which verily proved to be a gold-coffin. All was mute. Trevenny was the first who broke the long silence, by unconsciously uttering a short prayer, as Christy with a trembling hand dragged forth a large heavy untanned bull's-hide bag, from which the eloquent voice of gold emanated at every jerk. Cornish mariner's face which told the dillosker, that notwithstanding his sneering tone, he would willingly be convinced of the probability of discovering a treasure, even on the rough unpromising skirts of the glynn; and Dooley, who was unaccustomed to the pleasure of being attentively listened to, immediately entered into an elaborate detail of all the old proverbs and pithy rhymes current on the subject. Jasper continued to sneer, and interrupted the dillosker from time to time by exclaiming, "Oh! thee'rt mazed, mun, clean gone, a fool, mazed as a whether," Nevertheless he moved with huge strides towards the creek. Christy in vain attempted to restrain his countryman's injudicious exposure of the gold grave "to a Sassenach, who, by the look of him, would just murther a worm for the sake of his hide and fat. It was a sin in the face of the country-cased) streamed from the gash. Jasper so it was to let a stranger share in the rich produce of the soil; meat and drink all were welcome to, but a Lepreghaun's gold none ought to touch but a Milesian." The creek was forded with little difficulty, and, on reaching the crags, the party took different paths, and earnestly sought out the treasure grave. Paudrigg thought that the rocks were prodigiously multiplied, and the sand (which appeared to have been recently disturbed in different places) he asserted was dug up by the wary Lepreghaun and his manifold fellow sprites, for the purpose of bothering them. Christy said nothing; but, observing the Cornishman preparing to seek round the little rock, which he felt assured had been the goblin's temporary resting place, the passionate youth violently wrested a small hatchet from the belt of Paudrigg, and proceeded to cut up the hard gravel and sand with such energy, as to attract the undivided attention of his anxious companions. In a few moments his edge sunk deep in the side of a coffer, which lay buried in a cavity at the root of the crag; a few vigorous They soon regained the dillosk-hut ; and no sooner had Scanlon thrown his precious load upon the board, than Travenny attempted to sever the thongs which bound its mouth. His knife was keen, but the tough hide altogether defied its edge; and the irritated Cornishman growled forth a tremendous oath, as he suddenly drew his blade athwart the bellying side of the gorged bag. A flood of tarnished silver and gold mingled with precious stones, (some of which were naked, and others richly en gazed in ecstasy upon the glorious spectacle for a moment. He then thrust a handful of the coins into his bosom, and bathed his rough face in the mass. "I never was so freighted in my life," said he, appearing to be totally unconscious of the dillosk-gatherer's presence. "Mine, all mine-right Jacobuses, and true gold too, by Saint Joes." He next proceeded to replenish the bag; but Christy and his companions, who had hitherto stood motionless, although by no means indifferent spectators of the scene, suddenly rushed forward with one accord, and laid hands upon the treasure. "Ah! what!" roared Trevenny," Hands off, you devils! Pouch paws, I say, by blood else you'll rue it. An' poison me but I'll scat the first he that meddles wi' a dollar dead upo' the planchin." At that moment the door of the dillosk-hut began to tremble upon its hinges, and opening slowly to its full extent, at length revealed a stunted, gaunt-looking, yellow-visaged figure, tottering athwart the threshold. It was the Lepreghaun! All eyes were at once fixed on the goblin, who advanced slowly towards we the board, and laid his brown palm on the naked arm of Trevenny. "What! flesh and blood after all?" cried Jasper, as the Lepreghaun touched him. "Why mun, I counted 'pon seeing a pixy at least, instead o' thou, my dainty baitworm. What's come o' the Hollander porpoise we fished up in your wake, mun, eh?"—" We parted," replied the supposed gold-goblin, to the amazement of the dilloskers, " parted on the beach-may he be as successful in his quest as I have been in mine!"-" Quest! thine! What's thee prate about 'oosbert ?" asked Trevenny.-This-ay-this is my gold," firmly replied the diminutive creature."Thine" quoth Jasper, "thine? ha! ha! why thee'rt witless. It's a godsend, my chap, a fee,-finder's chattels a float."—"I buried it," resumed the supposed sprite," beneath the glynn crags, seaman, on the day when, in the extravagance of my affection, I endowed an unworthy nephew with the bulk of my possessions, and demeaned myself to sit as a guest at the board where I might rightfully have presided as lord of the feast. I was soon punished for my folly, cruelly punished by the misdeeds of him in whom I had placed my hopes. The allurements of the harlot, the wine-cup, and the gamester, were too mighty for his youth. The old gold flowed in streams from the fountain-coffers of his ancestors; his broad lands passed away from his possession, and the plough of the stranger furrowed his hearth. Shame for his guilt at length drove him from the land of his fathers, to wander an outcast upon the face of the earth. What had I to do in Erin then? I left the land in madness, and heeded not my buried gold. I return a pauper, bitterly sensible of its value in all parts of the world, and solemnly claim my own. It is equally valuable to me now with the very blood of life," -"Come, thee'st a good running tackle," said Jasper; "the coin o' thy tongue's mint may pass current enough wi' clods, but it melts not Trevenny. Harkye, chap, so I suppose thee wast coming for thy gold across the seas?"" In the frail vessel which you ran down last night in the roads. Wearily have I sought for my coffer since you put me on shore."-"Sure!" quoth the Cornishman. "And pray who bees the rogue of a neevey thee tell's about."-"His name,' was the reply," is well known here-Morty Quann."-The Cornishman staggered-"Quann! Morty Quann!" shouted he, " Blood, Sarrah, how so? Quann, say'st thee? Here's a land-shark, my cousins. He wants to berogue us wi' lies and what not. Let un swim, shall he? Let un float in a sieve, or a torn podger, shall he? We musn't be gallied out o' the gold so, brethren. This is the little nestletripe we hoisted out o' the brine tonight, cronies."-" We!" said the other petulantly; " say not we, fellow. To your chief I owe my life;-but for you-I might have perished before you would have thrust out a straw to aid me in my mortal strife." "What, Sarrah!" cried Trevenny, his brow assuming a deeper red: "this to Trevenny of Lostwithel ?-Jasper Trevenny that was hunted from home for his milkiness in the matter o' float-flesh? Stand aback, cousins--stand aback—I'll pitch un half way to Penzance at a jerk." As he spoke, the passionate Jasper moved round the board towards the old man, who, terrified at his threats, hastily retreated to the vacant Brehon throne, and, leaping upon it, loudly calling upon the dillosk-gatherers for protection. "Save me, my sons," said he, "save me from the knife of the robber. Visit not the sins of my nephew upon me;-forget if you can, that your patriarch's grand-child was a victim to his guiles. Give me a weapon at least! Does no one stand out? Are ye Irishers? Is there not one of my old faction—not a single O'Dwyer among ye?"" My mother was one, Sir Morough; for him I take you to be," shouted the tempestuous |