The Liverpool Standard and General Commercial Advertiser.
Liverpool, Merseyside, England, 1848-01-11 00:00:00

7:

The Parlour Library. The Emigrants of Ahadarra,"

by T . .1. Carleton

LOndon

Mr. Carleton stands almost alone, or at all events
above most of his contemporary tale writers and novelists
in his nice appreciation ot, and power of describing—the
wild habits and eccentricities, both good and evil, of the
peasantry of his native country. In the emigrants of
Ahadarra, he has succeeded in painting some pictures of
the peculiar features of Irish society which are worthy of
being attentively studied. Jemmy Burke, the snug
farmer, shrewd and industrious, yet carrying his gene-
rosity to a faulty extreme, and slovenly in the very points
in which want of care renders his shrewdness and indus-
try vain, is a character too commonly to be found in
Ireland and intimately associated with that country's
want of progress in the social scale. The whole history
of the Mahon family is full of interest and instruction.
The old man, Tom Mahon especially, with his credulous
reliance upon the word of a " gentleman " being as good
as a lease, is a capital character, as are several others in
the tale. The working out of the plot is not quite so
happy as Mr. Carleton has been in some of his previous
works ; and the conclusion strikes us as being somewhat
hasty, as if the author had been pulled up before he had
th his subject. We have given some extracts

THE LIVERPOOL STANDARD

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occasion some vivid glances, that were burthened, as they
passed aslant their fair faces, with pithier feelings than
those that originated from a simple desire of victoq. If
truth must be told, baleful flashes, unmeasured both in
number and expression, were exchanged in a spirit of true
defiance between the interested and contending parties,
as the close of the contest approached. At length, by the
proclamation of the reelers, the gnat body of the compe-
titors were thrown out, and they consequently gave up the
contest. It was now six o'clock, and the first sound of
seven o'clock by Captain Millar's bell was to clue the
proceedings, and enable the reelers to proclaim the victor.
Only four names now remained to battle it out to the
last; to wit, a country farmer's daughter, named Betty
Aikins, Dora M`Mahon, Hanna Ci.tvanagh, and a servant
girl belonging to another neighbour, named Peggy Bailly.
This ruck, as they say on the turf, was pretty well up to-
gether, but all the rest nowhere. And now, to continue
the metaphor, as is the case at Goodwood or the Cur-
ragh, the whole interest was centred upon these four.
At the commencement of the last hour the state of the
case was proclaimed, as follows :—Betty Aikins, three
dogeq and eight cuts; Dora M'Mahon, three dozen and
seven cuts ; Hanna Cavanagh, three dozen and five cuts ;
and Peggy Bailly, three dozen and four cuts. Every in-
dividual had now her own party anxious tor her success,
and amidst this hour of interest how many hearts beat
with ad the hopes and fears that are incident even to the
most circumscribed contests of human life. Opposite
Dora stood the youth whom we have already noticed,

James Cavanagh, whose salvation seemed but a very
trifling thing when compared or put into opposition with
her success. Be this as it may, the moment was a most
exciting one, even to those who felt no other interest than
that which naturally arises from human competition.
And it was unquestionably a beautiful thing to witness
this particular contest between four youthful and indus-
trious young women. Dora's otherwise pale and placid
features were now mantling, and her beautiful dark eyes
flashing, under the proud and ardent spirit of ambition,
for such, in fact, was the principle that now urged and
animated the contest. When nearly half-an-hour had
passed, Kathleen came behind her, and stooping down,
whispered—' Dora, don't turn your wheel so quickly : you
move the foot-board too fast—don't twist the thread too
much and you'll let down more.'
" Dora smiled and looked up to her with a grateful and
flashing eye; Thank you, Kathleen,' she replied, nod-
ding, ' I'll take your advice.' The state of the contest
was then proclaimed :—Betty Aikins, three dozen and ten
cuts; Dora M'Mahon, three dozen and ten cuts ; Hanna
Cavanagh, three dozen six cuts and a half ; Peggy Bailly,
three dozen, five and a half.

" On hearing this, Betty Aikins's cheek became scarlet,
and as it is useless to disguise the fact, several flashing
glances that partook more of a Penthesilean fire than the
fearful spirit which usually characterizes the industrious
pursuits of Minerva, were shot at generous Dora, who
sustained her portion of the contest with singular spirit
and temper.
" You may as well give it up, Dora M`M•ihon,' ex-
claimed Betty ; • there never was one of your blood could
open against an Aikins—the stuff is not in you to beat
me.'
" A very little time will soon tell that,' replied Dora ;
but indeed, Betty, if I am doin' my best to win the
kemp, I hope it's not in a bad or unfriendly spirit, but in
one of fair play and good humour•'
" The contest now went on for about fifteen minutes,
with surpassing interest and animation, at the expiration
of which period, the seven o'clock bell already alluded to,
rang the hour for closing their labours and determining
the victory. Thus stood their relative positions—Dora
M`Mahon, four hanks and three cuts ; Betty Aikins, four
hanks; Hanna Cavanagh, three hanks and nine cuts;
Peggy Bailly, three hanks and eight cuts.

" When this result was made known, Betty Aikin burst
into a loud fit of grief, in which she sobbed as if her very
heart would break, and Kathleen stooping down, congra-
tulated the beautiful girl upon her victory, kissing her at
the same time as she spoke—an act of love and ki•,dness
in which she would have joyfully been followed by several
of her male friends, if they Lad dared to take that deli-
cious liberty.
" The moment of victory, we believe, is that which
may be relied upon as the best of true greatness. Dora
WiVrahon felt the pride of that moment in its fullest ex-
tent, but she felt it only to influence her better and nobler
principles. After casting her eyes around to gather in, as
it were, that approbation which is so natural, and ex-
changing some rapid glances with the youth we have al-
luded to, she went over to her defeated competitor, and
taking her hand said, ' Don't cry, Betty, you have no oc-
casion to be ashamed ; sure, as you say, it's the first time
you wor ever beaten ; we couldn't all win ; an' indeed if
I feel proud now, every one knows an' says I have a right
to he so; for where was there—ay, or where is there—
such a spinner as you are ? Shake hands now, an there's
a kiss for you. If I won this kemp, it was won more by
chance than by anything else.'

"These generous expressions were not lost on Betty;
on the contrary, they soothed her so much that she gave
her hand cordially to her young and interesting con-
gheress, after which they all repaired to a supper of new
milk and flummery, than which there is nothing more de-
licious within the wide range of luxury. This agreeable
meal being over, they repaired to the large barn where
Mickey M`Grory, the fiddler, was installed in his own pe-
culiar orchestra, consisting of an arm-chair of old Irish
oak, brought out from Gerald Cavanagh's parlour.

A FLATTERED DESCRIPTION OF LANCASHIRE.-A
noble county, believe us, kind reader, is that of Lan-Caster,
notwithstanding its tall chimneys, and black-mouthed
coal-pits, and • smoke-bcgritnmed faces, and swarthy
artizans, and covered operatives. The Southern shrinks
from it as a pestilence. " Only think of Manchester,
your royal highness !"was Brummell's exclamation, when
his regiment was ordered thither. Even the bishopric
went begging for awhile. The Londoner would almost as
soon be stuck up to the neck in a Tipperary bog, as be
fixed in a manufacturing town. But, over the wide world,
n:,int out to us a district of the same extent as Lanes-

shire aith the same properties of greatness. In this
much-maligned county there are fields as green, and
landscapes as fair, as eve can rest on. NOwhere is agri-
culture, in its science and practice advancing more rapidly.
From beneath its surface coal is dug out by brawny arms
to turn the machinery of the monster factory, and to

cheer the fireside of the humble cottage. From its
mountain-sides the stoneis quarried in abundance. Along
its picturesque valleys the dancing water-fall, is made
available for turning the wheels of the mill, and the wild
l:i'auties of nature are trained to the service of the practi-
cal and useful. Railways intersect the county like net-
work, affording unusual facilities of transit. On its
rivers float the argosies of a hundred lands ; and from its
ports are borne its manufactures to the four corners of
the earth. Its inhabitants are characterised by a sterling
intellect of Saxon parentage, polished and whetted by the
daily attrition of ceminercial dealings. Many a strong
mind has struggled up from the weaver's loots, till it, has
enriched the literature of the day, or increased the com-
forts of man by its prarti..al inventions. A noble coun-
ty, indeed, with all its failings ! a county " whose mer-
chants are princes," whose women are "witches," and
whose working men are •trong enough to "whip the
world."- -Fraser's Magazine.
OVERCROWDING OP THE METROPOLITAN GRAVE-
VA RDS.—Accurate returns have been made of the superti.-
cial extent of the parochial and some other burial grounds
of the metropolis, and of the numbers of bodies annually
interred in each. The annual average number of burials

per acre, for the seven descriptions Of burial places com-
prised in the intramural grounds, is stated in these official
returns to be 2,271. Now, if we divide this by 7, we have
the average for each, which gives 324 burials annually to
the acre. From the total we may tairly extract the burial
places of the Jews, and those of the Society of Friends,
which are well conducted. This will give us five species
of grounds, with an annual average of 2,130 burials to the
acre, or an average of 426 for each. The proper number,
you will remember, is 136 to the acre; in Germany, the
average is only 110 burials per acre per annum. Thus, at
the first glance, it is evident that our parish grave-yards
are made to receive every year three times as many bodies
as they ought, and four times. as many as are permitted
by the laws of well-regulated continental states. The in-
evitable crowding of our churchyards may be illustrated in
anyther way. The annual mortality of the metropolis, at
a low computation, is 50,000. Now, suppo•ing the bu-
rials to be renewed every ten years (and this is the shortest
period twat should be allowed for the decomposition of the
human body), 414 acres would be required, whereas we
have only 209. But this is not all. There are 182 paro-
chial graveyards in London. Of these, only 48 are con-
fined within the proper limit of 136 burials to the acre ;
the rest exhibit various degrees of saturation, from 200 up
to 3000 per acre annually. This is scarcely credible, hut
official returns confirm the truth of what I assert. In
very many the annual average per acre exceeds 1000.—
From Mr. G. A. Walker's Fourth Lecture on Metro-
politan Graveyards.
A CLERICAL DOCTOR-It would surprise many of our fair
readers were we to relate with what unreserved freedom
the clergyman is admitted into the secrets of all family
ailments. The poor seem to think he is entitled to the
full privilege of the doctor. We ourselves have made a
point of declining—with many grateful acknowledgements
—all the delicate investigations which old women would
have pressed upon us. From the non-observance of this
rule, a clerical friend of ours, not long ago, was placed in
a singular predicament. We heard the tale from his own
mouth, and can vouch for its truth. He has a country
living—surrounded. however, by manufacturing towns,
and inhabited chiefly by hand-loom weavers. He acts
not only as their spiritual physician, but takes equal pride
in administering to the relief of their bodily ailments.
-He is consulted by the old women far and wide, and is
considered unrivalled in his know', dge of the Pharma-
coptaia. Being an old soldier—a Waterloo officer—it is

.opposed that he picked up his skill somewhere abroad, or
on the field of battle. Some go so far as to say that on
one occasion he was shut up four-and-twenty hours with
an Egyptian necromancer. One night last winter he was
retiring to rest about el yen o'clock : his house was quiet,
and his household was in bed ; when he was startled by a
thundering knock at the door. " Holloa! who's the a?"
he inquired from his bedroom window. "James Jack-
son," was the laconic answer. " Mother's badly."
" Does your motherwant meto-night ?" " Ay, directly !"
was the stubborn reply. Our friend was decidedly sulky
as he contrasted the warmth of his bed with the • cold
without :' but, being too good a disciplinarian to break
ecclesiastical canons, he re-adjusted his coat and waist-
coat, muffled up his throat, threw on his veteran rogue-
laure, and started off with his parishitiner—a lubberly lad
of nineteen. It was a frosty, moonlight night ; on the
two trudged over the crisp snow ; when, aftt r walking
about half a mile, our friend's temper began to cool by
degrees; and, turning rotiod to his companion, he said,
in his usual kind tone,—" Well, and is your mother very
poorly ?" "Ay, hoo's (she's) vara badly at present. '
" But- she is likely to get better, I hope ?" " AY, ay,
hoo'll mend, happen (perhaps), after a bit." " What's
f It/ - -Of 0. kr

ne matter with her, do you know r _ ay,
1100'. habboring (in103.9u.r)7' " Lll.ll,,ri••g ! knbb.ring
shrieked our friend. turning- round fiercely upon his feliow-
traveller. " What do you mean by coming for we ?
Labboring ; go for Dr. Potts this instant. Labboring !
Am I a man-midwife, think you ?" " Well, well," was
the imperturable reply, " Folks says ye're vary skilfu' in
chymistering, and"—serat,hing his head, and looking his
pastor imploringly in the face—" a 'abhor's ten and six-
pence."—Fraser's Magazine.