The examiner. [volume] (Louisville, Ky.) 1847-1849, 1847-11-20

need cloak 10 shelter ner tnefe
"No. sir" replied the man, reyerently
touching his hat; Il suppose she won't
s'And in the other place, OF dreadful pun
ishment, il is equally certain that no earthly
garment can avail as covering. sa't
True for your honor"
"Well." continued my friend, '"you be.
lieve what we deny. that there is third
place, which you call purgatoy; but by
all accounts it is very hot place--what
could she want Of cloak there "
"Some of them" replied the father, ear,
nestly. do be very cold there. In parts oil
II there's a dale of frost, and snow, and
sleet. and hail; and how do | know but my
darling child might be there, thinking hard
thoughts of the father and mother that
wouldn't get cloak 10 cover her T! Any
way. I will be made, and left in the house
herself NAV take the loan OF ii to wear at
times but twill be Nelly's cloak, and
ready for her there when she wants it. .,
"in that case" said Mr.. =, SIT would, l
think, be good plan if you had it made
large enough to cover both; your daughter 5
spirit might then find shelter under i, with
out depriving your wife of its use
That's very true; indeed, sir, ! never
thought Of that before. Phase God, III have
il done and, sure twill comfort the moth
er's heart, when she's going to mass or TO
market, TO think she has the sPerrit oil her
colleen bairn along with her undenathe the
cloak"
This is the substance of bona hde con-
yersation: the firm persuasion entertained
by the poor father that the departed possess
sort of semi-corporeal existence, is very
general among the peasantry in the remote
districts. Near the towns, Of course, such
superstitions have dwindled away, and the
present general diffusion OF education thro
The land will probably tend to Danish them
completely from the minds OF the rising gen
Grafton. Even now, it is often difficult to
draw from the mountaineer a candid con
fession of his faith in such matters Does
he suspect that you are qulzzlng hun ana
his perception Of the slightest approach to
badinage is quick beyond expression; he i'm
mediately either shelters himself under most
natural appearance Of stupid civility' agree,
ing with everything your honor says or, If
the bumor takes him, and that he sees you
are a British tourist, bent on making your
self thoroughly acquainted with all the
chameleon shades Of Irish character during
three weeks excursion, he will be likely
10 cram YOU with series Of as improbable,
not to say impossible, 6ctIons, as ever graced
the hotpressed pages perPetrated by an er-
rant and arrant cockney. Those, however,
who reside amongst them, and converse with
them skilfully and kindly, without betray-
ing any latent disposition TO mock, Will OIL
ten discover curious corners and recesses oil
the Irish mind. Old customs and traditions
also, lingering among the pagan mona
ments to which they probably owe their on
gin, are often, when explained, interesting
alike to the poet and the aniquary. In
later times, the imaginative spirit, which
still dwells amidst our highlands, has gwen
form and consistency To many a strange
idea connected with the abode and occupa-
tons of the dead.
was struck with an instance OF this
which fell lately under my own observation,
in the mountain district of the south to
which have before alluded. A belief is
entertained there, and very generally, |
think, in other places, that the last person
inferred in a churchyard is compelled to
draw water for the refreshnent Of the souls
in purgatory, until he is relieved by new
conner. When, therefore, it happens that
two funerals are fixed to take place on the
same day, the hurry, the racing, the lighting
that occur between the rival parties, each
wanting to secure precedence Of interment
for their friend, defy all description. On
such occasions, it will sometimes happen
that the collins are fractured in the struggle,
and the cold, CHASTITY faces Of their occupants
become exposed, presenting a hOrrid and re-
proachful contrast to the flushed, angry
countenances that surround them. Some
times the scene ends in blOodShed; more
frequently the weaker party yield the pas,
with a bad grace, indeed, and generally in
spired with thoughts Of peace by the eogent
arguments Of the officiating pastors horse
whip, which, potent in its office as the TIL
dent OF Neptune-pungent IN ITS apPhca-
ton as the soeptre OF Ulysses, when it visi-
ted Thersites' back-seldom falls to quell
rising tumult.
In the village Of l. there is an old
church-yard whose narrow precincts are al
ready filled with graves; YET, as IT lies IN
the centre of large parish, funerals arrive
there very frequently. The grounds OF a
friend Of mine adloin it; his flower garden
is. indeed, divided from it only by two low
fences, and narrow lane between, so that
the inexpressibIy mournful tones Of the Irish
cry are often heard distinctly there, contrast
ing painfully with the sweet song OF birds,
and all the Joyous melodies OF summer time.
One DAY, as Mr.. - was standing in MS
garden, he saw long procession appearing
on the brow Of the opposite hill. 1t wound
slowly down path made through the heath
err, and the wild sound of wailing that float
ed family on the breeze, told the reason of
the sad array. As they approached nearer,
the bearers Of the coffin ouickened their
pace almost to a run, followed by their com
panions; and when they reached the road
which led towards the churchyard, they
dashed forward with a speed most unsuited
to their solemn Grand. The reason was
soon evident. Passing turn of the road,
in the opposite direction, there appeared
another funeral, approaching with equal "a
pidity. At the moment that they came in
sight, both parties were about equally near
the goal. and II seemed impossible TO tell