The Cambria freeman. [volume] (Ebensburg, Pa.) 1867-1938, 1871-12-02
From the Catholic Record FIR Dec6 mber.
4 LUCKY PREsENTIMENT.


The writer wishes to pledge himself at
the outset TO the literal authenticity #
the narrative. which he heard from the
lips of the late eminent queens counsel.
George Bennett, at that time a Junior on
the Munster circuit, and himself an eve
witness and attentive hstner at the trial.
On fine summer evening, when TIE
rustic hour of supper was approaching,
there arrived at the door of a comfortable
thatched cabin, of large dimensions, sjIct
as the class of persons known in Ireland
as ''strong farmers" usually inhabit,
stranger, dressed in the then peasant cos
tune, corduroy shorts, frieze coat, eau
been, and brogues, and with blackthorn
stick in his hand. The wayfarer entered
with the usual salutation, God save all
here, and asked if this was not Denis
Macarthy's house. The women who
were In the cabin told him it was, and
invited him civily to sit down, s'and take
ali air of the fire > and with this invita-
ton he complied, entertaining his new
acquaintance the while with 5Jftfi t,cy@s
as be had collected while on his journey.
The man was dark featured. of middle
stature, and of square and powerful build
In a little while Denis Mccarthy, re-
turning from his fields, entered the cabin
door, and the stranger introduced hit.IsefF
as his cousin, Phil Ryan, from Cappagh>
more, in the county of Limerick, and told
him what had brought him to that distant
part of the world. His business was to
say certain prayers, over the grave of a
common klnsman OF both, who had Ped
two or three weeks before, and was buried
In the neighboring graveyard.
Mccarthy received his cousin, although
he had never seen his face before, wit,
the customary cordiality of clanship, and
told him that he must sup and sleep in
his house that night, and eat his break
last there before setting out in the morn
ing on his homeward journey.
10 all tins the stranger consented, and
then, as he was unacquainted with the
situation OF the graveyard, he asked Ma
earthly, If 1t was not tar off, to show him
the way TO it and point out the grave Of
their cousin.
Mccarthy readily consented, and, as
the potatoes were not quite boiled, it was
agreed that they should set out at once,
and return in time for supper.
ln the south of Ireland simple burial
places, probably of immense antiquity,
containing no vestige of sacred building,
rudeiy fenced with loose stone wall,
Iichen>stained, and often partly overgrown
with ivy, with perhaps two or throe haw-
thorns, and an ancient ash tree growing
within them, are frequently to be met
with. Possibly these small and solitary
Enclosures were dedicated to the same fu-
neral uses long before the dawn of Chris
tianity broke upon the island
A wild and narrow track, perhaps as
ancient as the place of sepusture Itself,
crossing, at a short distance from Macar-
thy's cabin, the comparatively modern
main road, leads over a little rising
ground 10 the burial place, which lies in
the lap of lonely hollow, seldom dis
turbed by the sound of human tread or
voice, or the rattle of cart-wheel
Mccarthy and the stranger walked I'D
the ancient and silent by-road, until they
reached the hollow l have mentioned -
Therej under the shadow Of an old twist
ed thorn tree, a stite crosses the loose
wall of the burial ground. At this style
they came to pause.
go on" said Mccarthy.
$50 you first," replied the stranger.
go first YOURSELF" said the farmer,
little peremptorily, making a stand, he
did not know why, upon the point Of
precedence.
'Arrah, man; go on, can't ye. and
don't be botherin' what are ye afeared
OFF, insisted Ryan.
''Now | tell you what it is l don't
understand you, nor what you're at but
divif foot I'll go over that wall till you
60 over it first,'' said Mccarthy, dogged-
ly.
TO be sure FL go over it first, if that
will please ye and what does it matter
who's first or who's last - he answered,
surlily. ''But you're the biggest omad-
boun ever set eyes on"
And, speaking to this effect, he crossed
the stiie, followed by Mccarthy, who
pointed out the grave, and forthwith the
stranger kneeled beside it, and began to
tell his beads and say his prayers, an OBJ
servance which usually lasts about a
quarter Of an hour. When the prayers
were ended, the farmer and Ryan, now
quite good friends again, returned to the
farm house, where the stranger had bis
supper with the family, and in the morn
ing, having eaten his breakfast be took
his leave,' and set out on his homeward
journey.
Irish ideas Of hospitality in the peasant
rank make it a r:iatter of obligation upon
the host to accompany his gusst for part
OF his way. Mccarthy, in compliance
with this courteous custom, set out with
the stranger, and about mile away from
MS house they entered little village,
where he shock hands with his guest, and
bid him farewell
But his visitor would rot part without
testliyIng his gratitude. according to the