, 1872-05-23
A pREsENTlMENT.


About sixty years ago q remarkable
case was tried at the criminal side, ill
the county of Cork.
The writer wishes to pledge himself at
the outset to the literal authenticity of
the narrative, which he heard from the
lips of the late eminent queens counsel
George Bennett, at that time junior
on the Munster circuit, and himself an
eyewitness and an attentive listener at
the trial.
On fine summer evening, when the
rustic hour of supper was approaching,
there appeared at the door of comfort
able thatched cabin, of large dimen-
sions such as the class of persons
known in Ireland as strong farmers ;"
usually inhabit, a stranger, dressed in
the then peasant costume, corduroy
shorts, frieze coat, caubeen and brogues,
and with blackthorn stick in his hand
The wayfarer entered with the usual
solutions, "God save all here" and
asked if this was not Denis Mccarthy S
house. The women who We're in the
cabin told him it was, and asked him
civilly to sit down, and take an air ui
the fire." and with this invitation he
complied, entertaining his new acquain-
tances the while with such news as he
had collected while ON his journey.
The man was dark featured, of middle
stature, and of square and powerful
build.
In little while Denis Mccarthy, re-
turning from his fields, entered his cab
in door, and the stranger introduced
himself as his cousin, Phil Ryan, from
Cappaghmor, 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, ac-
cording to Irish usage, over the grave
of a certain kinsman of both, who died
two or three weeks before, and was
buried in the neighboring graveyard.
Mccarthy received his cousin al
though he had never seen his face be-
fore, with the customary cordially of
clanship, and told h IN that he must sup
aud sleep in his house that night, and
eat his breakfast ther before setting out
in the morning OH his homeward Jour
ney.
To all this the stranger consented,
and then, as he was ul,acq uainted with
the situation of the gravf yard, he asked
Mccarthy, if it was far 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
WIS agreed that they should set out at
once, and return in time for supper.
In the south of ireland simple burial
places. probably of immense antiquity,
containing no vestage of a sacred build
ing, rudely fenced with a loose stone
wall, lichen-stained, and often over
grown with ivy, with perhaps two or
three hawthorns, and an ancient ash
tree growing with them, are frequently
to be met with. Possibly these small
and solitary Enclosures were dedicated to
the same funeral uses long before the
dawn of Christianity broke upon the
island.
A wild and narrow track, perhaps as
ancient as the place of sepulture itself,
crossing at short distance from McCar-
thy's cabin, the comparatively modern
main load, leads over a little rising
ground to 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 car-wheel.
Mccarthy and the stranger walked up
the ancient and silent by-road, until
they reached the hollow have mention
ed. There, under the shadow of an old
twisted thorn tree, stile crosses the
loose wall of the burial ground. At this
stile they came to a pause.
go on," said Mccarthy.
$50 you first replied the stranger.
eco first yourself" said the farmer
little preemptorially. making stand,
he did not know why, upon the point of
precedence.
Cara man go on. can'tye, and don't
be botherin'; what are you afeared of p
insisted Ryan.
"Now 1 tell you what it is; l don't
understand you, nor what you're at;
but divil bit I'll go over that wall till
you go over it first" said Mccarthy
doggedly.
The man laughed and looked angry.
"To be sure I'll 60 over it first IT
that'll plase ye; and what does it matter
whose first or whose last p answered
he surlily. But you're the biggest
omadhoun 1 ever set eyes on"
And, speaking to this effect, be cross
ed the stile followed by Mccarthy, who
pointed out the grave, and forthwith
the stranger kneeled beside it, according
to Irish Gust ON, and began to tell his
beads and say his prayers, an ooser-
vance which usually lasts about quar-
ter of an hour.
When the prayers were ended the far