The Portland daily press., 1881-05-13
THE PRESS.
Macha.
A Sketch If Irish Character.
lRosa Mulholland in Time. !

ESE ROSA Mulholland in Time.l
There is lone upper world among the
Connemara hills seldom visited by any way
farer from the ordinary paths of life. Noun
tains form bulwarks around it; the gates in
to il are narrow defiles between rugged crags;
the centres of its silent valleys are deep lakes /
cold aud gray as steel, or black 18th the |
shadow Of the rain clouds. By the waters
margin the dull, sullen earth with its gor-
9eous clothing of purple and embroideres of |
emerald green, upheaves in curious knobs |
and stretches away in wind swept levels. |
The PEAKS around take fantastic shapes, |
aud in twilight the place is like some region
of Hades, where dsembodied souls walk in |
shadow and muse upon the mysteries that |
death has unfolded to them.
Uncongenial as it appears to human life, |
there are fe8 inhabitants of this world of |
silent gloom and barren beauty. Here and |
there the infrequeRt traveller will come I'D |
on an isolated cabin built uf rude stone and |
rooted with the sod, hardly distinguishable |
from the heather-capped rock except for the |
curl of smoke that steals through hole |
from the hearthstone Within On a sum- |
mer morning an inquistive explorer of this |
lonesome world passed by one of these |
smoking novels, and while gazing on it in |
dismay, almost expecting to see a gnome or
mon ter issuing from it, was startled by the |
appearance of an exquisite face which |
shone on him for moment and then van
ished. The solitary rambler i'll so eerie (
spot was at the moment in an imaginative /
mood and open to all the influences of the
beautiful and supernatural and almost be- {
lieved that sprite of the mountain had |
crossed his path, and that she had a fateful
message for him in her eyes; but shaking
himself intoa more rational frame of mind,
lie went on his way, with only lingering
look at the cabin, which seemed to retreat
into The Businesses of the rock. Yet in
spite of common sense, the wild. beautiful
eyes of the mountain girl pursued him, the
message that lay mystery in their depths
bewitched him, and finally as the sun shot
forth long shafts of flame ana ances of gold
setting firily behind The cluster of blacken-
ing mountain peaks, he turned upon his
heel and reiraced his steps in the direction
of the enchanted hovel.
Macha, the owner of the beautiful face,
had withdrawn it hastily into the interior of
the cabin, scared at the unwonted sight of
stranger, as lowland jewellers might be
scared by ghost. The cabin was so poor,
that only for the red hearth and warm smell
of smoke, it might have been mistaken for
shed for cattle. The earthern floor was I'M
even and full of holes; the roof, of heather
and sticks, was blackened with smoke the
hearshstone was broken. One crazy table,
one chair, and two or three nondescrpt
seats; kettle, a battered tin-can, and a
few mugs and plates-these were the chief
contents of the dwellings, principal ROOM
Looking around, one might well ask by what
means life could be supported in this place.
Patches of potatoes that struggled for exis-
tence between bog and rock close by, and
black cutting that showed like an ugly
wound on the face of a distant level, and
was the -mine-these gave the only an
swer to such inquiry. An old woman sat
c,1s, in, fJ,n Of t1,a
and smoke-dried, like mummy, her dark
red garment and the yellow handkerchief
wound turban wise round her head, making
spot of subdued color in the murky pic
ture. The contents of a pot of potatoes had
been turned out on the table; and Macha,
who, with peculiar cry had summoned the
family from their work at the bog to dinner
stood in the middle of the floor, with slant
light falling across her from the sky, across
the mountain peaks, through the smoke
stained doorway. Her skirt of crimson
wool, spun by the grandame in the corner,
and dyed with madden by Macha herself
was short enough to show her white feet,
shining on the earthern floor. Over it she
wore short brown bodice, and few yards
of coarse yellow white calico were wound
around her shoulders and had been about
her head, but the drapery had fallen back in
a sort of cow behind her neck. No white
lily or golden rose was ever so
beautiful as the face of Macha,
crowned with its honey-colored hair,
set with eyes dark and blue, with a
look half sweet, half troubled. a rose-red
mouth, tinted to match flowers the girl had
never seen, and creamy, satin-smooth, dim
pied cheeks. The way in which her head
was set ON her shoulders, the pose of her
figure, and the movements of her bare white
arms recalled the goddesses in maable of the
early Greeks. With her almost superhumrn
beauty, where had Macha come from-to
battle with the elements for life, to grow
sun-tarned, weather-beaten. lean aud with
cred in the struggle to force the potato out
of the rock, and peat out of the reeking bog?
What was she doing in the dreary upper
world of the barren Irish hills? how could
she be the granddaughter of the unlovely
crone in the corner? and why had genera
tons of ignorance and hunger and rude toll
produced her? 1t must be that Nature had
created her for within, makingher a sort of
image and expression of the wild beauty of
this picturesque wilderness.
The after-glow of the sunset was abroad
when Macha went out again, to roam around
the lake in fashion of her own. A strange
amber-and-red reflection Illuminated one
side of the sky and the mountain peaks, in
tensified by gloomy fringes trailing along
the horizon. Delicate green tints over
spread the other; and in this fairer skyey
field had blossomed the round, white moon,
Frightening nomentarily, and shining
among the early stars like lily among dali
sizes. Earth and heaven were pictured in
the lake-the gemmed meadows and luridly
Illuminated deserts on high, the blackening
hills, and the moving shapes of orange,
brown and purple that caught and rent the
fringes of the slowly approaching night.
Macha clasped her hands over her head,
and gazed around her half fearfully, enjoy
ing and understanding the beauty of it all.
She had heard of shining city beyond the
gold and silver gates of the sun and the
moon; also, of earthly cities, wonderful, too,
but not so beautiful, that lay down below
the mountains in the busy world of men.
She meant to 60 to the one, but she did not
care to visit the others. Her mountain home,
with its inhabitants, contained the desires
of her heart. The old brown crucifix on the
cabin-wall was her passport to the final hap
ply destination of all patient souls, whittier
she and all she loved would depart when
the Master should send them message to
come. Nothing natural or supernatural dis
mayed or disguised her. If there were
spirits in the rocks and fairies in the lake,
the Almighty knew what they were doing
there, and everything wss all for the best.
"Macha, come in," called her mother from
the cabin. Something will get YOU"
Gay, mother, 1 am coming" said Macha;
of rock that seemed to be taking the shape
of something" The clouds are alive, and
move, and change-why should not the
rocksa Suddenly living person seemed to
emerge out of the rock, and come beside
her; and, startled, she would have fallen in
to the lake had not a strong arm seized her
and swung her into safety.
''Holy Mother! l nearly drowned you'll"
cried Macha, looking at the same traveller
who had passed the cabin in the morning.
81 nearly drowned you," said the stran-
ger, gazing in wonder at her beauty, which
seemed to have become unearthly, as the
still, warm glow from one side irradiated
her hair, and the greenish moonlight from
the other whitened her round cheek and the
drapery of her shoulder.
81 thought you were-him who lives down
in the lake." whispered Macha.
''Who is hep
She looked all around in the air, and her
lovely face caught thousand reflections of
fitting colors and lights. Then she signed
with her hand toward the dark lake.
''The water is Deep" she said, ''and there
is MANY thing down there But Won are