Iron County register. [volume] (Ironton, Iron County, Mo.) 1867-1965, 1886-10-07
LAKES OF KILLARNEY.
Beauties of the Country Surrounding II
Far-Famed Waters.

Beauties of the Country Surrounding the
Far-Famed Waters.
When Lord Palmerston spent a brief
holiday in Ireland his host apologized
for the rain (Which rained every day.
as shower; and twenty years after. in
writing to Lord Carlisle, Lord Palmer
ston added: s'P. S. Is that shower over
yet?" The shower continues still, with
twenty years added to the original
score, and to see fair Erin Alright it
must be visited in macintosh. Thus
equipped, the gentle dews of Heaven
may be defed, as they fall from a mild
gray sky, laced here and there with a
sunbeam. Immediately on reaching
Killarney the traveller becomes absorbed
in the great hotel system, which is the
same in Paris, Geneva, Munich, and
probably in every corner of the habit
able globe. A man is shot dead ten
miles off in Tralee, but the table d'hote
is conducted on the same safe principles
as if it were in London. The shaggy cor
ner-boys lounge in the streets of killar-
ney as in Dublin; but the spruce walters
of the great hotels do their work i'll the
last fashion of Italy or Hamburg; and
the hotel, situated in the fairest position
to catch the first morning rays upon the
unruffied luster of the lake, is as vast q
pile of dollars as energy and capital can
make it. The lake itself differs from
the great continental waters in many
qualities. Tones of pure cobalt take
the place of the striking yellow and
strong high lights of foreign lands.
There is no sparkle in the sunshine;
the slow, calm movement of the light
travels over the vast and plumy noun
tains as if the side of lantern were
opened and shut, now disclosing a gen
tie slope of fervid green or purple
heather, now the thick rounded growth
of trees, of a brilliant emerald; or as the
light falls on the hill tops, discovering
the heights of purple slate and gray
stone, which wall in a foreground of ex-
quisitely humid myrtle-green, every
changing hue softly given back in the
waters of Killarney. The tint of gray,
dear to Sir Edwin Landseer, spreads
over the sky, opening on pale transpar
ent azure; indicative of serene heights
above. The billy distances retreat
coyly into the background, unlike for
eign mountains, which are cut out in
bright lines on the eyesight. Fantastic
shapes traced in purple on the horizon
mark Magillicuddy's the second i is
silent) Reeks, and beyond them the
Imagination passes over seven miles
easily and quickl to the Atlantic, which
Joins the Killarney waters.
1t is sad that, once in seven years, in
the dew of May morning, the great
O'Donoghue rises from his lair under
the depths, and, drawn by milk-white
coursers, drives over these shining CULTS
to a cave, where old men become young
again if they duly light upon the spot.
Once upon time, too, all the lake was
a green valley watered by a fairy well.
The well was closed by large gray
stone, and the condition by
which it was held decreed that
no one-maid, wife or widow
should leave the spring unsealed at sun
set. A girl, due at the trystng-place,
forgot to close the well; and as the sun
set the water rose, and wellel forth so
abundantly that not only the maiden
and her lover, but all the township,
were destroyed and melted away under
the fairy tempest. But, at evening,
once. every seven years or so, pinnacle
and battlement rise from the waves; for
one brief minute the lover clasps his
sweetheart to his breast, the hum of the
spinnine-w and the lowing of cattle
rise from the drowned sett ement, till in
another instant all is swept away and
the radiant waters close again over their
secret. These and scores of other
legends people the lakes and their sur
rounding hills, side by side with tourists
in checked suits and waterproofs, and
with the herd of touts on horseback or
on foot, selling potheen, morning dew,
goats milk, coarse knitted socks, inlaid
gewgaws, or trafficking in conclusions
of cannon and the racket of penny
whistles, in order to rouse an echo.
There is a moral in the fact that coarse
instrument struck within the embrasure
of the hills repeats itself in dozen
sweet echoes of fairy music; such is the
power of the lake and mountain. 1t is
to such music that the fair outlines of
Howth and of Dublin bay fade upon the
SKY, and the traveller addresses himself
to his berth and his reflection. -Lond0as