Morning journal and courier., 1888-10-13

CohtOuEs duO 1oF0 you CrOeS an ancient bridge, under which the streams foam and thunder down. Beyond you may stand and look either way, to the spires of Derry or the white, clustered homes of Mo- vile, with farm land, copse and villas with out number, set like bright fringes beneath you and above the rippling edge of the tough. And to the east across the broad ex- panse of waves there Is an ever changing view of beauty and splendor, from the cliffs Of Benyevenagh, past the sharp escarpments Of the basaltic bluffs reaching towards the Ballinascrecn mountains of Derry, with the dim far heights of green Antrim beyond Nor is there lack of life on the way, nor in any scene upon which your eyes may rest Foot-sore pilgrims to the holy wells trudge patiently beside you. Small farmers with small produce on their carts and bit of pos teen underneath their vests roar songfully by. Ragged, all but naked children from the cabins on the cliffs, and with their great blue eyes full of au unutterable longing, stand at the roadside like like the wild hedge weeds that they are Beggars humble and
 moan and pursue until conquest or suQges-
 tive twist of your blackthorn. Droves of
 swine for the weekly Derry fair meet you
 and the handsome grunters-for the real
 Irish pig ready for the "fesher" is as pink
 and as fair as brand new babe-are long
 time getting out ot sight. A doctor or an
 agent in his smart trap makes the road ring
 with his horses furious gait ss he comes or
 goes. Archaologists or less serious pleasure
 parties speed by in their hearse-like wago-
 nettes. And the jaunting car, long life to
 it for the veal and woe of it's fiery passages,
 with every manner of men and women on
 every manner of mission, flashes repeatedly
 across your vision like a eaparisoned meteor
 ploughiDg the earth at mid day. The great
 Lough is alive with small craft at all quests,
 and with smart tugs and tenders hurrying
 with passengers and mails from the huge
 ocean steamers anchored off Neville. The
 white g1eams of lighthouses and the red
 bulbs and shouts of fog-bells and whistling
 buoys contrast prettily with the blue waters
 of the tough. And your way leads through
 strange sounds of strange life, half caught
 from cabin above and villa below, winseme
 as the murmurs of some pleasant dream.
 passed night and day in bright, clean,
 mountain sheltered Neville and vicinity, in
 the meantime strolling to the end of the
 coast roadway to Inishowen Head, on the
 way passing the ruined fortress of the
 O'Dohertys' and the great Dungaree light
 house; for from the half mountain behind
 the Head a marvellous view can be had with
 glass on clear day, embracing the entire
 sweep of Lough Foyle for nearly thirty
 miles to the southwest; the grim Magilligan
 Point at the Lough's entrance from the sea;
 Portstewart upon the cliffs; the grand head-
 lands of Portrush; the romantic, ocean
 washed Skerries; the famous Giants Cause
 
 Scotland the dark purple outlines of Rath-
 lin's Island beyond. But longing came on
 me to know the people behind the noun
 tains. I talked about them with everybody
 ia little Neville who would talk with me.
 t'They're naygurs altogether" said the
 sergeant, dispoaing of the entire 1nishewen
 peasantry with a cantemptuous snort. "Be- likes, ye'v'e no business at all amongst thim."
 s'They're the divirs own smugglers from Stroove to Inch;" said the blue-bloused coast-guard, Illustrating at one stroke the mighty services to good government he rem dered.
 ''They're both paid by the blaokgusrd governmint that kspes the poor souls un- der!" said an old fish-wife, with arms ss big as one's legs akimbo, and without the knowledge of fear in her brave old face. That settled the whole matter with me for a tramp over and among the mountains, into whatever luck or adventures it might lead me. was whole day walking the fifteen miles through the wild and interesting heights to Cardonagh. This is the mountain village capital of the entire picturesque re- | zion. "A thousand miles from nowhere; bat ! the cinter of the world, Sirl' was the lively | description voucheafea by tatterdemalion whom found propping up the ancient mar ket walls with his brawny shoulders. And so it is to a host of souls who to their tiny holdings for bare existence, and who never had vision save in the hearts longing beyond the meager activities of this quaint and nest l like spot. But go where you may in any di- rection from Cardonagh, by white winding l roadway, by hedge-path beaten trough-hke ! by bare feet through the centuries, by moun- tain trail to the rocks and heather, or by winding rivers that have strange thrills in their voices as they call through the echoing glens, you will find the cruel picture of Irish white slavery illustrated as l would to God every Englishman, as well as every true American, could see it for himself. There would be but one party on the "Irish quss- ton" ever after. Lord This, or Sandy That, Esq, owns every rood of land, conhscated from the forefathers of these who now serve them under system of serfdom incalcula- bly, more cruel in it's endless starvings and degradations than the worst form of African slavery ever known to America. Why do these miserable souls endure itf How can they get away from iti Holdings of misera- ble land, chiefly of peat banks and rock, have been, through the ceaseless labor of these already and always hmit-taxed toil- ings, advanced in value by transformation into passably arabic soil. But that has new CT benefited the Irish slave. Wherever this labor has increased the value of the holding the merciless master has advanced the rent,
 keeping it ever precisely at this mere life
 saving limit to the tenant. There are no
 ''good" landlords in Ireland. It is an in controvertible and horrible fact that every acre of soil in Ireland is rented for the last penny it will produce and keep so11 and body of the producer together.
 In three days time I had visited nearly two hundred huts and cabins in the wilds of Inishowen. The mere mention of the words, s'I am from America" was a magical talis- man opening every door and heart. "Heav'n bless ye for thatl" 'Raally-now-an' ye're' tellin' mef' "May ye be saved for the great journey homei" "Ah, now, but that's
 the fine country altogether" 'tAn' did ye
 see my Dennis''' 'fWor ye comin' up wid my o1ld man, sirs' "Faith, but our Katy $ therel" "May the blessed saints show ye our Phadrick whin we're backl"-and an | hundred like greetings and questions, with ! tremors from the region of tears in them, | were showered upon me; and may be for ! given where hearts hunger is counted nc \ crime, for the mild and comforting lies that \ told them. But one of the whole simple host, a poor old woman living alone with \ goat and 8 pig in hut, turned upon me | Had seen her Michael darlin', who the next | blissed year would bring her outi I had mol | but would find him. She was as e June day of delight until that fatal denial. No matter | for my brilliant expedition of Americs's ge ography, it's wide expenses, it's numberles cities. An, where Michael was was he ! America entirely. And God bless the tru | old sould of a mother for 1t, though she dit slam the door upon me and glare unassaila ! ble defiance through the little window iron her sterm, white face until the frills of hel ancient cap danced like wind-swept heather ! among the hills.
 Three things were made most impressiv in these Inishowen wanderings; the hospi- tality which was often bewildering; the ex
 traordinary bodily frames of some of thes lowly folk; and touching, doggedly patien
 faith in the final freedom of Ireland iron
 British domination. Who can ftly tell o
 this hospitalityg What other race on eartl
 is like this one, which individually and col
 lectively, with not 8 shilling between tn
 | body and the t'welf at the dure," will beg
 ! wheedle, blarney, forgivably lie and alnos
 physically compel you to partake of thei eeneroeitys Not one. But of this tende , hearted trait of the Irish I shall have nor to say at another time. Often upon tn , road, occasionally among the peat bankf , sometimes in the fields, and often of even |. inps in the cabins. have come upon men ( really. giant stature. And have wondered
 realizing their half starved lives, what spler did form of men they would not be had the | l a tithe of the comfort in housing, care an . l food enjoyed by the meanest of their land , lords dumb brutes. All these things will 2 [ rumbling through your head and heart if yo