The record-union., 1894-09-01
QUAINT IRISH STORIES.
Aubrey De Vere's RecoIIections of
Childhood.
His Grandfather Buys Little King
dom OF His Own in the Bristol
Channel.

written a series of recollections, which
well be published in two parts in the
Century. The first portion, dealing with
his childhood and boyhood, is printed in
the September number. and is full of
quaint stories OF the olden days in Ire
land. Mr.. De We're says:
My earliest recollections are of our
Irish home, Curragh Chase, and / always
see 1t bathed as in summer sunshine. 1t
was not once. however, as 1t is now. AT
| the bottom of the lawn there now spreads
a lake, but at that time it was rich
meadowland. divided by a slender
stream, with fair green hills beyond. The
pleasure-ground now blends insensibly
with the lawns and woods, but it had
then a wall around it, which, as my
father's old friend and school-fellow, sir
! Thomas Acland, said on visiting us, when
| both had left youth behind, gave it look
| of monastic seciuslon. 1t was then dl-
vided into four grassy spaces, as smooth
as velvet, and bright with many a Hover
bed. l can still see the deer park, and
the deer bounding from brake to brake of
! low-spreading oak and birch; the gather
! ing of the poor on Sunday evenings at
| the gates of the long ash avenue for their
rural dance, and the gay, though half
| bashful, confidence with which some
rosy, pretty peasant girl would advance
! party or some visitor at the big house,"
that courtesy being an invitation to dance.
There was also little open in the woods
in which the neighbors danced. Nor
| have l yet forgotten the veXation with
which / found myself once snatched up
and carried home to bed by one Of those
/ merry maids whose treSSeS tossed IN
| light,'' and who lost little time in return
! ing to the revel.
| 1t was a time at which oppositeS of all
| sorts oddly combined. The country gem
tlemen were looked up TO as so many lit
! tie princes, and the poor would have
| gladly adopted them as chiefs, like those
of old, had they cared to accept that posi-
| ton; yet there was great familiarity in
! the intercourse of classes. 1t was all
strangely mixed with simplicity of life.
| My grandmother drove about the park
with her four greys and an outrider,
| while my father, with whom she lived,
! had his iour blacks and an outrider; yet
| dinneY which was at o'clock would
| have h3en far from satisfactory to diner
out O. the present day. What stranger
would have thought ostentation was often
| necessity, for the roads were generally
carried over high hills. / well remem-
ber my grandmother's beautiful but mel
ancholy black eyes, her ways at once
authoritative and affectionate. and the
| reverence with which she was regarded
by all. Nor have l forgotten her good
| night to us children: God bless you,
child, and make good man of you;" nor
| the loud laugh once when the youngest
| of US, not to be outdone in civility, re-
sponded: GOD bless you, grandmother,
and make good woman of you"
| My grandfather had no taste for Iduels.
At a great public dinner, among the
''healths" proposed was that of Lord
! Castlereagh, to whom my grandfather,
then member Of the Irish Parliament,
was known to have a special aversion.
! All looked toward his seat, wondering
! how he would meet the dilemma, tor the
| refusal to drink to a toast could then be
expiated only by a duel. The glasses
! filled, he was the first to rise; he lifted
| his own and said: Here's to the health
of my Lord Castlereaghn' ~ adding, with q
significant expression of face, ''the Lord
! be troublesome to him p'
| My grandfather always gave the sagest
advice to a friend, but generally acted
! himself from whim. Once, when walk
ing in London street, he passed a room
| In which an auction was going on, and,
| attracted by the noise, entered it. The
property set up for auction was the
island of Lundy in the English Channel.
| he knew nothing whatsoever about il,
| but when the auctloneer proclaimed that
it had never paid either tax or 1.-THE, that
it Acknowledged neither King nor Parlia-
ment, nor law civil or ecclesiastical, and
that its proprietor was Pope and En-
peror at once in his own scanty domain,
he made a bid and the island was
knocked down to him. 1t turned out a
good speculation. 1t paid its cost by the
sale of rabbits, and whenever its pur-
chaser chanced to have picked a quarrel
with England and Ireland at the same
time it was hermitage to which he could
always retire and mediate. lie planted
there small Irish colony and drew up
for them very compendious code, in
cluding quaint law OF divorce in case oi
matrimonial disputes.
In money matters he was adventurous
and unlucky. He lost about 9l5. 900 al
cards. and then renounced them. He is
said to have also lost a bout halt the family
property through some trivial offense
given to his father. In other matters be
was more fortunate. During the war he
raised two regiments consisting of the
sons of farmers, his own tenants and
those of his neighbors. and bestowed a
Captains commission on his only son.
then boy of five. / remember my IA
ther describing the pride with which he
strutted about in his scarlet uniform
when the General rode out to review these
regiments. But where is the Captain ?''
exclaimed the veteran. Here [ am, -
shouted the child. 'But, my little man.
you are too young to tightp' Not at
ali, /" was the answer; ''iet the French
land, and''-wayIng his sword in the air
IL will cut Oft their headsp ~ Alas, the
hard-hearted Engllshman 'disbanded the
| Captain" as the poor people desert bed his
act, and the youthful warrior lost forever
the opportunity of hum bling that "Corsi-
can adventurer' who had called England
a nation OF shopkeepers," and affirmed
that the lions on her standard were only
leopards.
My grandfather was the most popular
of our country gentlemen, because be had
a great love 1or the poor, and always
helped them at pinch. a very old ten
ant once told me many stories illustrating
this side Of his character. Here is one ol
them. a young man was tried for mur.
der, having killed q member of a rival
faction in a faction fight. The Judge. re.
luctant to sentence him to death on ac.
count of his youth, turned TO him and
said: lis there any one in court whC
could speak as to your character?'' The
youth looked round the court, and ther
said sadly: 'Ehere is no man here. my
lord, that know At that my grand.
father chanced to walk into the Crane
Jury gallery. he saw at once how mat.
ters stood. He called out: "You are !
queer boy that don't know friend wher
you see himIn The boy was quick.
witted: he answered: "Oh, then, IT'S my.
self that is proud to see your honor here
this dayW "Weli.v said the Judge, .'Sir
We're, since you know that boy, will yol
tell us what you know of him?" 81 will
J my lord said my grandfather; .'anc
what can tell you is this-that from thu
very first day that ever saw him to thil