The Press., 1895-01-10
MACH
By ROSA MULHoLLAND.


 There is lone upper world among the Connemara hills seldom visited hy any wayfarer from the ordinary paths of life. Mountains form bu1w arks around it; the gates into it are narrow defiles between rugged crags; the cen ters of it's silent valleys are deep lakes. cold and gray as steel or black with the shadow of the rainclouds By the wa ter's margin the dark, sullen earth, with it's gorgeous clothing of purple and em- broideries of emerald green, upheaves ill curious knolls and bosses or stretches away in wind swept levels. The peaks around take fantastic shapes, and in twilight the place is like some region of l hades, where disembodied souls walk in shadow and muse upon the mysteries that death has unfolded to them
 Uncongenial as it appears to human life, there are 8 few inhabitants of this world of silent gloom and barren beauty. Here and there the infrequent traveller will come upon an isolated cabin built of rude stone and rooted with the sod, hardly distinguishable from the heather capped rock except for the curl of smoke that steals through a hole from the hearthstone within. On a summer morn ing an inquisitive explorer of this lone- some world passed by one of these smok- ing novels, and while gazing on it in dismay, almost expecting to see a gnome or mons >er issue from it, was startled by the app 7arance of an exquisite face which shone on him for moment and vanished. The solitary rambler in so eerie spot was at the moment in an imaginative mood, and open to all in- fuences of the beautiful and supernat- ural, and almost believed that Q sprite of the mountain had crossed his path, and that she had a Hateful message for him in her eyes, but shaking himself into more rational frame of mind he went on his way, with only lingering look at the cabin, which seemed to re- treat into the fastnesses of the rock. Yet, in spite of common sense, the wild beautiful eyes of the mountain girl pur sued him, the message that lay mys- tery in their depths bewitched him, and finally, as the sun shot forth long shafts of flame and glances of gold, setting fierily behind cluster of blackening mountain peaks, he turned upon his heel and retraced his steps in the direc tion of the enchanted hovel.
 Macha, the owner of the beautiful face, had withdrawn it hastily into the interior of the cabin. scared at the un- wonted sight of stranger, as lowland dwellers might be scared by ghost. The cabin was so poor that, only for the red hearth and the warm smell of smoke, it might have been mistaken for shed for cattle. The earthen floor was un- even and full of holes; the roof, of heather and sticks, was blackened with smoke; the hearthstone was broken.
 One crazy table, one chair and two or three other nondescript seats, kettle, pot, battered tin can, and a few mugs and plates-these were the chief contents of the dwellings, principal room. Looking around, one might we'll ask by what means life could be SUD- ported in this place Patches of pota- toes that struggled for existence between bog and rock close by, and a black cut ting, that showed like an ugly wound on the face of distant level and was the turf mine these gave the only an swer to such inquiry.
 An old woman sat spinning in the corner of the cabin, lean. and smoke dried, like mummy, her dark red gar ment and che yellow handkerchief wound turban wise round her head making spot of subdued colon in the murky picture The contents of a pot of potatoes had been turned ont on the table, and Macha, who, with peculiar cry, had summoned the family from their work at the bog to dinner, stood on the middle of the floor, with slant light falling on her from the sky, across the mountain peaks, through the smoke stained doorway. Her skirt of crimson wool, spun by the grandame in the cor ner, and dyed with madder by Macha herself, was short enough to show her white feet, shining on the earthen floor. Over it she wore @ short brown bodice, and few yards of coarse yellow white calico were wound about her shoulders and had been about her head, but the drapery had fallen back in a sort of cowl behind her neck.
 | No white lily or golden rose was ever so beautiful as the face of MacE:., crowned with its honey cOlored hair, set with eyes dark and blue, with a l look half sweet, half troubled, 8 rose red mouth, tinted to match flowers the girl had never, seen, and creamy, satin smooth, dimpled cheeks. The way in which her head was set on her shoul- ders, the pose of her figure and the movements of her white bare arms re- called the goddesses in marble of the early Greeks. With her almost super human beauty, where had Macha come from battle with the elements for