The Worcester spy. [volume] (Worcester, Mass.) 1898-1904, 1899-02-12

per wished to clear to improve his es-
tate.
Leaving this curious little street. with
It's solitary but sympathetic inhabitant,
we drove down the road for probably
quarter of a mile, 20 the ruins of the
famous inn.
This hosiery has been a total wreck
for many years; scarcely a foot of wall
remains. The hawthorn bush has long
since been scattered to the four quar-
ters OF the globe; but in front of the
pile Of stones which marks the place
overshadowing It with hospitabIe pro-
tectlng branches, stands a huge oak
which gives character to the spot This
inn was doubly famous but not merely
We're its attractions sung in the poem
but it was also one of the scenes in that
inimitable comedy She Stops to Con-
quer This tavern was the haunt of
Tony Lumpkin and his boon ccmpan-
ions: one of the most characteristic
features of the play is Tonys song in
praise of the attractions at The Three
jolly Pigeons.
Beyond these ruins on another road is
the new Three Jolly Pigeons it is a
white. dilapidated tavern that looks
venerable enough to be the original
Even over the door hangs a weather.
beaten sign which displays three pig
cons, conViVially disposed 1t is not
however, the original sign. The land
lord confessed, in a momebt of weak
ness, that ii was new within his time.
The present inn is Of the lowest type
OF Way-side tavern, for it is small,
dirty, and uninviting to an extreme de-
gree The travelling public has not yet
began to pour into Lissoy as it has done
into Ayr. The reason is easy TO guess.
Ayr is beautiful place on the edge
of the sea; 1t is redolent with the mem
cries of Burns. Lissoy is in the heart
of deserted forlorn Ireland, which at
its best could not have been very
attractive place. Then, too, Burns
spent his lifetime near Ayr: every inch
of country is associated with him or
with his poems, while, so far as is
known, Goldsmith never saw Lissoy af-
ter 1152, when he was "a years old
This new tavern faces that portion of
the village which has been thoroughly
destroyed. Where once houses stood
and streets ran. now are bread cuItivat-
ed acres the work of destruction has
been complete There is absolutely
nothing here to suggest that once a
thriving village stood or this ground:
were it not for the proofs presented, it
would be impossible of belief. Why this
village should have been selected for
destruction seems a mystery as one
stands by the roadside at the Three
Jolly Pigeons and looks over the rolling
hills that stretch away everywhere.
General Napier could certainly have
found plenty of unoccupied land around
Lissoy without removing this village;
it is one of those strange destinies that
seem so hard to understand Certain
ly It's removal was a benefit to human
ity, for it suggested the idea of the
poem to Goldsmith, and gave him A
theme which he beautifully developed.
Possibly, however the e1-icted villagers
did not view it in that broad human
itarian aspect.
Beyond the meadows, along the edge
OF the brook, number of ruined hou-
oes still remain. Here is still pointed
out the busy mill'; if ever a spot be-
lied It's name it was this ruined. des-
olate building. Wandering along this
sluggish little stream, I saw coming
to meet me over the hill one of the
constabulary police, with whom this
region is overrun the streets Of Ath-
lone are filed with these sombre-hued
athletic. notwithstanding officers,
and on the way to Lissoy we passed by
the roadside several of their barracks.
lie came down. evidently intending to
investigate my movements, but he said
nothing, and became so embarrassed
that he could scarcely walk away. sim
ply because | took his picture as he
app odNii0s AZ he uiSd DptdItQ over the
hill ] caught rear view Of him; the
click of the kodak added still further
to his confusion. He was evidently
deeply impressed with the capabilities
of Yankee nerve.
Lissoy is not as romantic in its sur
roundings as an American village, to
which it could be compared; 1.-THE
ruined village Of Allaire," near Spring
Lake Beach, New Jersey, although ii
is much smaller than LisSoy, being
really only the ruins of a factory and
its neighboring cottages, is far more
picturesque and suggestive of ruin.
Here in this Jersey village stands row
after row of deserted houses, with grass
grown streets, dramatically pictur-
esque, but Of course 1t lacks the great
romantic history of Lissoy; John Roach
was not oliver Goldsmith. Fortunately
for us, however, the Immortality OF
Goldsmith's famous poem does not de-
pend on it's fidelity of description to
a little Irish hamlet. It's popularity
depends upon the fact that it touches
responsive chord in every normal hui
man heart; the love of home, the mem
cries Of childhood, the desire to see
again the scene OF ones youth, are all
touched by Goldsmith. He simply
looked into his heart and wrote down
what We're its longings.
Griggs-Haye you heard the news? Poor
old Blinks has shot his arm off hunting
Briggs-Oh, Lord! What a fool i ami /
might have known.
Why, heavens and earth, mani What's
the matter now?
Matteri Bah! Haven't gone and bet
dozen bottles of champagne that Blinks
wouldn't hit anything = Brooklyn Life.
lie sat for hours In a shed
And watched two bruisers fight;
The temperature was forty-fiVc
But II suited him all right.
That evening when he reached hig home,
lie stormed and fIlmed and tore