After leaving the castle we wander awhile through the Groves of Blarney, which are noted for their beauty and their flowers, and then take the railroad through southern Ireland to Bantry Bay, whence we go by coach over the mountains to Killarney. Our ride is through one of the poorest parts of the country. The mountains are covered

with verdure, but they are rocky and wild. There is little cultivated land, and the cabins of the poor are squalid and

mean.

We are followed everywhere by beggars. Bareheaded, barelegged girls and boys, ranging in age from four to sixteen, spring out of the bushes and run after our stage, holding out their hands and saying, "Penny if you plaze, sor; penny if you plaze, miss?" They keep up this cry for miles, running side by side with the stage, as fast as

the horses. Some of the boys run in advance of us and stand on their heads, balancing their bare legs in the air until the stage comes up, when they drop to their feet and hold out their hands for money. If we throw down a penny the little ones scramble and fight for it among themselves, and then dart on to beg for more. Many of the children are almost naked, and none have hats or shoes. We find more beggars about the beautiful lakes of Killarney, and they besiege us in every part of southern Ireland, and even in Dublin itself.

III. CENTRAL AND NORTHERN IRELAND.

W

E take the cars at Killarney and go north to Limerick and Galway, important little cities with fine harbors on the west coast, and then cross Ireland to Dub

lin, passing over the great central plain. Much of our journey is through vast swamps filled with peat. These are the bog lands of Ireland. They cover a space about as large as Connecticut, or almost one seventh of the whole country.

"We see women carrying great baskets of it."

Peat is a spongy, vegetable matter which might be called half-grown coal. In some places the peat is almost as hard as coal, and in others soft with many little fibers matted together. the peat beds are thin, and in others they are thirty or forty feet thick.

In some of the swamps

Peat is the chief fuel of the Irish. We see women carrying great baskets of it home on their backs, and as we cross a bog we see men getting the peat out. They are cutting the soft, wet stuff up into bricks, and laying them out to dry in the sun. Later they will carry them off to the cabins for their winter fuel, or send them to the towns and cities for sale.

In some

Peat makes a very hot fire, although it does not blaze up like wood. It smolders away, brightening into a glow under a draft, and giving out a pale blue smoke. places logs and branches of fir and oak are found in the peat. These are very inflammable, and they burn so brightly that they have the place that pine knots had in our pioneer times, and the peasants sometimes use them for candles.

Many of the bogs are now being drained, for there is rich soil under them, and when the peat has been once cut away, they make excellent farms.

Central Ireland is a land of fine farms. The country is cultivated like a garden, and there are many great estates with thousands of tenant farmers. Some of the farms are quite large and their tenants apparently live very well. The houses grow better as we come nearer Dublin, and as we continue our travels we find that Ireland has a large population of rich and well-to-do people as well as of poor.

Dublin is a magnificent city. It is as large as Cincinnati, and it is one of the most beautiful cities of Europe. It is the capital of Ireland, being the home of the Lord Lieutenant, who is appointed by the ruler of the United Kingdom to represent the British government there. It is the chief social center of the country. It has magnificent homes, libraries, and schools, a famous monument, fine statues, and other evidences of culture and wealth.

Dublin is also noted for its manufactures and commerce. It lies on the Irish Channel, not far from the mouth of the Liffey, whence all parts of the country can easily be reached by water or rail, and just where it is easiest to bring in goods from England or to send them across to that country. It makes great quantities of beer, whisky, and porter for export, and is also famous for weaving a kind of dress goods which is sold in our American stores. This goods is Irish poplin. It is of silk and wool, and although not so fine as the finest of silk, it is almost as beautiful and will wear twice as long.

We spend some time in strolling about through the city, visiting the great stores in Grafton Street, where we each buy some poplin and handkerchiefs of Irish lace as presents to take home to our friends. The lace is wonderfully fine.

It is made by hand, stitch by stitch, on cushions, by the women and girls in their cabins. It takes a long time to make a lace curtain, and a girl may be employed for a month on a single fine handkerchief.

Leaving the stores, we visit the Bank of Ireland, which was built more than a hundred years ago, and then go to

the castle where the Lord Lieutenant lives. We next photograph the statues of Tom Moore, the poet, and the Duke of Wellington, both natives of Dublin, and then take a walk through the grounds of Trinity College, meeting scores of students in black caps and gowns, and remembering that Oliver Goldsmith, the poet, and Dean Swift, who wrote "Gulliver's Travels," were once students here.

Later we rest ourselves in the great cathedrals of Christ Church and Saint Patrick, and then go out to Phoenix Park, which the Irish say is the finest pleasure ground of the world. It has large fields for cricket and golf, and miles of beautiful drives through the trees. In the woods there are many red deer, so tame that they eat from our hands and allow us to pet them.

Leaving Dublin, we make a rapid trip through northern Ireland to visit the Giant's Causeway before going to Belfast to take a boat for Scotland. We travel by rail all day long, passing through many towns and numerous villages. The beggars are fewer and the people seem more prosper