ting the door upon the rest. He then pronounces a funny marriage service of his own between them, and the husband smacks her first, and then the priest. Well, these two are married, and he places his wife upon his knee, for fraid of taking up too much room, you persave; there they coort away again, and why shouldn't they? The priest then goes to the next, and makes her name her husband; this is complied with, and he is brought in after the same manner, bnt no one else till they are called he is then married, and kisses his wife, and the priest after him: and so they're all married. But if you'd see them that don't chance to be called at all, the figure they cut-slipping into some dark corner, to avoid the mobbing they get from the priest and the others. When they're all united, they must each sing a song-man and wife, according as they sit; or if they can't sing, or get some one to do it for them, they are divorced." * - pp. 208, 209. "The next play is in the military line. You see, Mr. Morrow, the man that leads the sports, places them all on their seats-gets from some of the girls, a white handkerchief, which he ties round his hat, as you would tie a piece of mourning; he then walks round them two or three times, singing Will you list, and come with me, fair maid? When he sings this, he takes off his hat, and puts it on the head of the girl he likes best, who rises up and puts her arm round him, and they both go about in the same way, singing the same words. She then puts the hat on some young man, who gets up and goes round with them, singing as before. He next puts it on the girl he loves best, who, after singing and going round in the same manner, puts it on another, and he on his sweetheart, and so on. This is called the White Cockade. When it's all over, that is, when every young man has pitched upon the girl that he wishes to be his sweetheart, they sit down, and sing songs, and coort, as they did at the marrying. After this comes the Weds or Forfeits, or what they call putting round the button. Every one gives in a forfeit--the boys, a pocket handkerchief or pen-knife, and the girls, a neck handkerchief or something that way. The forfeit is held over them, and each of them stoops in turn. They are, then, compelled to command the person that owns that forfeit to sing a song to kiss such and such a girl-or to carry some ould man, with his legs about their neck, three times round the house, and this last is always great fun. Or, maybe, a young upsetting fellow will be sent to kiss some toothless, slavering, ould woman, just to punish him; or, if a young woman is any way saucy, she'll have to kiss some ould, withered fellow, his tongue hanging with age, half way down his chin, and the tobacco water trickling from each corner of his mouth. By jingo, many a time, when the friends of the corpse would be breaking their very hearts with grief and affliction, I have seen them obliged to laugh out, in spite of themselves, at the drollery of the priest with his ould black coat and wig upon him; and when the laughing fit would be over, to see them rocking themselves again so sad. The best man for managing such sports in this neighbourhood, for many a year, was Roger M'Cann, that lives up as you go to the mountains. You wouldn't begrudge to go ten miles, the couldest winter night that ever blew, to see and hear Roger. "There is another play, they call the Priest of the Parish, which is remarkably pleasant. One of the boys gets a wig upon himself, as beforegoes out on the flure, places the boys in a row, calls one his man Jack, and says to each- What will you be?' One answers, I'll be black cap;' another red cap;' and so on. He then says, has lost his considering cap-some say this, and some say man Jack !' Man Jack, then, to put it off himself, says Yes, you, Sir !' You lie, Sir !' Who then, Sir? black cap, then, doesn't say- Is it me, Sir ?' before the call him, he must put his hand on his ham, and get a pelt of the brogue. A body must be supple with the tongue in it. The priest of the parish that, but I say my Is it me, Sir?' Black cap!' If priest has time to "After this comes one they call Horns, or the Painter. A droll fellow gets a lump of soot or lamp-black, and, after fixing a ring of the boys and girls about him, he lays his two-fingers on his knees, and says, Horns, horns, cow horns!' and then raises his fingers by a jerk up above his head; the boys and girls in the ring then do the same thing, for the maning of the play is this: the man with the blacening always raises his fingers every time he names an animal, but if he names any that has no horns, and that the others jerk up their fingers, then they must get a stroke over the face with the soot. " 'Horns, horns, goat horns! -then he ups with his fingers like lightning; they must all do the same, bekase a goat has horns. Horns, horns, horse horns !'-he ups with them again, but the boys and girls ought not, bekase a horse has not horns; however, any one that raises them then, gets a slake. So that it all comes to this:-Any one, you see, that lifts his fingers when an animal is named that has no horns-or any one that does not raise them when a baste is mintioned that has horns, will get a mark. It's a purty game, and requires a keen eye and a quick hand; and, maybe, there's not fun in straking the soot over the purty, warm, rosy cheeks of the colleens, while their eyes are dancing with delight in their heads, and their sweeth breath comes over so pleasant about one's face, the darlings-Och, och! "There's another game they call The Silly Ould Man, that's played this way: A ring of the boys and girls is made on the flure-boy and girl about-houlding one another by the hands; well and good-a young fellow gets into the middle of the ring, as the silly ould man.' There he stands looking at all the girls to chuse a wife, and, in the mean time, the youngsters of the ring sing out Here's a silly ould man that lies all alone, That lies all alone, That lies all alone; Here's a silly ould man that lies all alone, He wants a wife, and he can get none. "When the boys and girls sing this, the silly ould wife from some of the colleens belonging to the ring. choice of her, she goes into the ring along with him, out man must choose a Having made the and they all sing Now, young couple, you're married together, You must obey your father and mother, And you may be sure this part of the marriage is not missed, any way. We have a very full and particular account of a hedge school, that peculiarity of Ireland with which so few have an opportunity of becoming familiar. The master and the establishment having been elaborately depicted, the author introduces us to both in the full tide of business. 66 66 "Come, boys, rehearse....(Buz, buz, buz.)....I'll soon be after calling up the first spelling lesson-(buz, buz, buz)—then the mathematicians -book-keepers-Latinists, and Grecians, successfully. (Buz, buz, buz) ...Silence, there below! your pens? Tim Casey, is'nt this a purty hour o' the day for you to come in to school at; arrah, and what kept you, Tim? Walk up wid yourself here, till we have a confabulation together; you see I love to be talking to you."...." Sir, Larry Brannigan; here, he's throwing spits at me out of his pen."....(Buz, buz, buz)...." By my sowl, Larry, there's a rod steeped for you."Fly away, Jack-fly away, Jill; come again, Jack—.” "I had to go to Paddy Nowlan's for tobaccy, Sir, for my father."....(Weeping, with his hand knowingly across his face-one eye laughing at his comrades)...." You lie it was'nt." If you call me a liar agin, I'll give you a dig in the mug." "It's not in your jacket." "Is'nt it?" "Behave yourself; ha! there's the masther looking at youye'll get it now.".... "None at all, Tim ?-and she's not afther sinding an excuse wid you?-what's that undher your arm?" 'My Gough, Sir.".... (Buz, buz, buz.) "Silence, boys. And you blackguard Liliputian, you, what kept you away till this?". "One bird pickin'-two men thrashin'one bird pickin'-two men thrashin'-one bird pickin'- "Sir, they're stickin' pins in me, here." "Who is? Briney." "I don't know, Sir, they're all at it.” “ Boys, I'll go down to yous. "I can't carry him, Sir, he'd be too heavy for me: let Larry Toole do it, he's stronger nor me; any way, there he's putting a corker pin in his mouth."....(Buz, buz, buz.) "Who-hoo-hoo hoo I'll never stay away agin, Sir; indeed I won't, Sir. Oh, Sir, dear, pardon me this wan time-and if ever you cotch me doing the like agin, I'll give you lave to welt the sowl out of me."....(Buz, buz, buz.) "Behave youself, Barny Byrne." "I'm not touching you." Yes you are; did'nt you make me blot my copy." "Ho, by the livin', I'll pay you goin' home for this."...." Hand me the taws." "Whoo-hoohoo-hoo-hoo-hoo-what'ill I do, at all at all! Oh, Sir dear, Sir dear, Sir dear-hoo-hoo-hoo." "Did she send no message, good or bad, before I lay on ?" "Oh, not a word, Sir, only that my father killed a pig yestherday, and he wants you to go up to day at dinner time." (Buz, buz, buz) "It's time to get lave, it is'nt, it is, it is'nt, it is," &c...." You lie, I say, your faction never was able to fight our's; didn't we lick all your dirty breed in Buillagh-battha fair?" "Silence there."....(Buz, buz, buz.) "Will you meet us on Sathurday, and we'll fight it out clane?" ha-ha! Tim, but you got a big fright, any how: whist, ma bouchal, sure I was only jokin' you; and sorry I'd be to bate your father's son, Tim. Come over, and sit beside myself at the fire here. Get up, Micky Do .... .... .... "Ha "Do noghue, you big burn't-shin'd spalpeen you, and let the dacent boy sit at the fire." "Hullabaloo hoo-hoo-hoo-to go to give me such a welt, only for sitting at the fire, and me brought turf wid me." "To day, Tim?" "Yes, Sir." "At dinner time is id?" "Yes, Sir." "Faith, the dacent strain was always in the same family.".... (Buz, buz, buz, buz.) "Horns, horns, cock horns: oh, you up'd wid them, you lifted your fingers-that's a mark, now-hould your face till I blacken you.". call thim two sods, Jack Lannigan? why, 'tis only one long one, broke in the middle; but you must make it up to-morrow, Jack; how is your mother's tooth; did she get it pulled yet?" "No, Sir." Well, tell her to come to me, an' I'll write a charm for it, that'ill cure her.... What kept you till now, Paddy Magouran?" "Couldn't come any sooner, Sir." "You couldn't, Sir-and why, Sir, couldn't you come any sooner, Sir?"...." See, Sir, what Andy Nowlan done to my copy."....(Buz, buz, buz.)...." Silence, I'll massacre yees, if yees don't make less noise."....(Buz, buz, buz.)...." I was down with Mrs. Kavanagh, Sir." "You were, Paddy-an' Paddy, ma bouchal, aren't you afeard to tell me that you go to see my wife behind my back-eh, Paddy ?"...." Masther, Sir, spake to Jem Kenny here; he made my nose bleed ?"-pp. 167-169. This may be regarded as a winter scene-for in the warm weather the site of the school varies to suit the convenience of master and scholars. During the summer season, it was the usual practice for the scholars to transfer their paper, slates and books, to the green which lay immediately behind the school house, where they stretched themselves upon the grass, and resumed their business. Mat would bring out his chair, and, placing it on the shady side of the hedge, sit with his pipe in his mouth, the contented lord of his little realm, whilst nearly a hundred and fifty scholars of all sorts and sizes, lay scattered over the grass, basking under the scorching sun in all the luxury of novelty, nakedness, and freedom. The sight was original and characteristic, and such as Mr. Brougham would have been delighted with--" The schoolmaster was abroad again." As soon as one o'clock drew near, Mat would pull out his Ring-dial, hold it against the sun, and declare the hour. "Now boys, to yer dinners, and the rest to play." "Hurroo, darlins, to play-the masther says its dinner time! whip-spur-an'-away-grey-Hurroo-whack-hurroo." "Masther, Sir, my father bid me ax you home to yer dinner," "No, he'll come to huzcome wid me if you plase, Sir." "Sir, never heed them; my mother, Sir, has some of what you know of the flitch I brought to Shoneen on last Aisther, Sir." This was a subject on which the boys gave themselves great liberty, an invitation, even when not accepted, being an indemnity for the day; it was usually followed by a battle between the claimants, and bloody noses were the issue. The master himself, after deciding to go where he was certain of getting the best dinner, generally put an end to the quarrels by a reprimand, and then gave notice to the disappointed claimants of the successive days on which he would attend at their respective houses. "Boys, you all know my maxim; to go, for fear of any jealousies, boys, wherever I get the worst dinner; so tell me now, boys, what yer dacent mothers have all got at home for me?" My mother killed a fat hen to-day, Sir, an' you'll have a lump of bacon and flat dutch' along wid it." "We'll 66 have hang beef and greens, Sir." "We tried the praties this mornin', Sir, an' we'll have new praties, and bread and butter, Sir." "Well, it's all good, boys; but rather than show favour or affection, do you see, I'll go wid Andy, here, and take share of the hen an' bacon; but, boys, for all that, I'm fonder of the other things, you persave; and as I can't go wid you, Mat, tell your respectable mother that I'll be with her to-morrow; and with you, Larry, ma bouchal, the day afther."-pp. 181-183. We think that the strictures in which our author indulges on hedge schools are unjust and uncalled for, nor were they by any means those nurseries of vice which he would represent them. We should say, indeed, on much more impartial authority than that we have now before us, that these establishments were more remarkable for producing no effect at all on the moral character of the population than they were for operating hurtfully upon it. But the mind of the writer is excessively distorted by his prejudices, and however successfully he may apply his talents to the promotion of his own views of religion, he has certainly, by his officious and unseasonable partizanship, unfitted himself for the character of an agreeable writer. We only hope that when next we meet him as a candidate for public favour, that he will allow his own good sense and feeling nature to have more influence than they have had on this occasion, in ordering the sort of appearance which he should make. ART. XI.-1. The Doom of Devorgoil, a Melo-drama. Auchindrane ; or the Ayrshire Tragedy. By Sir Walter Scott, Bart. 8vo. pp. 337. Edinburgh Cadell & Co. London: Simpkin & Marshall. 1830. .. 2. Twelve Dramatic Sketches, founded on the Pastoral Poetry of Scotland. By W. M. Hetherington, A. M. Edinburgh: Constable & Co. London: Hurst & Co. 1829. 3. Cain the Wanderer, a Vision of Heaven, Darkness, and other Poems. BySvo. pp. 1830. London: Whittaker & Co. 1829. 4. Vallery, or the Citadel of the Lake; a Poem. By Charles Doyne Sillery. 2 vols. 12mo. Edinburgh: Oliver & Boyd. 1829. 5. Adra, or the Peruvians, the Ruined City, &c. By G. P. R. James, Esq. 12mo. pp. 197. London: Colburn. 1829. 6. Oliver Cromwell, a Poem. In three Books. 12mo. pp. 192. Edinburgh Oliver & Boyd. London: Simpkin & Co. 1829. : 7. Poems, original or translated. By the Rev. W. Shepherd. 12mo. pp. 192. London: Longman & Co. 1829. 8. Repentance, and other Poems. By Mary Ann Browne. 8vo. pp. 118. London: Longman & Co. 1829. 9. Portraits of the Dead; to which are added Miscellaneous Poems. By N. C. Deakin, Esq. 12mo. pp. 320. London: W. Marsh. 1829. 10. The Portfolio of the Martyr Student. 12mo. pp. 191. Longman & Co. 1830. London : |