CHAP. IV. "Here in cool grot and mossy cell, AND truly a spot could not be found more consonant to the poet's visioned scene and fairy revels. The moon must indeed ascend high, e'er she overcome the impeding hills which in her mid course envelope in shade the beautiful amphitheatre on which we now enter. Notwithstanding 'leaves are forth and green,' and poets write of vernal airs and the 'sweet south,' still the chilly north-east, and 'Winter lingering in the lap of May.' teach us to feel that it is not 'summer weather,' and the timid Dryades of the Dargle remain yet unscared by the obstreperous enjoyments of holiday visitors. We have called the Dargle Dryades timid; but, on recollection, and considering how much their native and original virtues must have been corrupted by their acquaintance with city manners, timidity is, perhaps, the last of the rural and virgin qualities, which we should be justified in ascribing to them. But, be that as it may, our publication cannot wait for finer weather, and, such as it is, we must accompany Mr. Gregory Greendrake on his county Wicklow excursion. We last parted from him. at the Waterfall, which, if he remained there until now, he must have seen to greater advantage, consequent of the rains of the last week, than appears to have been the case by his own description. To our author's text we scrupulously adhere, and if his remarks, as a stranger, should at any time offend the prejudices of our readers, we request that they will not attach responsibility to us. "THE WATERFALL," (continues Mr. Greendrake,) "appeared to me more admirable for the scenery, of which it forms a part, than as a cascade. A natural and fine amphitheatre is formed by hills in some places clothed to their summits with fine oak trees; the area below presenting a diversified surface, ornamented and enriched, without the appearance of art, with clumps of aged oak, and beech, and ash, and trees of distinguished growth, singly towering in situations, where chance alone seems to have planted them. the face of the boldest of the hills which form the amphi On theatre, there rises, bare and smooth, but not entirely perpendicular, a rock, about 300 feet in height, down the face of which, in dry weather, flows a thin line of water, discharged from a mountain gully or ravine, and which, except immediately after heavy and continued rain, never swells to the dignity of a cascade. The waters fall into a deep basin, surrounded by massive and pointed rocks, and thence issues, over a broken bed, a pretty stream, adding much to the general beauty of the scene. About an hundred yards from the fall is a light wooden bridge leading to a smooth green platform, on which is erected a banquetting-house-the deer feeding in groupes, or singly reposing in the shade, pleasingly harmonized with the general features of the landscape. The Waterfall is much resorted to in fine weather by the inhabitants of Dublin; three parties were there on this day, who variously dispersed, some viewing the fall, others seated on the grass partaking of refreshments, gave an animating finish to the picture. From the fall we proceeded by a rough uneasy road, until we reached the foot of, what is called, the Long-hill, a well-merited appellation, the way, over a steep ascent, being rendered long and tedious by a rough and lonely road. "From the summit of the Long-hill is a beautiful and extensive view, looking down upon a rich variety of land and water, on one side overhanging the Waterfall, which we had just quitted; on the other, a wild heathy sheepwalk, thinly scattered with flocks, stretching to the great Sugar-loaf hill, and of which it formed the graduated base, and all in front a bird's eye view of the lovely scenery which we had been enjoying in detail. The Scalp, Enniskerry, Powerscourt, Charleville, &c., together with a partial view of the town of Bray, the hills of Killiney, the island of Dalkey, the sea animated with the silvery sail of many a passing ship, Howth hill, and the misty domes and spires of Dublin closing the view in one point; the expansive ocean, mingling with the horizon, terminating the other. It struck me that one of the most beautiful, though limited, race-courses in the world could be made on the Long-hill, the sod being firm and elastic, and the surface capable of being rendered smooth and practicable. "Having surmounted the hill, and procceded five miles more through a dreary, but not uninteresting country, we arrived, about seven o'clock, at ROUND-WOOD, our head-quarters, where we were to pass the night. Having been accustomed to the characteristic cleanliness and comforts of even the humblest class of inns in England, I was a little dismayed on driving up to a mean, dirtylooking, thatched cabin, at the entrance of a miserable hamlet. I perceived that my companion enjoyed, with a sort of mischievous pleasure, the impression which had been made upon me. "This promises but poorly, indeed; but I dare say we shall get some sort of beds, and, you know, sportsmen must not be too fastidious.' 'Very true, said I, field sports E of all kinds bring back their pursuers nearer to the primitive simplicity of the social state, but''O! a truce with your buts, they won't mend the matter a whit.' Just then an old slipshod sybil, with russet gown and coifed head, made her appearance at the door, while at the same moment two rustic attendants set about getting in our luggage. 'Hah! Judy, exclaimed my friend, 'how is it with you?'-Oh! blessed hour, and is it you, Mr. ; O! then, God knows if I a'n't glad to see you; myself thought, my darling, that we'd never lay eyes on you again, and it isn't that I say it, though it's myself have a right to say it, blessed be the giver of all good things, your equal wasn't here since; and how are all the young spriggans?' (sprigs) 'Quite well, Judy, and longing to see you.' The darling sradeens, (shreds or tags) may they ever be happy, and never fall into tempta'-(temption.) By this time we had entered the cabin, and had to pass through the kitchen to our reception room. The kitchen, in all the cabins of Ireland, is the common apartment of the house; immediately opposite to the street-door, as it is descriptively called in Ireland, was what, in Scotland, is named the 'hallan,' a mud wall, erected to defend the inner apartment and fire-side from the cold airs of the outer door; that fire-side was an ample space, with a wide wicker-worked chimney overhead, the inside of which was well hung with hams, gammons, and flitches, and around a blazing turf, or peatmoss fire, was seated most of the family, and perhaps, an humble traveller, taking the hasty refreshment of a |