A Present for Sibbie.

215

visit to the circus, a basket was left at the rectory, directed as follows:

'MISS SYBIL RUSSELL,

'Elworthy Rectory.

'To be opened immediately. This side up.'

'A parcel for Sibbie! Where is she? Oh, do come and open it quick, Sib!' called out Rhoda, running up to the nursery in a great state of excitement.

Her sister was at that moment very impatiently undergoing a course of what the nurse called 'being made clean;' but on hearing Rhoda's news, she at once whisked herself out of that functionary's hands, and with her frock only half fastened, and shoeless and sockless, rushed downstairs to inspect her parcel.

'Oh, there's something alive inside; what can it be !' she exclaimed on taking it up.

'Here's a knife, cut the string and see,' suggested Rhoda.

The basket was opened, and a card fell out bearing this inscription: From the fat old gentleman, to the funny little girl. The best photograph of Fidelio to be obtained.' And then jumped out a dear little yellow dog, a trifle larger, but in other respects the very fac-simile of never-to-be-forgotten Fid! It would be hopeless to attempt to describe Sibbie's delight. She was perfectly radiant with joy, which was only damped by knowing that she could not express her thanks, either in speaking or writing, to the dear, kind, darling old man, who had made her this wonderful present.

'I must call him Fid,' she said, 'he is so like him ;'

and to her great surprise, the little dog answered perfectly to the name; and in his quickness with regard to learning tricks, and general sagacity, bid fair to be no unworthy follower of his clever namesake. For a long time after, Sybil lived in hopes of meeting the 'dear fat old gentleman' in her walks; but she never did, and at length she put him down in her own mind as a benevolent genie, who was allowed to take the form of an old man once every hundred years, in order to gratify the wishes of little girls; and for a very long time afterwards, she was particularly careful to pay every possible attention to all the fat old men who happened to come in her way.

M

CHAPTER XXI.

HARRY'S TUMBLE.

'KILLARNEY, July 18, 18—.

The

Y DEAREST OLIVE,-We have left the dear little "Una" for a short time, and have been spending a week at this lovely place, enjoying ourselves immensely. We have been out on the lakes all day long, and, oh, they are so beautiful! banks are green to the water's edge, with oak trees, yew, hazel, mountain ash, and arbutus, which is the most lovely shrub I ever saw-such a bright green. We had some difficulty in getting rooms, as the place is so crowded. The people, however, try to make up for all they don't give us, by a great many promises and big words. Irish people are so funny! The "Boots" at this hotel makes us laugh so much; he showed us our rooms when we first arrived, and said he would give us all kinds of "illigant things." Whereupon I asked him to turn my bed with the back to the light the next moment his coat was off, and it was done. Then Agnes asked for a chest of drawers, there being no cupboard or wardrobe of any kind in the room: away went the Boots, coming back with them on his shoulders!

'On his next appearance he was laden with ferns, which he wanted to sell: "The rale Killarney fern, mi leddy!" Seeing it was impossible to get anything for nothing, we promised to take some roots; but we didn't think quite so much of the Boots after this. He amused us, however, very much about some friends of Agnes's-the O'Connors. She asked him how far it was to D- House, where they lived.

""Och, shure, I know it well," he replied, "it's just close here, and a nice family they be; but ye'll not see them now at all, at all, for they're all in gaol!"

"In gaol?" said Agnes, looking quite scared at the idea; while Milly and I went into fits of laughter.

"Shure and indeed that's just it," went on the Boots; "Mrs. O'Connor, and her husband, and Miss O'Connor, they're all in Tralee gaol."

""But why-what have they done? Why are they in prison ?"

"Ah! not in

'At this the Boots burst out laughing. prison at all, at all! Mr. O'Connor, he's made governor of the gaol at Tralee, and they're all in residence there." So in this way the mystery was explained, and in a shorter time, too, than it usually takes to get to the root of the matter in this odd country. I found several letters from you waiting for me at the Post-office, and I hope Ethel got mine and Milly's on her birth-day. We should like to have been with her very much. Your letter about the dogs and monkeys has just come. What fun it must have been! Tell Sibbie we are longing to see her little Fid, and hope she will have taught it all kinds of tricks before we come home. How lucky she is, and what a dear old man that

The O'Donoghue.

219

must have been who sat opposite to her! We had a picnic yesterday on Ross Island, close to the ruins of the great O'Donoghue's castle. The boatmen told us all kinds. of absurd stories and legends as we rowed along, and several were about the O'Donoghue, who is a great hero in these parts. The only one I can distinctly remember is, that once every seven years, very early in the morning, before the sun has driven away the mists from the lake, the O'Donoghue comes riding over it on a beautiful snowwhite horse, fairies going before him strewing his path with flowers. When he arrives at his castle, everything is changed into what it used to be in olden times. Any one who is courageous enough to follow him over the lake, is spirited across dry-footed; and if he will ride on with him to the opposite mountains, where the O'Donoghue's treasures lie concealed, he receives a splendid present!

'Our boatmen are very disagreeable, noisy men, never quiet a moment, and I'm sure all they say can't be true. One of them told Cousin Herbert to-day that his brotherin-law was a member of Parliament, and that he had plenty of cousins in Belgium who were clergymen and doctors, and he might have been the same, only he had chosen to stay in "ould Ireland, and be a boatman!" He wound up by asking for a cap with a gold band, or some other "nice present!"

'I can only send you a short note to-day, as we are just going to start for Kenmare, and then on to Glengarriff, where we are to meet the yacht.-Your affectionate

sister,

'HILDA.'