A Collection of Ocean Waifs.
Queen Cliodhna and the Flower of Erin.
A Tale of our Pagan Ancestors.
By Mushra.
Cap 2.—The Dance.
The bold, manly and lighthearted youth of Ireland are, from time immemorial, celebrated for their love of athletic sports. Probably no game has taken such roots in the heart of our people, or has been so intimately connected with their habits and customs, as that of hurling, or "goaling," as the peasantry call it. The game is eminently calculated to develop the physical and enduring handihood of those engaged in it. Its conceded by all impartial men—natives as well as foreigners—that there is no other national sport known which so fully calls forth the powers of speed, strength, and agility as this truly Irish exercise. Through centuries of oppression the people have clung to their darling pastime, and, though penal enactments of various kinds and other restraints have been from time to time levelled against it, it is still the national sport of peasantry, particularly the south. Talk of the English game of cricket! Why, it is so tame and insipid when compared with the exciting exercise of goaling. At the time of which we write, it was the favorite amusement of peer and peasant; and to excel in goaling was nearly as honourable as to excel in war.
None of the young men of Ireland at that time was so celebrated for his prowess in hurling as Cormac Art, son to the chieftan of Iveragh, in Kerry. Young and ardent, and perfectly developed, he invited in his person the speed of the red deer of his native hills with the strength and boldness of a lion. Often, at the head of his Kerry hurlers, he challenged and overpowered, in many a well-contested goal, the hurlers of the neighbouring districts and lordships, until his name was as well known through the length and breadth of Ireland, as in his own Kingdom of Iveragh. When he was still in his early manhood, he, one holiday, after a goal in his neighborhood, went to see the village boys and girls amusing themselves at the dance. Perhaps it is necessary to state that the goal field is generally also the place where the Sunday patron is held; and hither all the rustic beaux and belles congregate; not on to join in the dance, and to carry on their innocent flirtation, and other amusements. As before stated, Cormac Art moved among the dancers, where, we may be sure, he was heartily welcome. Many a beautiful maiden that day would count it the greatest honor to be led out buy him to dance, and great was the excitement amongst the beauties as to who should be his partner. A little apart from the crown, but seemingly watching the movements of the dancers, stood a young girl of very fascinating appearance. No one knew who she was, or whence she came; nor did she seem to be anxious to make the
