acquaintance of any person present. Her dress, though not much superior to that of the village maidens, was yet worn with a sort of studied influence,—just so as to attract attention, without violating any of the rules of decorum. Altogether this was an aid to an air of mystery about her, which could not fail to be perceived by the most casual observer. Several of the young men had asked her to dance; but she gracefully refused, although she seemed not to be in any hurry to leave the place. Young Cormac Art also noticed her; and after exchanging a few passing words with some of his acquaintances, male and female, among the dancers, advanced towards her. It was remarked by those who stood near, that her eyes gleamed with unusual brilliancy as he drew near. Accosting her with dignified politeness, which was natural to him, he asked her to be his partner in the dance. She modestly assented, and immediately accompanied him to where the dancers were engaged in their graceful revolutions, to the soul inspiring strains of the harp. At the approach of Cormac Art and his fair partner, the others,—out of deference to him, and also to be then better enabled to witness the dancing of the stranger lady—gave over their own performance and left the stage clear to the youthful couple. The evening was unusually warm and bright, and the sky beautifully serene and cloudless, with the slight exception of a small black cloud that was seen gradually approaching from the east. The lady, when ready for the dance, went over gracefully to the harper, whispered a few words in his ear, and immediately joined her partner. The harper looked surprised and seemed as if trying to recollect some unusual and seldom performed tune. At length he struck up one of the weird and enchanting air which enhanced the soul, and which, are seldom heard, as Irish musicians are unwilling to play them, it being remarked that those who do so seldom live much longer. The lady fixed her fascinating eyes on her partner, and, until its close, never for one single instant withdrew her gaze from him. That dance was long remembered by those who witnessed it. Cormac Art seemed to be spell bound, and moved along mechanically, without paying any attention to tune or music. He looked like a bird electrified by the gaze of a serpent, and seemed to be quite passive in her toils. The small black cloud rapidly drew near, and, as they two crossed hands, a thick whirlwind of dust enveloped dancers, harper and spectators in its stifling fold; and, when it cleared away, Cormac Art and his strange partner were no more to be seen.
(To be continued)
Special Communion.—Forecastle.
13 Nov. 1867.
Samuel Wiggins was this day arraigned before "Judge Lynch" and a discriminating jury, under the following indictment:—"For that, being instigated by the devil, and a love of plunder, he did, on the 12th. Nov., 1867 feloniously and avariciously attempt to steal one stick of tobacco of great value, to wit, of inestimable value, the property of Obediah Taylor.—And that, being instigated and aforesaid, he did, on the 12th day of Nov., 1867 feloniously and voraciously, steal and eat rations of a fellow passenger, to wit, a small black pig; and further, that said pig having resisted, he, said Wiggins, did maliciously and voraciously assault and attack with his fists said small black pig; whereby said small black pig received and offered great bodily pain and injury; to wit, a black eye, and a swelled head, from the effects of which said small black pig yet suffers."
The prisoner's personal appearance would not lend to his acquittal of this or any other charge; and in this instance (especially with regard to "small black pig") he seems to have gone the whole hog.—Obediah Taylor and Ind. Jones graphically proved the attempt to "steal the bacon,"—His Lordship, having received a quid of the weed that Wiggins coveted, asked for evidence as to the prisoner's character.
James Bruiser said he knowed Wiggins for years, having "done a bit" with him in "The Steel," and a bigger ruffin never walked. (Hear, hear from the Judge.) He could prove as he were a sneakin varmint; sometime ago he (Wiggins) bought five allowances of biscuit for some tobacco; he got the biscuit "into him," and wouldn't give no baccer. (Exclamations of disgust from Judge and Jury. He got three days' wine stopped from his mess by
