- the only specimen of neatness that I saw was in these potato
ridges; they are left unguarded in the field, and the Irish say, the last thing they would think of stealing would be the potatoes. The hay-ricks are on the same small scale as the Welsh, but not put together nor thatched with Welsh neatness; but the stacks of turf looked very Irish, and they were tolerably neat. The police, who are dressed in a dark-coloured uniform, are armed, which they are not in England. The sight of a turf-fire has an odd appearance at first; the smell is oppressive, and it does not appear to send out the heat of a coal-fire. The park of Abbeyleix, with its fine trees, is a pleasing object, surrounded as it is by a flat country of bog and swamp, and the walks within it are delightful. I wish I had had some of the young rhododendron trees from Landowr to plant there; I might have brought some home in glass cases, impervious to the sea air; a great many cases of that sort, containing rare plants, came to England on the poop of the "Madagascar;" several of the plants were in bloom on board, and they were all healthy on their arrival. The hall at Abbeyleix is decorated with the skull and horns of an enormous elk, found in one of the bogs,—a great curiosity; there is also a woodcock, with a young one and an egg, which were found in the grounds, and are considered a rarity.
We passed a woman who appeared to be very poor from the scantiness of her clothing; she wore her cloak over her head instead of over her shoulders,—a fashion purely Irish; but she did not ask for charity. My companion gave her some money; she threw herself on her knees to thank him, and on our asking her history, she said, "My husband is a Roman, sure it's myself's the bad Protestant:" she added that she had eight children, four of whom were dead, and the Lord be thanked; and she wished the Lord would take the others, for they were starving. I gave her a little money, which I made her promise to spend in potatoes and buttermilk, because she said she would lay it out in tea for the children. This new love of tea, to the abolition of potatoes and buttermilk, adds much to the starving state of the Irish poor; if you give them money, it is said, their
