The Essential Celtic Folklore Collection. Lady Gregory

intonation reminding me of the Aeolian harp. Another burst was wafted up the bill; and then It became discernible that the sound proceeded from many voices raised in lamentation.

      It waa the ulican. I had hitherto known it only by report. For the first time now, its wild and appalling cadence had ever been heard, and it will not be wondered at by those acquainted with it that I was startled on hearing it under such circumstances.

      I could now perceive a crowd of peasants of both sexes winding along a hollow way that led to the churchyard where I was standing, bearing amongst them the coffin of the departed; and ever and anon a wild burst of the ulican would arise from the throng, and ring in wild and startling unison up the hill, until, by a gradual and plaintive descent through an octave, it dropped into a subdued wail; and they bore the body onward the while, not in the measured and solemn step that custom (at least our custom) deems decent, but in a rapid and irregular manner, as if the violence of their grief hurried them on and disdained all form.

      The effect was certainly more impressive than that of any other funeral I bad ever witnessed, however much the "pride, pomp, and circumstance" of such arrays had been called upon to produce a studied solemnity; for no hearse with sable plumes, nor chief mourners, nor pallbearers, ever equalled in poetry or picturesque these poor people, bearing along on their shoulders in the stillness of evening the body of their departed friend to its "long home "--the women raising their arms above their heads in the untaught action of grief their dark and ample cloaks, waving wildly about, agitated by the varied motions of their wearers, and their wild cry raised in lament

      "Most musical, most melancholy."

      At length they reached the cemetery, and the coffin was borne into the interior of the ruin, where the women still continued to wail for the dead, while half-a-dozen athletic young men immediately proceeded to prepare a grave. And seldom have I seen finer fellows, or men more full of activity; their action, indeed, bespoke so much life and vigour as to induce an involuntary and melancholy contrast with the object on which that action was bestowed.

      Scarcely had the spade upturned the green sod of the burial-ground, when the wild peal of the ulican again was heard at a distance. The young men paused in their work, and turned their heads, as did all the bystanders, towards the point-whence the sound proceeded.

      We soon perceived another funeral procession wind round the foot of the hill, and immediately the grave-makers renewed their work with redoubled activity, while exclamations of anxiety on their part for the completion of their work, and of encouragement from the lookers-on, resounded on all sides; and such ejaculations as "Hurry, boys, hurry I"--" Stir yourself, Paddy!"--"That's your sort, Mike! "--"Rouse your sowl!" etc., etc., resounded on all sides. At the same time, the second funeral party that was advancing no sooner perceived the churchyard already occupied, than they directly quickened their pace, as the wail rose more loudly and wildly from the train; and a detachment bearing pick and spade forthwith sallied from the main body, and dashed with headlong speed up the hill. In the meantime, an old woman, with streaming eyes and dishevelled hair, rushed wildly from the ruin where the first party had borne their coffin, towards the young athletes I have already described as working with "might and main," and addressing them with all the passionate intensity of her country, she exclaimed: "Sure you wouldn't let them have the advantage of us, that-a-way, and lave my darlin' boy wanderhin' about, dark an' 'lone in the long nights. Work, 'boys! work! for the bare life, and the mother's blessin' be an you, and let my poor Paudeen have rest."

      I thought the poor woman was crazed, as indeed her appearance and vehemence of manner, as well as the (to me) unintelligible address she had uttered, might well induce me to believe, and I questioned one of the bystanders accordingly.

      "An' is it why she's goin' wild about it, you're axin'? " said the person I addressed, in evident wonder at my question. "Sure then I thought all the world knew that, let alone a gintleman like you, that ought to be knowledgable. And sure she doesn't want the poor boy to be walkin', as of coorse he must, barrin' they're smart."

      "What do you mean?" said I. "I don't understand you."

      "Whisht! whisht!" said he; "here they come, by the powers, and the Gallaghers at the head of them," as be looked towards the new-comers' advanced-guard, who had now gained the summit of the hill, and, leaping over the boundary-ditch of the cemetery, advanced towards the group that surrounded the grave, with rapid strides and a resolute air.

      "Give over there, I bid you," said a tall and ably-built man of the party to those employed in opening the ground, who still plied their implements with energy.

      "Give over, or it'll be worse for yon. Didn't you hear me, Rooney?" said he, as he laid his muscular band on the arm of one of the party he addressed, and arrested him in his occupation.

      "I did hear you," said Rooney; "but I didn't heed you."

      "I'd have you keep a civil tongue in your head," said the former. '

      "You're mighty ready to give advice that you want yourself," rejoined the latter, as he again plunged the spade into the earth.

      "Lave, off, I tell you!" said our Hercules, in a higher tone, "or, by this and that, I'll make you sorry!"

      "Arrah! what brings you here at all," said another of the grave-makers, "breedin' a disturbance?"

      "What brings him here but mischief?" said a grey-haired man, who undertook, with national peculiarity, to answer one interrogatory by making another. "There's always a quarrel whenever there's a Gallagher." For it was indeed one of "the Gallaghers" that the peasant I spoke to noticed as being "at the head of them," who was assuming so bold a tone.

      "You may thank your grey hair, that I don't make you repent of your words," said Gallagher, and his brow darkened as he spoke.

      "Time was," said the old man, "when I had something surer than grey hairs to make such as you respect me;" and he drew himself up with an air of patriarchal dignity, and displayed in his still expansive chest and commanding height the remains of a noble figure, that bore testimony to the truth of what he had just uttered. The old man's, eye kindled as he spoke--but 'twas only for a moment; and the expression of pride and defiance was succeeded by that of coldness and contempt.

      "I'd have beat you blind the best day ever you seen," said Gallagher, with an impudent swagger.

      "Troth you wouldn't, Gallagher!" said a contemporary of the old man; "but your consait bates the world!"

      "That's thrue," said Rooney. "He's a great man intirely, in his own opinion. I'd make a power of money if I could buy Gallagher at my price and sell him at his own."

      A low and jeering laugh followed this hit of my friend Rooney; and Gallagher assumed an aspect so lowering that a peasant, standing near me, turned to his companion and said significantly:

      "By gor, Ned, there'll be wigs an the green afore long!"

      And he was quite right.

      The far-off speck on the horizon, whence the prophetic eye of a sailor can foretell the coming storm, is not more nicely discriminated by the mariner than the symptoms of an approaching fray by an Irishman; and scarcely had the foregoing words been uttered, than I saw the men tucking up their long frieze coats in a sort of jacket fashion--thus getting rid of their tails, like game-cocks before a battle. A more menacing grip was taken by the bearer of each stick (a usual appendage of Hibernians); and a general closing-in of the bystanders round the nucleus of dissatisfaction made it perfectly apparent that hostilities must soon commence.

      I was not long left in suspense about such a catastrophe, for a general outbreaking soon took place, commencin

       Cuchulain of Muirthemne

      By Lady Augusta Gregory

      Preface by W. B. Yeats

      I

      I