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GEORGE HERBERT, 117, GRAFTON-STREET.

HURST & BLACKETT, LONDON.

MDCCCLXIV.

71889

DUBLIN: PRINTED BY ALEXANDER THOM, 37 & 88, ABBEY-STREET.

RECEIVED

DEC 18 1891

V. "ISTORICAL SOC

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THE professional tourist, who from a sense of stern necessity, and even decency, must, every year, become a sort of travelling Wandering Jew will soon have no more worlds to conquer. He has "done" every city, church, palace, lake, river, and statue, from Dan to Beersheba, and the annual Tour de rigueur begins to pall.

Yet the true Briton can travel with equal safety and convenience within the measure of the British Islands. There are Scotch lakes equal to Maggiore, and there are "bits" of local colouring at home equal to what are to be only attained by weary days and nights in steamer, and diligence, and railway carriage; and as he stands debating whether he shall, after all, drive away to the old, faithful South-Eastern, and take the familiar coupon for the eternal Beersheba, a fairy close beside, with a voice, earthly, yet musical, and attuned to that sort of hill and valley cadence, which mortals outside might ignorantly christen "brogue," whispers, in rich necent, something concerning a Green Island-an epithet secured to it by a sort of patent and lying very close to the old-established original "Tight little Island."

The fairy who gives this invitation should properly be an engaging young lady, in a scarlet Red Riding-hood cloak, with a blue petticoat ticoat, cut very short, and a little hood, which serves conveniently enough for a bonnet.

VOL. LXIII. -NO. CCCLXXIII,

Peregrinus, who has been so much abroad, is moved by the engaging aspect of the young creatures in the scarlet cloaks and hoods, and is moved with an instinctive wish to open up these new and picturesque huntinggrounds. A ticket from English Dan to Irish Beersheba is moderate. Hark to the Wild Irishman already kicking and lunging, and with difficulty held in by his two grooms. Peregrinusor shall we say simply, Peregrinehesitates, and like the woman who hesitates, is lost. A little paste, deftly applied by a ministering porter angel, of wonderful skill in adhesive work, and the irrevocable label, “London to Eblana," is already attached. Another instant, and the Irishman has brokenloose-has got his steam head, so to speak, and is away. Peregrine cannot now draw back. He is astride, so to speak, on the back of the Wild Irishman. It is fully eighty-two miles, and barely two hours gone, before his groom can pull him in somewhere about Rugby. He is even then only prevailed on to stop by the allurement of a mash dexterously compounded of coke and water.

When the Wild Irishman reaches the end of his tether, and has flung himself down exhausted at Holyhead, Peregrine finds a monster of another description waiting patiently to take him across the straits. Huge preAdamite creatures-wild elephants, whales, or steam Megatheria possibly, not by any means wild, but docile

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