The Mirror of Literature, Amusement, and Instruction - Volume 13, No. 352, January 17, 1829 by Various
page 26 of 52 (50%)
page 26 of 52 (50%)
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light, broad and bright, over the edge of the wood and down on the lake,
which was like a sheet of silver, except where the islands threw their black shadows over the water. O'Sullivan looked about him, and began to grow quite dismal in himself, for sure it was a lonesome sight, and besides he had a sort of dread upon him, though he couldn't tell the reason why. So not liking to stay there, as I said before, he was just going to make the best of his way home, when, who should he see, but Fuan Mac Cool (Fingal.) standing like a big _joint_ (giant) on the top of a rock. 'Hallo, O'Sullivan,' says he, 'where are you going so fast?' says he, 'come back with me,' says he, 'I want to have some talk with you.' You may be sure it was O'Sullivan was amazed and a little bit frightened too, though he wouldn't _pertind_ to it; and it would be no wonder if he was; for if O'Sullivan had a big _vice_, (voice) Fuan Mac Cool had a bigger ten times, and it made the mountains shake again like thunder, and all the eagles fly up to the moon. 'What do you want with me?' says O'Sullivan, at the same time putting on as _bould_ a face as he could. 'I want to know what business you had hunting my stag?' says Fuan, 'by the vestment,' says he, 'if 'twas any one else but yourself, O'Sullivan, I'd play the red vengeance with him. But, as you're one of the right sort, I'll pass it over this time; and, as my stag has led you a pretty dance over the mountains, I'll give you a drop of good drink, O'Sullivan; only take my advice, and never hunt my stag again.' Then Fuan Mac Cool stamped with his foot, and all of a sudden, just in the hollow which his foot made in the mountain, there came up a little lake, which tumbled down the rocks, and made the waterfall. When O'Sullivan went to take a drink of it, what should it be but _rale_ whiskey punch, and it staid the same way, running with whiskey punch, morning, noon, and night, until the _Sasenaghs_[4] came into the country, when all at once it was turned to water, though it goes still by the name of O'Sullivan's Punch Bowl.'" |
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