Only the other day a young Irishman who has to do with the land
question was mistaken for a brutal but credulous Saxon by the jarvey
who had him in tow. Consequently, Pat plied his fancied victim with
the wildest stories of this man's wrongs and that lone widow's
sufferings. When he found out his mistake he laughed and said:
"Begorra, I thought your honour was an English tourist!" And at a
certain trial which took place in Cork, the judge put by some absurd
statement by saying, half-indignant, half amused: "Do you take me for
an English tourist?" Nevertheless the race will continue so long as
there are excitable young persons of either sex whose capacity for
swallowing flies is practically unlimited, and an hysterical Press to
which they can betake themselves.

The following authoritative instance of this misplaced sympathy may
suffice. The _Westminster Review_ published a certain article on the
Olphert estate, among other things. Those who have read it know its
sensational character. At Cork the other day the priest concerned had
to confess on oath that only three of the Olphert tenants had received
relief.[D]

In the famous Luggacurren evictions the poor dispossessed dupes lost
their all at the bidding of the Campaigners, on the plea of inability
to pay rents voluntarily offered by Lord Lansdowne to be reduced 20
per cent. After these evictions the lands were let to the "Land
Corporation," which had some short time ago four hundred head of
cattle over and above the full rent paid honestly down; but the former
holders are living on charity doled out to them by the Campaigners,
and in huts built for them by the Campaigners on the edge of the rich
and kindly land which once gave them home and sustenance. How bitterly
they curse the evil counsels which led to their destruction only they