Read Ebook: The Irish Penny Journal Vol. 1 No. 12 September 19 1840 by Various

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THE IRISH PENNY JOURNAL.

Travellers whose only knowledge of our towns is that derived in passing through the principal street or streets, will be very apt to form an erroneous estimate of the amount of picturesque beauty which they often possess, and which is rarely seen save by those who go out of their way expressly to look for it. This is particularly the case in our smaller towns, in which the principal thoroughfare has usually a stiff and formal character, the entrance on either side being generally a range of mud cabins, which, gradually improving in appearance, merge at length into houses of a better description, with a public building or two towards the centre of the town. In these characteristics the highway of one town is only a repetition of that of another, and in such there is rarely any combination of picturesque lines or striking features to create a present interest in the mind, or leave a pleasurable impression on the memory. Yet in most instances, if we visit the suburbs of these towns, and more particularly if they happen, as is usually the case, to be placed upon a river, and we get down to the river banks, we shall most probably be surprised and gratified at the picturesque combinations of forms, and the delightful variety of effects, presented to us in the varied outline of their buildings, contrasted by intervening masses of dark foliage, and the whole reflected on the tranquil surface of the water, broken only by the enlivening effect of those silvery streaks of light produced by the eddies and currents of the stream.

Our prefixed view of the town of Antrim may be taken as an illustration of the preceding remarks. As seen by the passing traveller, the town appears situated on a rich, open, but comparatively uninteresting plain, terminating the well-cultivated vale of the Six-mile-water towards the flat shore of Loch Neagh; and with the exception of its very handsome church and castellated entrance into Lord Ferrard's adjoining demesne, has little or no attraction; but viewed in connection with its river, Antrim appears eminently picturesque from several points as well as from that selected for our view--the prospect of the town looking from the deer-park of Lord Massarene.

In our view the river appears crossed by a bridge, which through the upper limbs of its lofty arches affords a pretty prospect of the river bank beyond. In building a bridge in the same place, a modern county surveyor would probably erect a less picturesque but more economical structure, for the arches here are so lofty, that the river, to occupy the whole space they afford for its passage, must rise to a height that would carry its waters into an entirely new channel.

But the principal feature in our prospect is the church, the tower and steeple of which are on so respectable a scale, and of such excellent proportions, as to render it a very pleasing object as seen from any quarter or approach of the town. It would be difficult to say in what the true proportions of a spire consist, whether in its obvious and practical utility as a penthouse roofing the tower, or in its emblematic aptitude aspiring to and pointing towards heaven. Still, every cultivated eye will remark how much more dignified and imposing is the effect of a spire which is only moderately lofty, as compared with the breadth of its base, than that of one which is extremely slender. We would point out the spire of St Patrick's Cathedral, for example, or that before us, on a smaller scale, as instances of the former sort. Any one acquainted with the proportions of those attenuated pinnacles which we so often find perched on the roofs of churches erected within the last ten years, cannot be at a loss for examples of the latter. The church itself at Antrim is, however, rather defective in point of size, as compared with its nobly proportioned tower and spire.

Sir Henry Savage's "castles of bones" were found insufficient in the end to resist the multitudes of the Irish; and the English colonists, as we have mentioned, notwithstanding their victory at Antrim, were finally obliged to cede the valley of the Six-mile-water to the victorious arms of the Clan-Hugh-Buide, whose representative, the present Earl O'Neill, still holds large possessions in the territory thus recovered by his ancestors.

With respect to the origin of the place, there is little to be said beyond the fact, that, like that of most of our provincial towns, it was ecclesiastical. The only remnant of the ancient foundation is the round tower, which still stands in excellent preservation about half a mile north of the town. The name is properly "Aen-druim" signifying "the single hill," or "one mount."

Without doubt I am a benevolent character: the grudge gratuitous to my nature is unknown: I never take offence where no offence is given. Hence, on most animals I look with complacency--for most animals never intermeddle with my comfort--and on only a few with antipathy, for only a few so behave as to excite it. High up on the list of the latter--I was going to say at the very top, but that pestering, pertinacious fly impudently alighting, through pure mischief alone, on the tickle-tortured tip of--but he's gone--no, he's back--there now I have him under my hat at last--tut! he's out again under the rim--up with the window and away with him! At the head, then, ay, at the very head--how my grievances come crowding on my brain!--I unhesitatingly place that thrice-confounded breed of curs, colleys, mongrels, or whatever else they may be called, with which the rural regions of this therein much-afflicted country are infested. The milk of my humanity--yea, I may say the cream, for such it was with me--has in respect to them been changed to very gall--an unmitigable hostility has possessed me, which--did not the scars of the wofully-remembered salting, scrubbing, scarifying, and frying , to which my better leg was twice submitted, counsel me to mingle discretion with my ire--would absolutely make me turn Don Quixote for their extirpation.

Decided by some such discipline to run the gauntlet, and in a state of temper alternating between war and peace, inclining, as I remarked, strange contradiction! to the former when the latter was in prospect, and to the latter when the former, I proceeded in guarded vigilance. "Hope deferred maketh the heart sick," no doubt, but in my case evil deferred doth oftentimes as much. The substantial presence of danger for me, before its fearful imminence--the real onset of a canine crew, before the terrible suspense of passing the open den in which haply they lay wait, the shrill gamut of attack splitting your ear worse in apprehension than in action. But attention! yonder is the first position. Egad! I'm in luck to-day; the coast seems clear, and--the pacific now prevails amain--poor devils, I won't make any ruction.

"Ever follow peace If you'd live at ease,"

But I am pre-eminently a reasoning man, in whom the reign of passion is but brief, and discretion had so far recovered its rightful ascendency as I drew nigh the next "picket," that I began to think it more prudent, more benevolent I mean, to bottle up, or repress I should say, my indignation, and try what the "gentle charities," a benign demeanour and a pleasant salutation, might avail in the way of securing a peaceful transit. With this aim I threw a prodigious amount of amiability into my countenance, and accompanied a few familiar fillips of my finger with a most honied, and, as I thought, captivating phraseology of address, to a sinister-faced wretch who lay recumbent on the nearest threshold. But it would not do: up bounced the vile ingrate with obstreperous bay; his myrmidons were forthcoming on the instant, and in a jiffey I, a grave, reserved, and middle-aged man, a short, stout, and not very well-winded man, was in the mel?e once more, yerking my heels out fore and aft, whacking right and left, puffing, blowing, and altogether cutting such uncouth capers as verily it shames me now to think upon. Whether or not it was that my resentment, and proportionably thereto my prowess, were aggravated by the flagrant ingratitude displayed, I distributed my "dissuaders" on this occasion with such distinguished emphasis as well as science, as speedily to create a considerable diversion in my favour, and make more than one repentant sinner yelp out "devil take the hindmost," in such vigorous style as to bring a bevy of grandam fogies in wrath from their chimney corners. "An what are yees abusin' the poor craythurs for, that wouldn't harm nobody in the world at all at all, barrin' a pig or so? It's a wonder yees been't ashamed to treat the poor dumb brutes that way, that niver did an ill hand's turn to us nor one belonging to us, an' it's longer we're acquaint with them than you. Come here, Trig--come here, Daisy--in there, Snap--down there, Peerie," and so forth. Recrimination on such opponents was out of the question; and this brush over in rather creditable style, I made all speed from the united clamour of the offended crones and their injured innocents.

The next sore point I happily passed in the company of an iron-nerved, long-thonged carman, whom I providently engaged in conversation at the crisis. This fellow minded them no more than if they had been so many sods of turf, nor in truth did they, having probably tasted erewhile the crusty quality of such a customer, pay much regard to him, although not a few ill-favoured glances were cast askew at my poor self, as under his lee I stoutly stumped along; and some ill-suppressed growls and spiteful grins gave me to understand that I owed my safety solely to my company. A jolly beggarman--alack-a-day! that I should ever stand in need of such a convoy--to whose nimble fictions I gave ear for the nonce with singular philanthropy, was my next protector, and a sixpence paid for the safe conduct, at which rate I am pretty confident, had he seen how matters lay, he would have offered to trudge it at my elbow far enough, for the sturdy rogue cared not a snuff for them had they been twice as numerous; and in a few seconds after, I saw him with a flourish of his duster enter a hut in the midst of them all.

A MAN.

LUOIGH NA SEALGA.

POEM OF THE CHASE.

There are many poems of great beauty and interest in the Irish language, several of which have become known to the English reader through the medium of a translation. Of those poems there is a particular class known to Irish scholars by the name of the "Fenian Tales"--an appellation which they derive from Finn, or Fionn, the son of Cumhail , and his heroes the FIONNA EIRONN. Fionn, renowned for his martial exploits, flourished about the beginning of the third century, under Cormac, of whose forces he was the commander-in-chief. He has been to the Milesian bards what King Arthur was to the Britons, the theme of many a marvellous achievement and poetic fiction. Oisin, his son, was equally celebrated as a warrior and a poet; and of him it might be said, as of Achilles, AEschylus, Alfred, Camoens, Cervantes, and many another, that "one hand the sword and one the harp employed." Numerous poems have been ascribed to him; but there is no proof that he has a legitimate claim to any composition extant. As for the impostures of Macpherson, they have been sufficiently exposed; and no one who has taken pains to investigate the subject, or who has the least knowledge of Irish history, antiquities, or language, will pretend that he is worthy of the slightest credence. The date and origin of the Fenian Tales, from which he drew many of the materials of his centos, are altogether uncertain. It may seem, however, not unreasonable, from slight internal evidence, to conjecture that some of them may have been composed soon after the introduction of Christianity, though they must since have suffered many changes and modifications. In few countries, if in any, did the Christian religion win its way more easily than in Ireland; and yet it can scarcely be supposed that its triumph became universal without some reluctance on the part of the people, whose habits it condemned, and to whose superstitions it was strenuously opposed. It attempted to produce such a complete revolution in their tastes and occupations, that it would be surprising had not various objections been started to its reception. The quiet and devotion of the monastic life formed a melancholy contrast to the spirit-stirring excitements of the chase, and to those games of strength and skill in which the heroes of the Ossianic age delighted. They who rejoiced in the clash of arms, in the music of hounds and horns, and in the feast and the revel, could have small taste for the chiming of bells in the services of religion, for the singing of psalms, and still less for fasting--

The bards, it may well be imagined, who were always not only welcome but necessary guests at all the high festivals of the chiefs and princes, would be among the first to lament a change of manners by which their pleasures and honours were abridged or abolished; and to give more effect to their complaint, as well as to conceal its real authors, they put it into the mouth of Oisin, their great master, by poetic licence, though in violation of chronology. They ascribed to him those sentiments which they thought he would have expressed, had he really been the contemporary of Saint Patrick. At the same time it must be admitted, that in the Poem of the Chase at least, such a description of the creative power of the Deity is given by the saint, as is worthy of a Christian missionary, though he is obliged to succumb to the stern indignation of the "Warrior Bard."

Leaving the further consideration of this subject for the present, I proceed to give an analysis of the Poem of the Chase, from which the reader may be enabled in some degree to judge how far Spenser is justifiable in affirming that the poems of the Irish bards "savoured of sweet wit and good invention."

The poem commences by Oisin asking St Patrick if he had ever heard the tale of the chase; and on receiving an answer in the negative, accompanied with a request that it may be told truly, he feels indignant at the suspicion that he or any of the Fionna Eironn could ever deviate from the strictest veracity, and retaliates by declaring how much he prized his former friends, whose virtues he records, beyond Patrick and all his psalm-singing fraternity. Patrick, in reply, exhorts him not to indulge a strain of panegyric which borders on blasphemy, and extols the power of that great Being by whom all the Fenian race had been destroyed. The mention of his friends' extinction calls forth a fresh burst of indignation from Oisin, and leads him to compare the pleasures of the days gone by with the melancholy occupations of psalm-singing and fasting. Patrick requests him to cease, and not incur the impiety of comparing Finn with the Creator of the universe. Oisin replies in a style more indignant, and after reciting a number of the glorious exploits of the Fenians, asks by what achievements of Patrick's Deity they can be matched. The saint, justly shocked by such daring, accuses him of frenzy, and tells him that Finn and his host have been doomed to hell-fire by that God whom he blasphemes: but this only provokes Oisin to make a comparison between Finn's generosity and the divine vengeance; and as for himself, it is a sufficient proof of his sanity that he allows Patrick and his friends to wear their heads. Patrick, as if tacitly admitting the validity of his argument, pays him a compliment, and requests him to proceed with the promised tale. Oisin complies, and informs him that while the Fenian heroes were feasting in the tower of Almhuin, Finn having withdrawn from the company and spied a young doe, pursued her with his two hounds Sceolan and Bran as far as Slieve Guillin, where she suddenly disappeared. While he and his hounds are left in perplexity, he hears a sound of lamentation, and looking round espies a damsel of surpassing beauty, whom he accosts, and with friendly solicitude asks the cause of her grief. She replies that she had dropped her ring into the adjoining lake, and adjures him as a true knight to dive into the water to find and restore the lost treasure. He complies, and succeeds; and while handing her the ring, is suddenly metamorphosed into a withered old man.

Mean time the absence of their chief begins to create some fears for his safety in the breasts of the Fenians. Caoilte expresses his apprehension that he is irrecoverably lost, when bald Conan, the Thersites of the Fenian poems, rejoicing at the idea, boasts that he will in future be their chief. The Fenians having indulged in a laugh of scorn to hear such arrogance from one they contemned, proceed in quest of Finn, and discover the old man, who whispers in the ear of Caoilte the story of his strange metamorphosis. Conan, on hearing it, waxes valiant, and utters some bitter reproaches against Finn and the Fenians. He is rebuked by Caoilte; but still continuing to vituperate and boast, he is answered at last by the sword of Osgar. The Fenians interfere, and having put an end to the strife, and learned the cause of Finn's misfortune, they search the secret recesses of Slieve Guillin, and at length find the enchantress, who presents a cup to Finn, of which he drinks, and is restored to his former strength and beauty.

Miss Brooke, a lady to whose genius and taste Irish literature is greatly indebted, has given a translation of this poem in her "Reliques of Irish Poetry," published in 1788. Every Irish scholar is bound to speak with respect of her patriotic literary labours, and the present writer would be among the last to pluck a single leaf from the chaplet which adorns her brows--

Not from her head shall I presume to tear The sacred wreath she well deserves to wear.--FRANCIS.

In my next communication I shall send you a translation of the first part of the Poem of the Chase--namely, the introductory dialogue between Patrick and Oisin. This shall be followed by the succeeding part of the poem, should you deem such compositions suited to the pages of your "Journal," which I hope will be eminently useful in promoting both the literary and moral taste of the people of Ireland.

Cormac Ulfada, grandson of "Con of the hundred battles." He reigned forty years, and was honoured as a wise statesman and a philosopher.

The reader who feels an interest in this subject, and in the Ossianic controversy, is referred to the essays by the Rev. Dr. Drummond and Mr O'Reilly in the fifteenth volume of the Transactions of the Royal Irish Academy. In the Transactions of the Hiberno-Celtic Society Mr O'Reilly observes, that "many beautiful poems are extant that bear the name of Oisin, but there are no good reasons to suppose that they are the genuine compositions of that bard. If ever they were composed by Oisin, they have since suffered a wonderful change in their language, and have been interpolated so as to make the poet and St Patrick contemporaries, though the latter did not commence his apostolic labours in Ireland until the middle of the fifth century, when by the course of nature Oisin must have lain in his grave about one hundred and fifty years."

Since this paper was sent to the press, the author has been assured by a most competent Irish scholar that there are manuscript poems attributed to Oisin not less than a thousand years old in the Library of the Dublin University. It is much to be wished, for the honour of ancient Irish literature and for the light which these poems may throw on some dark and disputed topics of Irish history, that they may before long be properly analysed and presented to the public.

Thus Horace exposes the arts of the parasites and fortune-hunters of Rome in a dialogue between Tiresias and Ulysses.

DEAF AND DUMB--A MOUNTAIN SKETCH.

BY MRS S. C. HALL.

It has been a general and certainly a well-founded complaint against Ireland, that the arts, whose influence has extended so much over England and Scotland during the last half century, have made but little progress in "the Emerald Isle." It "has sent forth painters, but encouraged none." This I fear is true, though lately I have been delighted to observe some very happy exceptions to the rule.

There are many reasons why art and artists have not flourished in Ireland. The greater number of those who have the means to patronise talent are absentees, spending in foreign lands the produce of the riches bestowed by the Almighty on their own--while the minds of the residents are usually so pre-occupied by religious or political controversies, that they have no time to bestow, or attention to give to anything else. Another reason I would urge, even at the hazard of being charged with national pride, is, the country so overflows with natural beauty, that in the matter of landscape painting the Irish gentry are hard to please. To those who doubt this, I would simply say, come and see; and if any English artist does not discover good cause why they should be fastidious, all I can observe is, that I shall be very much astonished. Even the highways are crowded with antiquarian and picturesque beauty; but road-makers do not seek these so much as convenience; nor are the most-talked-of places those where a "landskipper," as I heard an artist called in Kerry, will reap the richest harvest.

We are weak enough to bound the Almighty's works by what has come within the sphere of our own finite observations. How paltry this must seem to those who dwell amongst the mountains, and read the book of ever varying nature amid the silent places of the earth!

Nor was his enthusiasm less extraordinary than the purity of his taste; for he turned over several coloured engravings, brilliant though they were, of ladies' costumes, after a mere glance at each, while he returned again and again to the drawings that were really worthy of attention.

While he was thus occupied, his little companion, struck by some sudden thought, bounded up the almost perpendicular mountain with the grace and agility of a true-born Kerry maiden, until she disappeared; but she soon returned, springing from rock to rock, and holding the remnants of her tattered apron together with evident care. When she descended, she displayed its contents, which interested us greatly, for they were her brother's sketches, five or six in number, made on the torn-out leaves of an old copy-book in pale ink, or with a still paler pencil. Two were tinged with colour extracted from plants that grew upon the mountain; and though rude, there were evidences of a talent the more rare, when the circumstances attendant upon its birth were taken into consideration. The lad could have had no instruction--he had never been to school, though schools, thank God! are now to be found in the fastnesses of Kerry--the copy-book was the property of his eldest brother, and he had abducted the leaves to record upon them his silent observations of the magnificence of Nature, whose power had elevated and instructed his mind, closed as it was by the misfortune of being born deaf and dumb, against such knowledge as he could acquire in so wild a district. We should not have read even this line of his simple history, but for the opportune passing of a "Kerry dragoon"--a wild, brigand-looking young fellow, mounted between his market-panniers on his rough pony--who proved to be the lad's brother, although he did not at first tell us so.

"We all," he said, "live high up in de mountain; but I can't trust Mogue to look after de goats by himself. His whole delight is puttin' down upon a bit of paper or a slate whatever he sees. I'd ha' broke him off it long agone; but he was his mother's darlin', and she's wid de blessed Vargin these seven years, so I don't like to cross his fancy; besides, de Lord's hand has been heavy on him already, and it does no harm, no more than himself, except when any of de childre brake what he do be doing; den he goes mad intirely, and strays I dunna where; though, to be sure, de Almighty has his eye over him, for he's sure to come back well and quiet."

The lad at last closed our portfolio with a heavy sigh, and did not perceive until he had done so that his little sister had spread out his own productions on the heather which grew so abundantly by the road-side. He pointed to them with something of the exaltation of spirit which is so natural to us all when we think our exertions are about to be appreciated, and he bent over them as a mother would over a cherished child. His triumph, however, was but momentary--it was evident that his having seen better things rendered him discontented with his own, for while gathering them hastily together, he burst into tears.

Poor mountain boy! I do not think his tears were excited by envy, for he returned to our folio in a few moments with the same delight as before; but his feelings were the more intense because he could not express them; and he had been taught his inferiority, a bitter lesson, the remembrance of which nothing but hope, all-glorious hope, that manifestation of immortality, can efface.

We gave him some paper and pencils, together with a few engravings, and had soon looked our last at Mogue Murphy, as he stood, his little sister clinging to his side, waving his hat on a promontory, while we were rapidly descending into the valley. I thought the memory of such a meeting in the mountains was worthy of preservation.

IMPROPER CONDUCT IN PUBLIC PLACES.

If proofs of the utility of thus disposing of the spare time of the people be required, one answer will be, that they are thus at least "kept out of harm's way;" and in accomplishing this , a great deal more of good is achieved, for a spirit of inquiry is thus induced, and a talent for observation cultivated, which are the parents of true knowledge, and which, combined with the habit of concentrating thought and reflection, must open up the sources of wisdom, and produce an enlargement of understanding in the fortunate possessor, which older and still too prevalent methods of education are eminently calculated to repress. It has been observed, until the observation has become trite, that "knowledge is power," and it is therefore the duty of all who are sensible of the value of mental development to encourage whatever tends to promote it; though, unfortunately, there still exists a class of men who seek to maintain undeserved superiority, by keeping all persons subordinate to them in ignorance, instead of generously extending to them such help as would enable them to advance in intelligence. How different was the feeling of him who said, that if permitted to have his wishes accomplished he would ask but for two: the first, that he might possess all knowledge that man in his finite nature can or ought to possess; and the second, that having attained this knowledge, all his fellow-creatures might be admitted to a participation of it.

The value of observation as an accessible source of information to all, must be obvious; the infant observes before he reasons, and reason advances with the powers of observing. When the man becomes a sage, he may theorise; but he must first test his wisdom by observation, which would thus appear to be the fulcrum on which mind must depend to raise itself; and as opportunities of observation are now daily increasing, it becomes a matter of importance to aid those who are inclined, by showing them how to observe, and to draw out the latent talent in those who, having eyes, yet see not; and there is no mode in which this can be more effectually and agreeably done than by drawing their attention to those natural objects by which they are surrounded. The sacred writers were well aware of the value of thus directing the mind; and our poets have in many instances derived applause and celebrity from their power of accurately observing and faithfully describing the phenomena of nature.

To aid the people in the acquirement of knowledge so desirable, our best efforts shall not be wanting, and we propose to ourselves accordingly to give a series of papers on Natural History, pointing out, in a popular manner, what all who have eyes may see, and, seeing, profit by.

ANSALDO AND THE CATS.

Everybody, we presume, has heard or read the story of "Whittington and his Cat," which is an especial favourite with the worthy citizens of "London town," where it is matter of history that the once poor and friendless little boy rose to be thrice Lord Mayor; but from the tale quoted below, it would seem that the Italians are not without a version of their own on the subject. Which of the two is the most ancient or original, we confess our inability to decide, but it is a matter of very little consequence, as the moral in each is similar, namely, that perseverance and industry will generally meet their just reward, while the endeavours of an idle and improvident man to realise a great fortune all at once, by some wild and desperate speculation, pretty much the same as gambling, or even, as we may add, by that detestable and degrading vice itself, rarely fails to involve the rash projector in ruin and disgrace. However, without fatiguing the reader with further preface, we will present him with the following literal translation from the Italian of Lorenzo Magaletti:--

"About the time when our Amerigo Vespucci discovered the new world, there was a merchant in our town whose name was Messer Ansaldo degli Ormani, who, though he had become very rich, but yet desirous to double his wealth, chartered a very large ship, and began to trade with his merchandise in the newly-discovered regions of the West. Having already made two or three prosperous voyages, he wished to return thither once more; but scarcely had he left Cadiz when there arose a most furious gale, which drove him along for several days, without his knowing where he was; but at length fortune was so kind as to enable him to reach an island called Canaria. He had no sooner done so than the king, being informed of the arrival of a vessel, went down to the port with all his nobles, and gave Messer Ansaldo a kind reception: he then conducted him to the royal palace, to show his joy at his arrival. Dinner was then prepared in the most sumptuous style, and he sat down with Messer Ansaldo, who was surprised to see a great number of youths who held in their hands long sticks, similar to those used by penitents; but no sooner were the viands served up than he understood fast enough the meaning of such attendance, for

'Not Xerxes led so many into Greece, Nor numerous thus the myrmidonic bands, As on the scene their countless hosts appeared!'

In fact, so many and so large were the rats which came in from all quarters, that it was really wonderful to see them. Thereupon the youths aforesaid took to their sticks, and with great labour defended the dish from which the king and Messer Ansaldo were eating. When the latter had heard and seen the multitudes of those filthy animals which were innumerable in that island , he sought to make the king understand by signs that he wished to provide him with a remedy by means of which he might be freed from such horrid creatures; and running quickly to the ship, he took two very fine cats, male and female, and brought them to the king, saying that on the next occasion they should be put upon the table. As soon therefore as the smell of the meat began to diffuse itself, the usual procession made its appearance, when the cats seeing it began to scatter them so bravely that there was very soon a prodigious slaughter of the enemy.

On seeing this, the delighted king, wishing to remunerate Ansaldo, sent for many strings of pearls, with gold, silver, and rare precious stones, which he presented to Messer Ansaldo, who, thinking he had made a good profit of his merchandise, spread his sails to the wind, prosecuted his voyage, and returned home immensely rich.

W. S. T.

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