Drumcliff and Rosses er time, and  t of Ben Bulben, tain in  nigo loose the world.

    t St. Columba ains on one notable day to get near tle sea-dividing, sandy plain, covered  grass, like a green tableclot for Benbulben and Knocknarea Many a poor sailor’d be cast ahe rhyme goes.

    At ttle promontory of sand and rocks and grass: a mournful, ed place. No  s lo to t by mounds of sand, a long cave goes t beautiful parlours and dra, a dog strayed in, and s or ratory  ot. Once elligent and “reading” peasant side, knelt doimid voice, “Are you all rigtle whe dog.

    No ray cottages. One nig all flaming, and ran to, but to a fence, cross-legged, and commenced beating it ick, for  all nig on t ry. In till beating on for to tle later a farmer tried to level t. rouble overtook  useless o th.”

    A fe covered  ty years ago a brig  to ced  midnigting on a stone at t.

    t croo see t tures had gone.

    to t tery. ryands at  tains and t far: because norte square door s sundoian riders ruse Lady, wless Maive cap of Knocknarea.

    t s  a e Lady? S t of ouched him.

    “ ttle stitc join ther.

    One nig eating Mrs. old me a longisory, muc of all I o our oo tell of, for tures, to repeat t any rate tory-tellers do. “In times ravel by to Mullingar to iff and  fatigued I er t. So on till opped to joke er a  it in  come to t  round talking. After a  me, loato stir from to eat. t on took t out and put it on a plate, and told me to eat only t t came off ten, t out, and I did not see t greill sat, loato leave ter a o tting t, ‘urn t? Says t of t and turn t.’ I came out all of a tremble, and began turning t. ‘Mic, ‘if you let it burn  you on t instead’; and on t t out. I sat trembling and turning till to, and t .

    But  over it, t time; and, sitting by t: ‘Micell me a story?’ ‘Divil a one,’ said I. On  me out like a s. It  nig ever came out of t knooucell a story noting me by tory but t I ting  on t, and set me turning it.’ ‘t  in the middle of a green field!”

    “Drumcliff” is a great place for omens. Before a prosperous fis of a storm-cloud; and at a place called Columkille’s Strand, a place of mars boat, . Columba ing in from sea on a moonlig: a portent of a brave ing. tents too. Some fe s under s boscage, and enjoy tion of Cucional troubles.

    Drumcliff and Rosses are cs. By bog, road, ratongued ling seals, and so on.  A  graveyard. ters  a soldier named Denad Drumcliff.” Not very long ago an old urning to go into t nigo pray, saanding before  he race of Con,”

    says local ill keeping c piety, over tom is still common s of sprinkling tep o ts from too  gats. to cut your one on going into a fort is said to be very dangerous.

    t in Drumcliff or Rosses t. t I kno reasons I do not say aining tes. It ain. t said not  daring to face ted suicide in mid-ocean. Sly after.

    At any rate, strange sounds en seen by till alive out in t t times. to tion of a  noands by itself, for no one dare put spade or pruning-knife about it. As to trange sounds and voices, t cease till a feer and aroubled g, say te-finder  last dislodged.

    My forebears and relations ranger, and can find notories of te stone fort—one of tone ones in Ireland—under t is dangerous to talk of tures. Only friendsious tongues. My friend, “t ring” (I give no more tubbornest , but ted Gaelic magician ury, and ive rigo ell of all kind of otures. t relations of age of magicians be true.