soldier; and so it does. Nor are we without
amusements when the morning's work is over.
The sportsman finds large flocks of green and
grey plover, woodquests, partridges, cranes, and
now and then a hare, even if he has not the run
of a preserve. The Liffey and its tributary
streams afford some sport to the angler; the
neighbouring canal abounds in splendid perch.
Our brigade and field days naturally attract
visitors from Dublin, and the camp is generous
in its hospitality. Then there are races at all
seasons of the year, where money is lost and won.
The Curragh races are famous in the sporting
world, and at the Curragh Edge some of the
winners of the Derby and St. Leger have been
bred and trained. In winter we have the fox-
hounds and the harriers, and "the meets" of
the "dashing Kildares " are famous.
Sometimes we have a presentation of colours to a
regiment, and then all the fashionables of Dublin
pour out to the Curragh, peep into the huts,
and get up an improptu dance upon the short
grass or in the mess-rooms. When in the warm
autumn the setting sun lights up the west with
a vast sea of gold and crimson, the bands of the
regiments in camp stationed on the hill slopes
perform military and operatic pieces. You can
hear the strains of martial music far away on the
still evening air. Then the officers' ladies,
transferring tables, chairs, and sofas to the
sward, are "at home," dispensing tea and
coffee. The great slope of the Long Hill
glimmers with lamps like fire-flies. Here, at
the al fresco tables, pleasant parties for
tomorrow are rapidly arranged. Poulafouca, the
Devil's Glen, the Seven Churches, and other
places celebrated for their scenery, are distant
only a few hours' easy drive.

But the Fenians had broken up our society
rudely before the crisis came. Detachments
were ordered off continually, few officers
remained, and then the ladies departed on visits
to relatives or friends. The camp became still
and silent; the pickets were strengthened; we
were as in a fortress which might be assailed,
and the men were kept "within the lines," ready
to march.

At this time the Great Southern and Western
Railway proved one of the most powerful
auxiliaries of the government. A short branch
line connects the camp with the main trunk,
and thus troops were conveyed secretly and
almost silently at an hour's notice from quarters
to any part of the disturbed districts.
Regiments arriving from England in the early morning
were paraded at the Curragh the same day,
and drafted away immediately. Troops from
Dublin were incessantly passing up and down
the line to Newbridge and the camp, and from
both to Limerick Junction, Tipperary, Mallow,
&c., just as need required. There was no bustle
or confusion. The military telegraph—one end
of which is in the centre of the camp—
transmitted "orders." These were instantly in the
hands of the general in command. In no one
case was there delay or accident. On the night
of the 5th, or morning of the 6th of March, the
insurgents did some injury to the railway below
Limerick Junction. They compelled some of the
workmen on the line to shift the rails and move
the sleepers, but a few hours set all to rights.
The telegraph-wires were occasionally dragged
down and severed. A rail was now and then
placed across the line, but no more serious
injury was done. It seemed as if the Fenians
had no heart in the work, and shrank from
committing any deed which might place them
outside the pale of pardon by the gravity of its
consequences. The railway company stationed
signalmen, a mile from each other, along the
line, and these, passing up and down until they
met each other, secured the safety of the trains.
At the several stations there seemed to be only
the ordinary traffic. When the trains stopped,
an officer of constabulary rapidly scrutinised the
third-class carriages, and then the whistle
sounded, and the trains moved on. Outside
and above the station wall might be seen the
shakos and gun-barrels of three or four of the
police. A sudden agitation among the little
crowd, and a loud exclamation, were the only
indications that a capture had been made. The
moment a man was arrested on suspicion or by
warrant, all dropped away from him; he was at
once left alone in the hands of the police, and
heard no word of sympathy or pity.

These railway lines seemed almost to have
been planned in anticipation of the rising, so
directly do they touch the very centres of
sedition. Running through the counties of Dublin,
Kildare, Queen's, Tipperary, Limerick, and Cork,
the railway possesses stations at Limerick
Junction (where four lines meet), at Tipperary,
Kilmallock, Charleville, and Mallow. From the
latter town a branch runs off to Millstreet; to
Killamey—where the first "rebel army" melted
away among the Toomies mountains—and Tralee.
The most distant of these places is but four or
five hours' journey from the camp. A march of
a quarter of a mile brought the men from their
huts to the camp station, and then away they
were whirled, full of spirit, and longing to see
their enemy.

The "canteens" form a very remarkable
feature of the camp. They are really extensive
stores, replete with every imaginable commodity
which man or woman could need. When the
camp contains some thousand men and a due
proportion of women, children, and followers,
these canteens afford an opportunity for studying
human nature in all its forms.You would
know the well-conducted from the careless
soldier by the mode of asking for what they
needed, as well as by the articles they bought.
You could guess the life, the love, the circumstances
of every trim and neat-shod English girl
by the purchases she made—self-denying, self-
sacrificing ever. You would wish that you were
rich, that you might add a little to that store of
comforts the baby of a wife prepares for her
husband. "He is on guard to-night, sir, and
oh, it is so wet and cold!" How she weighed
her few pence against the many things she
wished to give him. Many an unheard blessing