first, lawful wedlock is uniformly the aim and
end: second, elopements are very usual, and
are considered not in the least objectionable.
Parents are habitually described as the
natural enemies of true lovers; and, as such,
it is held not only allowable, but highly praiseworthy,
to revile, deceive, and even directly
to rob them. Yet the romantic or love-in-a-
cottage principle which prevails among the
Romeos and Juliets of polite fiction has no
parallel here, for care is always taken to
provide one or other of the amorous couple with
"ample means," and oftentimes the exact
amount of the dowry is impressively
mentioned. Instances of ladies of fortune falling
in love with young men of the humblest rank,
are (in the ballad world) extremely frequent;
sailors and servants, or "labouring-boys,"
appearing to be the most liable to such good
fortune. On the other hand, it sometimes
happens, but not nearly so often, that a
gentleman is found laying his affection and
property at the feet of a lowly maiden. The
ladies, in truth, are by much the bolder
wooers; witness the oldest and most popular
ballad in our collection, which, in the present
copy, commences thus:

Rise up, William O'Reilly, and come along with me;
I mean for to go with you, and leave this country; *
I'll leave my father's dwelling, his money and fine
      lawn †
So away goes William O'Reilly, and his dear
      Mourneen Bawn.

This ballad had its rise in an affair that
happened in the north-west of Ireland about
sixty-five- years ago. William O'Reilly, or
Willy Reilly, a young Catholic farmer, was
tried at Sligo for the abduction of Miss
Folliott, daughter of a gentleman of property;
but the young lady deposed that she had
eloped with Willy of her own free will, and he
was thereupon triumphantly acquitted. The
fact of the Folliotts being aristocrats and of
high Orange politics, invested the occurrence
with a strong party interest; which,
combined with the romantic circumstances of the
case, gave the ballad an extensive popularity,
which it still retains. All over Ulster, at least,
Willy Reilly is a household word; and the
name—sometimes in the form of Reilly,
sometimes of O'Reilly—has become a stock name
of the heroes of the ballad-makers.

For another instance, less authorised by
history, of this leap-year style of courtship,
take "The Admired Love-Song of William and
Eliza, of Lough-Erin Shore." William becomes
servant to "a lady of honour," who falls in
love with him, and brings him, first to Dublin,
and thence to London.

        For three months in great consolation [says
                    William]
            This lady she did me adore,
       Saying, my Willy, do not be uneasy
            For leaving Lough-Erin shore.

        Dear Willie, you'll roll in great splendour,
             With lords, dukes, and earls of fame;
        You'll correspond with these nobles,
             And you shall be equal the same.

In conclusion, William; who at first really
did appear somewhat uneasy, despite the
splendour promised him,

        Is wed to a great English lady,
            The truth unto you I'll explore;
        He hopes to roll in great splendour
            Once more on Lough-Erin shore.

William, by the way, is, out of sight, the
most popular, lyrically, of Christian names.

The following damsel is no less demonstrative
than the one just disposed of:

        It is of a nobleman's daughter,
            So comely and handsome to hear,
        Her father possessed of great fortune,
             Full thirty-five thousand a year;
        He had but one only daughter,
             Caroline is her name, we are told.
        One day, from her drawing-room window,
             She admired a young sailor so bold.

        His cheeks they appeared like two roses,
             His hair was as black as the jet,
        Young Caroline watch'd his departure,
             Walked round, and young William she met;
        She said, "I 'm a nobleman's daughter,
             Possessed of ten thousand in gold;
        I'll forsake both my father and mother,
             And wed my young sailor bold."

Young Caroline—an ante-dated Bloomer—
assumes male attire, and

        Two years and a half on the ocean,
        She sailed with her young sailor bold.

On her return, the effect of her novel
style of dress on her father's nerves, is
described with commendable simplicity.

        Caroline went straightway to her father,
             In her jacket and trousers of blue;
        He received her, and that moment fainted,
             When first she appeared in [his] view.

He recovers, however, from the shock
communicated by the blue trousers, and

        They are married, and Caroline's portion
              Is twenty-five thousand in gold;
        So now they are happy and cheerful,
             Caroline and her young sailor bold.

Observe, that by a not uncommon rhythmical
license, the accent of this lady's name is shifted
between the first syllable and the third,
according to convenience.

Our next heroine has set her heart upon her
parents' "Bonny Labouring Boy," and
proceeds thus:

I courted him for twelve long months, but little did
      I know
My cruel parents thought to prove our overthrow.

Being coerced—

Eight hundred pounds and all my clothes I took
      that very night,
And with the lad that I adored to Belfast I did take
      flight;
His love it has entangled me, and that I can't deny,
So to America I'll go with my bonny labouring boy.

* Pronounced counteree.

† A misprint for "land,"  which is pronounced lawn in the
North.