head. I saw it descending on my skull,
and gave myself up for lost, when the wife
of Tim Martin, who from the top of the wall
had been vociferously abusing us, suddenly
jumped from her perch, and pushed aside my
giant assailant, so that his mighty stroke fell
on the empty air.

"Mind the black heifer, Simon," she cried
to the blacksmith, "she'll be out on the
road. While he went off in chace of the
wanderer, Mrs. Martin seized me by the arm,
and leading me through a gap in the opposite
hedge, whispered, "Be off with you,
sir, be off with you; some of these strangers
will kill you; we can't be sure of them, you
know, sir, and it's better for you to go at
once."

She seemed anxious to convince me that
none of the people who knew me would do
me any harm, but this forbearance did not
extend to my men, against whom the women
were very violent. Lining the walls and
ditches, they waved their arms and shouted
at the cattle, then turned to scold us with
every epithet that rage suggested. Some
of them had stones tied up in the corners of
their aprons, with which they gave one or
two of the bailiffs smart blows enough.
Indeed, the latter were particularly afraid of
these Amazons, and fled without shame from
the sweep of the loaded apron. The horns
blew without ceasing; many shots were fired,
and the crowd continued to increase. The
cattle were hopelessly dispersed, galloping
wildly across the country, still urged by
terror. Seeing that my force was too small
to cope with the angry people and unwilling
to provoke a further collision, which might
lead to bloodshed, I followed the advice of
my protectress, who still remained near me
on the safer side of the ditch, and collecting
my men I retired across the fields, amid the
jeers and hooting of the crowd, and pursued
by a shower of stones, and a general
discharge of fire-arms.

We went at once to the nearest justice
of peace, and lodged informations for the
assault and rescue. The valiant chief bailiff
made an affidavit breathing fire and slaughter.
The mob, according to him, consisted of
several hundreds, roaring for our blood;
many shots, he swore, were aimed at me;
he saw them putting pebbles taken from the
ground into their guns, instead of balls; and
two bleeding heads, and three or four limping
legs amongst the helpers gave the affair
a very serious aspect, so that much
correspondence ensued between the magistrates,
the police, and the Castle.

But, nothing came of it. and not one of the
people ever suffered punishment for his
share in the illegal proceedings of that day.
This impunity was doubtless due to the
remarkable blindness of my men, who, although
living in the neighbourhood, and necessarily
knowing the whole population well, never
saw or recognised the faces of any of
the rioters. Even those with whom they
had closely grappled and struggled were so
disguised that their mothers would not know
them. They could only remember the
names of the women who were making peace,
and they could not, or would not, identify
one of the rioters. Simon the smith I
might recognise, but he kept out of the way,
and the threatened prosecutions fell to the
ground.

As for me, I had done enough. One more
triumphant statement of facts, describing
my adventure, in language as glowing as the
technical nature of these crabbed documents
would admit, and enlarging on the peril I
had incurred in the discharge of my duty,
and in vindicating the authority of the Court,
put to silence the cavils and the grumbling
of the discontented creditors and the angry
inheritor, and even won a panegyric on my
zeal from the caustic old Master. In the
éclat of this success, I obtained leave to
resign the receivership at the expense of the
estate, and went no more to Riggballyrann.

The Martins, as I afterwards heard, held
out for two years longer; and then the five
families went to America with the money
which should have gone to the landlord, or
rather to his creditors, aided by the considerable
sums, amounting to three or four years'
rent, which they received for the good-will,
or tenant-right of their farms from other
tenants of the lands, who themselves paid no
rent; and, who, while thus purchasing new
acquisitions, pleaded poverty as the excuse
for their default. The property became more
and more steeped in pauperism and disorder,
until at length it was cleared out by famine
and emigration. It was ultimately sold in
the Encumbered Estates Court, for about one
third of its value, and has since become
distinguished for tranquillity and good farming.
Mr. Rigg has vanished, no one can tell
where; his name, and family, and I trust his
example, are now unknown in Tipperary.

BOULOGNE WOOD.

THE Bois de Boulogne is now the most
beautiful park possessed by the Parisians.
It is situated to the north of the capital, at
the distance of about a mile from the
Barrière de l'Etoile.

The Forest of Rouvray, a portion of which is
now called the Bois de Boulogne, was, of old, a
small peninsula formed by an arm of the river
Seine. Although the first official recognition
of its existence appeared in a document
issued by Louis the Eleventh, appointing
Olivier le Daim, his barber, Grand Master of
the Woods and Forests of France, the Forest
of Rouvray holds a prominent place in the
chronicles of prior kings. As far back as the
commencement of the thirteenth century,
several rich citizens of Paris resolved (as two
train-loads did only the other day) to expiate
their sins by making a pilgrimage to a chapel