On the railway between Dundalk and Newry, we passed a spot known by the ominous name of "The Hill of the Seven Murders," seven agents having been murdered there since 1840! I suppose this must be set down to the force of habit.

At Newry a cavalry officer whom Lord Ernest knew got into our carriage.

He was full of hunting, and mentioned a place to which he was going as a "very fine country." "From the point of view of the picturesque ?" I asked.
"Oh no! from the point of view of falling off your horse!" At Maple's Hotel I found a most hospitable telegram, insisting that I should give up my intention of spending the night at Maryborough, and come on to this lovely place in my host's carriage, which would be sent to meet me at that station.

I left Kingsbridge Station in Dublin about 7 P.M.We had rather a long train, and I observed a number of people talking together about one of the carriages before we started; but there was no crowd at all, and nothing to attract special attention.

As we moved out of the station, some lads at the end of the platform set up a cheer.