We could not find the officer I sought at the hotel, but Father Keller took me to a livery-man in the main street, who very promptly got out a car with "his best horse," and a jarvey who would "surely take me over to Lismore inside of two hours and a half." He was as good as his master's word, and a delightful drive it was, following the course of Spenser's river, the Awniduffe, "which by the Englishman is called Blackwater." Nobody now calls it anything else.

The view of Youghal Harbour, as we made a great circuit by the bridge on leaving the town, was exceedingly fine.

Lying as it does within easy reach of Cork, this might be made a very pleasant summer halting-place for Americans landing at Queenstown, who now go further and probably fare worse.

One Western wanderer, with his family, Father Keller told me, did last year establish himself here, a Catholic from Boston, to whom a son was born, and who begged the Father to give the lad a local name in baptism, "the oldest he could think of." I should have thought St.Declan would have been "old" enough, or St.
Nessan of "Ireland's Eye," or Saint Cartagh, who made Lismore a holy city, "into the half of which no woman durst enter," sufficiently "local," but Father Keller found in the Calendar a more satisfactory saint still in St.Goran or "Curran," known also as St.Mochicaroen _de Nona_, from a change he made in the recitation of that part of the Holy Office.
The drive from Youghal to Lismore along the Blackwater, begins, continues, and ends in beauty.

In the summer a steamer makes the trip by the river, and it must be as charming in its way as the ascent of the Dart from Dartmouth to Totness, or of the Eance from Dinard to St.
Suliac.