On an island in the centre of the valley is the cottage of the noble proprietor, accessible only by one narrow pathway which winds through hillocks and passes various rivulets on rustic bridges.

The grounds about the cottages are tastefully laid out in shrubberies, flower-knots, green pastures, and artificial lakes.

That which constitutes the chief feature of beauty in other landscapes, namely, an extensive prospect, is wanting here.

From the cottage, or any part of the grounds, you can only command a view of the limited demesne, and the craggy and bleak mountain rising almost perpendicularly from its outskirts.

But the view is unique, and the contrast exquisite between the rich green of the arbutus, amidst clumps of which sparkle the impeded mountain waters, and the barren hill-sides whose blue summits seem blended with the skies giving to the scene such an air of calm serenity and soft repose as to leave the beholder almost without a wish to look beyond.
[Illustration: Market Day in Thurles, August, 1848] By this time we had learned to lose all consciousness of our own fate in contemplating lines of beauty such as then marked the outline and radiated through every minor detail of mountain, ocean, and cosy lawn.
We dwelt on the scene with enraptured eye and heart, and scarcely felt the time glide by, which was to bring us our promised deliverer.