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'O! the sound of the Kerry dancing.'.
'The light-hearted daughters of Erin, Like the wild mountain deer they can bound; Their feet never touch the green island, But music is struck from the ground.
And oft in the glens and green meadows, The ould jig they dance with such grace, That even the daisies they tread on, Look up with delight in their face.' James M'Kowen.
One of our favourite diversions is an occasional glimpse of a 'crossroads dance' on a pleasant Sunday afternoon, when all the young people of the district are gathered together.

Their religious duties are over with their confessions and their masses, and the priests encourage these decorous Sabbath gaieties.

A place is generally chosen where two or four roads meet, and the dancers come from the scattered farmhouses in every direction.

In Ballyfuchsia, they dance on a flat piece of road under some fir-trees and larches, with stretches of mountain covered with yellow gorse or purple heather, and the quiet lakes lying in the distance.