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in glory!) kept a snug little farm on the righthand side of the road that goes from Gorey to Ferns; and, though I say it, there was not a more sasty man in the county of Wexford. I, myself, was the youngest of three sons and two daughters, and the devil a more genteeler family attended Mass of a Sunday than Paddy Howlan's. My two brothers were able, strapping fellows, and faith, there were worse boys in the parish than myself. You may be sure we were real Crappies, and why but we should for our religion and country?

"The winter before the Rebellion, the Yeos* were out every night, and dreadful work they made of it-burning, whipping and shooting. A poor Catholic couldn't live at all, at all; and, as we expected that they would give us a call, we hid our pikes and guns in the ditches, and, to be sure, appeared as innocent as lambs. I shall never forget the 15th of November; no, never, while there is a drop of Irish blood in my soul; for, when I think of it, my brain boils, and my very flesh creeps, as if there was a blister all over me. Well, as I was saying, on the 15th of November I was coming home

*A contemptuous name for yeomen.

from Enniscorthy market, and being after taking a glass of the creature with one friend or another, I was pretty merry, and to make the road light, I was singing The Victim of Tyranny,' and the ould mare a-self was so pleased with the tune, that she kept the track as straight as a die, though the night was as dark as pitch.

"Just as I came to the top of the boughareen, that led down to our house, a fellow seized my beast by the halter, and while you'd be looking round you, a score of bayonets was ready to pop into poor Dennis. "Hallo!" said I, "what's this?" "You Popish rebel," cried the officer, for it was a party of the North Cork, "what song is that you were singing?"

"Och, nothing at all," said I, "only new words to an ould tune."

"Ah! then by," said he, you shall soon sing another tune, unless you tell us of all the people you know to be United Irishmen."

"Faith, and that's what I can soon do," says I, "for I know nobody." The word wasn't well out of my mouth, when he ran his sword into my arm, saying, “That's a tickler to help your memory." "Thank your honor," says I, "but as ye are not Yeos, I hope you will act

My name is

decent, and let a poor boy pass. Howlan, and never did any man an injury.” "Howlan!" cried the officer, "You are the very man we want. Have you not two brothers?" "Ay, and a father too," I answered quite calmly, though I was in a terrible pickle, with the blood streaming down my arm.

"I was then bid to drive down to my father's house, and they all kept quite close to me. The family were all in bed, and I, foolish enough, called up my poor father, then seventy years of age, and my two brothers. They came out into the lawn in their shirts, for they were so frightened they forgot to put on their clothes, and if they hadn't, they could not, for want of time.

'My father said he had no arms; and when he protested, ich was the truth, that he was no United man, the sergeant knocked him down with a pistol, and some of the soldiers began kicking of him while he lay on the ground. My brothers, of course, (for what Christian would turn informer?) refused to confess any thing, and accordingly the eldest was taken and tied to a car, and a drummer-boy proceeded to flog him at a desperate rate, while one of the

party, to give him light, set fire to the barn. As the flames mounted up to the skies, I could see my brother's back, hackled like a raw griskin, while the poor fellow refused to gratify his murderers with a single groan. My mother rushed out, and falling on her knees, beseeching the villains to forbear, but one of the soldiers gave her a kick in the stomach, and stretched her on the pavement.

"Knowing how soldiers then treated young girls, I made signs to my sisters, who had come to the door, to shut it, and remain inside. They did so, before the soldiers could prevent them; and one of them having seen what I had done, told the others, and in a minute there were a dozen stabs in my body. My eldest brother was then released, and the other tied up in his place, when my father, who had recovered, rushed forward and seized the drummer's arm. Poor man! the savages had no pity on his tears, and he received several stabs!'

"Here Denis was overpowered by his feelings, and after hastily wiping away one or two natural drops from his cheek, continued:

"I was now questioned about United men, and arms, and as I also refused to make any discovery, they took and bound my hands be

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hind me, and then, taking the halter from the mare's head, they placed it around my neck, and raising the car up, hung me out of the back band. They were too cruel to let me die a natural death, and so cut me down a few minutes afore I went to Paradise. I can't tell anything about that time, but my ould mother told me that my face was as black as a pot, and my tongue a bandle long. The first thing I recollect, after being hanged, was to see the poor ould house in flames, the soldiers having set fire to it, to get my sisters out, but they were disappointed, as the girls had made their escape while they were hanging me.

"To make a long story short,' continued Denis, my father, myself, and two brothers were thrown into the cart, and marched off to Fern. Next day my father died in the guard house; and after a week's confinement, my brothers and I were turned out with pitched caps upon our heads.* We had now no house,

*It is said that the North Cork Regiment were the inventors-but they certainly were the introducers of pitchcap torture into the county of Wexford, Any person having their hair cut short, (and therefore called a Croppy, by which appellation the soldiery designated a United Irishman,) on being pointed out by some loyal neighbor, was immediately seized and brought into a guard house, where caps, either of coarse linen or strong brown paper, besmeared inside with pitch, were kept always