We had some curious stories, too, from a gentleman present of the relation of the priests in wild, out-of-the-way corners of Ireland to the people, stories which take one back to days long before Lever.  One, for example, of a delightful and stalwart old parish priest of eighty, upon whom an airy young patriot called to propose that he should accept the presidency of a local Land League.  The veteran, whose only idea of the Land League was that it had used bad language about Cardinal Cullen, no sooner caught the drift of the youth than he snatched up a huge blackthorn, fell upon him, and “boycotted” him head-foremost out of a window.  Luckily it was on the ground floor.

Another strenuous spiritual shepherd came down during the distribution of potato-seed to the little port in which it was going on, and took up his station on board of the distributing ship.  One of his parishioners, having received his due quota, made his way back again unobserved on board of the ship.  As he came up to receive a second dole, the good father spied him, and staying not “to parley or dissemble,” simply fetched him a whack over the sconce with a stick, which tumbled him out of the ship, head-foremost, into the hooker riding beside her!  Quite of another drift was a much more astonishing tale of certain proceedings had here in February last before the Lord Chief-Justice.  These took place in connection with a motion to quash the verdict of a coroner’s jury, held in August 1887, on the body of a child named Ellen Gaffney, at Philipstown, in King’s County, which preserves the memory of the Spanish sovereign of England, as Maryborough in Queen’s preserves the memory of his Tudor consort.  Cervantes never imagined an Alcalde of the quality of the “Crowner"’ who figures in this story.  Were it not that his antics cost a poor woman her liberty from August 1887 till December of that year, when the happy chance of a winter assizes set her free, and might have cost her her life, the story of this ideal magistrate would be extremely diverting.

A child was born to Mrs. Gaffney at Philipstown on the 23d of July, and died there on the 25th of August 1887, Mrs. Gaffney being the wife of a “boycotted” man.

A local doctor named Clarke came to the police and asked the Sergeant to inspect the body of the child, and call for an inquest.  The sergeant inspected the body, and saw no reason to doubt that the child had died a natural death.  This did not please the doctor, so the Coroner was sent for.  He came to Philipstown the next day, conferred there with the doctor, and with a priest, Father Bergin, and proceeded to hold an inquest on the child in a public-house, “a most appropriate place,” said Sir Michael Morris from the bench, “for the transactions which subsequently occurred.”  Strong depositions were afterwards made by the woman Mrs. Gaffney, by her husband, and by the police authorities, as to the conduct of this “inquest.”  She and her husband were arrested on a verbal order of