"
"Why, then, that's the _quare_ question for your honour to be after
_axing_ me. Sure all the country knows O'Sullivan of Toomies, for didn't
him, and his father before him, live at the butt end of the mountain,
near the neck of the Lawn; and wasn't they great chieftains in the
_ould_ times; and hadn't they a great sketch of country to themselves:
they haven't so much now, for their hearts were too big for their
_manes_ (means;) and that's the _rason_ O'Sullivan was obligated to sell
this part of the mountain to Mr. Herbert of Mucruss?"
"A sad story this, Doolan; but it seems to me these O'Sullivans must
have been very fond of a bowl of punch, or why is the lake you mentioned
called O'Sullivan's Punch Bowl?"
"Oh, then, your honour's as sharp as a needle entirely; but about that
same lake it's a _quare_ story sure enough. A long time before there was
a waterfall here at all, one of the _rale ould_ O'Sullivans was out all
day hunting the red deer among the mountains. Well, sir, just as he was
getting quite weary, and was wishing for a drop of the _cratur_ to put
him in spirits--"
"Or spirits into him," said I.
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