Right in front of her, and looking alternately from her to a man to whom she is talking, stands a middle-aged woman of good-natured but terrified aspect. A checked and ragged handkerchief confines her black, rough hair--a torn red cloak covers a portion of her body, and a curious collection of rags and tatters makes a vain effort to shelter the rest. In the large hood of the red cloak a hardy-looking infant is tied up, its little head and hand being alone visible, which are engaged in munching and holding a crust of bread. At the feet of the woman are sundry articles, amongst which a bundle of rags, an iron pot, and a tin saucepan, are the most conspicuous. The man to whom she is talking is a tall, gaunt specimen of Irish poverty and famine. He holds a rake and pitchfork in his hand, and leans upon them for support. Gazing into his face is a rough, surly-looking youth, who seems cordially to agree with all that he says. Leaning against the wall that flanks the gate on the side opposite that which supports the girl, are another man and woman, who cast from time to time pitying glances at the pale face beneath the straw bonnet. These are as raggedly picturesque in their attire as the rest--a short red petticoat, a blanket substituted for a shawl, and a bundle on the back, distinguish the female; a long great coat and short trousers the male. They are deep in conversation upon the common theme. A young man of more stalwart figure stands beside the girl, and failing to attract her attention, kneels down on one knee and speaks low to her. A little boy is seated at her feet, alternately stroking her hands, and stirring up a small puddle of water with a short stick. Two other children are engaged at a little distance in making a lean cur beg for a mouthful of bread, which the generous urchins would evidently rather share with the dog than eat alone. The one prevailing feature of the party is rags, and how they hold together no tongue can tell. At last there is a general movement, as well as general clamour of voices and much gesticulation. All, old and young, with the exception of the girl, gather round the woman in the red cloak, and seem to be urging her to do something that she does not like to do. They point to the girl, and the appeal is not in vain. The woman moves slowly and somewhat sulkily towards one of the boys, takes him by the hand, and returning to the gate, opens it, and walks down the good broad road that leads to the farm, the boy trotting by her side. We watch the bright red cloak till it disappears amongst the trees that surround the house; and turn again to wonder what can be the matter with the girl. She neither moves nor speaks, although her kindly companions in turn endeavour to attract her attention.