The process was a very simple one. A process of eviction was served, the tenant and his family would be pitched out into the road, and the cottage be leveled to the ground. This was originally done with crowbars, but crowbars were too slow. A mechanical genius, who was a landlord and had a great deal of eviction to do, invented a machine to facilitate the process. It was an elaborate arrangement of ropes, and pulleys, and iron dogs, and all that sort of thing, which could be run up beside a cabin and tear the miserable structure down in a few minutes and save a great deal in the way of labor. This is the only labor-saving machine Irish landlordism has ever produced. Any system that does not permit the marriage of two persons of sound bodies and minds and of the proper age, is an infamy that should be wiped out at no matter what cost, and no matter what means. [Sidenote: BANTRY VILLAGE.] I was walking down a street in Bantry, when I came to a little grocery store, with a ladder projecting over the wretched [Illustration: AFTER A WHOLESALE EVICTION.] sidewalk. My Lord Bantry, who owns, or professes to, every foot of the ground in the village, is not willing to put the sidewalks in good order. His tenants, who pay him ground rent, built their own homes and are expected to build the sidewalks and keep them in order if they want them. Otherwise they may walk in the mud. My Lord Bantry has his carriage, but he never drives through the village. He does not like to see distress. This grocery was the property of an old lady of seventy, and perched on the ladder was a girl of about seven teen--her grandchild. She was using a paint brush as vigorously, if not as skillfully, as any male painter that ever lived. We halted a minute and greeted her. Unclosing a pair of very rosy lips and showing a magnificent row of teeth (it might have been a pride in the teeth that made her open her mouth so wide, but, if so, it was pardonable!), she exclaimed: [Illustration: THE "FIRSHT FAYMALE PAINTHER IN OIRLAND!"] "I am the firsht faymale painther in Oirland! Have ye a job ye can give me?" And she laughed a very cheery laugh at the little pleasantry. There was with us a boatman whom we had employed for a sail on the bay. As we passed, he looked back with a pleased expression. "Nancy, there, on the ladther, is my gurl." [Sidenote: THE BOATMAN AND NANCY.] We congratulated him on his good fortune, for Nancy was a bright, handsome, buxom, cheery girl, who was just the kind that such a man should marry. "You are to marry her?" "Yes, some time." "Why not now?" "Marry her now! What on? She has her grandmudther to care for, I have my fadther and mudther, and there is but little boating to do, and the rint is to pay jist the same. I have lived in Ameriky, and want to get back, but I won't go widout Nancy, and God knows whin I shall git enough to go wid her." "Why don't you marry her and take the chances."