I am told that this sympathy for France exists all over Ireland, but it is particularly visible in the south, because in the last century most of the soldiers of the brilliant Irish Brigade, that has filled such glorious pages in the annals of our military history, came from this district. The recruiting agents of the kings of France were naturally pursued by the English authorities, and consequently they experienced some very great hardships, but this circumstance has been invaluable to the Irish novelists, whose works are usually based on adventures of which these men are the heroes. The coast of Bantry Bay was almost deserted at that time, and it was therefore from there that the recruits embarked in search of the French schooners that conveyed them to Dunkerque, where the depôts of the brigade were stationed. It is said, that, in order to avoid compromising themselves, the consignees had the habit of describing the men in their bills of lading as _wild geese_. Few of them ever returned to the country. It is calculated that more than one hundred thousand died under the French flag; but those who did come back have left such vivid recollections of themselves, that here every one seems to look upon France as a second country, and imagine that they will ultimately regain their liberty through us. Yesterday, when from the railway I saw the country cottages, I thought the descriptions I had received of their poverty were greatly exaggerated. But to-day I realise that these accounts did not overstep the truth, and that appearances had greatly deceived me. The exterior is passable. Like many old houses in Perche and elsewhere, they are all built of mud tempered with cow-hair or hay, and consolidated with a few laths. As long as the roof is good, and that they are careful to frequently whitewash the exterior, these buildings are very warm in winter, very cool in summer, and they last a long time. But when any one enters them the impression is quite changed. We must first remark that the Irish are extremely prolific. Most families include six or seven children, yet as a rule the houses have only one room, ten or eleven yards long by five or six wide. To enable the whole family to sleep there they formerly resorted to very original arrangements. In one corner there was a great heap of reeds; in the evening they spread them out for a bed; the man and wife slept in the middle; the smallest boy by his father’s side, the youngest girl by her mother, and so on until they reached the eldest, who occupied the two extremities next to the pigs, who are always allowed inside. If they offered hospitality to a stranger, and this frequently occurred, the pigs were pushed a little further away. This was called sleeping “straddogue.”