"'With deep affectation and recollection I often think of the Shandon bells, Whose sounds so wild would, in days of childhood Fling round my cradle their magic spells-- On this I ponder, where'er I wander, And thus grow fonder, sweet Cork of thee With thy bells of Shandon, That sound so grand on The pleasant waters of the river Lee.'" Lucy read the four stanzas. "It's fine," agreed Chester; "and I think I can answer your question of a moment ago. Father Prout, as he says, listened to these bells in childhood days, those days when 'heaven lies about us' and glorifies even the most common places, and the impressions he then received remained with him." Lucy "guessed" he was right. Then they drove by St. Fin Barre's cathedral, considered the most noteworthy and imposing building in Cork. "'It is thought probable the poet Spenser was married in the church which formerly stood on the site,'" Lucy read. "'His bride was a Cork lady, but of the country, not of the city. Spenser provokingly asks: "'Tell me, ye merchants' daughters, did ye see So fayre a creature in your town before? Her goodlie eyes, like sapphyres shining bright; Her forehead, ivory white, Her lips like cherries charming men to byte.'" "Well," remarked Chester as they drove homeward, and he thought he was brave in doing so. "I don't know about the merchants' daughters of Cork, but I know a minister's daughter of Kansas City, Missouri, U.S.A., who tallies exactly with Spenser's description." "Why, Mr. Lawrence!" "I might say more," he persisted, "were it not for some foolish promises I made that same minister a few days ago--but here we are. Where shall we go after lunch?" "I thought we were to go to Blarney Castle." "Sure. I had forgotten. That's where the Blarney Stone is?" "Sure," repeated the girl mischievously. So that afternoon they set out. It was but a short distance by train through an interesting country. Lucy was the guide again. "Do you have an Irish language?" asked Chester. "I heard some natives talking something I couldn't understand." "Of course there's an Irish language," explained his fair instructor. "Anciently the Irish spoke the Gaelic, a branch of the Celtic. In this reign of Queen Elizabeth, the Irish language was forbidden. The English is now universal, but many still speak the Gaelic. In recent years there has been an awakening of interest in the old tongue. 'One who knows Irish well,' an Irish historian claims, 'will readily master Latin, French, Spanish, Portuguese, and Italian;' and he adds that to the Irish-speaking people, the Irish language is 'rich, elegant, soul-stirring, and expressive.'" "I can well believe the latter statement when I remember the actions of those using it," said Chester. "Here we are," announced Lucy, as they alighted and walked to the entrance of the park. "It will cost us six pence to get in."