[Illustration: _Photo, Lawrence, Dublin._ Cahirciveen.] Ballycarbery's ruined castle, too, deserves attention. In ancient times it was the fortress of Carbery O'Shea, whose tide-swept tomb is still to be seen. Then it passed into the hands of Owen More's descendants, and from them to the O'Connells. When the Spaniards sent their "ale" over to Erin, and the Kerry women borrowed one another's cloaks to go to Spain to sell eggs and dulisc, Ballycarbery, commanding the harbour's mouth, was a place frequented by mariners and merchantmen from many a Spanish port. There is a story of Morgan of the Wine and a Spanish Captain worth re-telling. Two O'Connells lived in Ballycarbery together, one brother, Shawn, occupying the lower portion, and the other, Morgan, living in the upper apartments. Both at the same moment invited a Spanish captain, who had come into the port, to dine with them. The foreigner, embarrassed by their hospitality, and not wishing to show an undue preference--as neither brother would give way--agreed to give his company to whichever gentleman had his repast cooked first. The brothers repaired with speed to the castle, and Morgan was chagrined when he had mounted to his rooms, to find that Shawn had barricaded the entrance behind him, to prevent his servants from drawing water to cook the dinner. But he was not to be foiled, for, broaching a cask of wine, he cooked in it what he wanted, and as his dinner was first prepared, the Spaniard and his brother Shawn were his guests! In the wars of the Commonwealth the castle was reduced. ~Derriana Lake~, in the bed of the mountains--with wisps of mist on its further shores--is like a dream picture. The fair isle floating in its centre is freighted down with oak and arbutus trees standing out in relief against the mountain, and reflected in the mirror-faced waters. The coloured setting of the surroundings is exquisite. The cliffs bristle crest high with rigid firs, the young oak copse is entangled with an undergrowth of guelder rose, and in the sedges near the heron-frequented reeds, white water lilies open their wonderful eyes. Close by, ~Cloonaghlin Lake~, when it is dark with mountain shadows and frowning clouds, is sufficiently desolate to awe the least susceptible, but when auspiciously the sky is brightened, we feel-- "Truly the light is sweet, and A pleasant thing it is for the Eyes to behold the sun." The shadows recede into the depths of the water or the hollows of the hills, the many colours of the trees show themselves; and song-birds begin anew their music, as though a great hawk had been near, and had passed them by scathless. VALENCIA ISLAND