round my premises, six feet wide and two
feet deep; and this trench the Irish earth
shall fill."

"And do you really believe that Australian
snakes will be kept away by your Irish
soil, Sir Henry?" said the Major.

"Believe? Of course, I do! I am quite
certain of it," responded Hayes. "This very
day I have written to my friend in Ireland,
and told him to employ an agent to carry out
my wishes, and have the bog-earth taken
down to Cork for shipment. Now, the
favour I have to ask of you is this: to write,
in your official capacity, a letter to my agent,
which I will enclose to him—such a letter as
will lead the captains and doctors of the
ships that touch at Cork, to fill up the
complement of convicts for these shores, to
suppose that the soil is for government, and
required for botanical purposes; and further
I want you to allow it to be consigned to
yourself or the colonial secretary. Each ship
might remove a quantity of its stone ballast
and put the casks of bog in its stead. By
these means I should get it all the quicker."

"My husband endeavoured to laugh Sir
Henry out of his idea; but in vain. He
was firm, and said:

"If you won't assist me, I must instruct
them to charter a ship for the especial purpose,
and that would cost a very serious sum
of money."

My husband, of course, could not think
of acting in the matter without previously
obtaining the consent of the Governor, who
was so amused at the superstitious character
of Hayes's enterprise, that his Excellency
caused the required letter to be written, and
handed to him.

About a year afterwards, the first instalment
of the soil arrived—some forty barrels—
and was conveyed from Sydney to Vaucluse
(a distance of six miles) by water; and
within the next year the entire quantity had
reached its destination. The trench, in the
meantime, had been dug, and all was now
ready for "circumventing," as Sir Henry
expressed it, "the premises and the vipers at
one blow."

My husband and myself and a large
party of ladies and gentlemen went down to
Vaucluse in the government barges to
witness the operation of filling in the trench.
The superintendent of convicts—a country-man
of Hayes, and who believed as implicitly
as Hayes himself did in the virtue of Irish
soil with regard to vipers—lent Sir Henry
barrows and shovels and a gang consisting of
seventy-five men—all of them Irishmen—in
order to complete the work as rapidly as
possible. Sir Henry, in person, superintended,
and was alternately pathetic and jocular.
Some of his running commentaries on Saint
Patrick and his wonderful powers, and some
snatches of song that he sang in honour of
the saint, convulsed with laughter all those
who stood around him. The work over, one
or two of the men asked for a small quantity
of the sacred earth, and Sir Henry said:

"Well, take it and welcome; but I would
rather have given you its weight in gold."

Strange to say, from that time forward, Sir
Henry Hayes was not visited by snakes. They
did not vacate the grounds in the vicinity of
Vaucluse, but none were ever seen within
the magic circle formed of the Irish earth.

Whether the charm is worn out, and whether
the Wentworths are invaded as was Sir
Henry, I know not. But this I know, that
Captain Piper, who held the appointment of
naval officer in the colony, to whom
Vaucluse was subsequently granted, and from
whom Mr. Wentworth purchased it, assured
me that, during the many years he lived there
with his family, no venomous reptile had
ever been killed or observed within Hayes's
enclosures, notwithstanding they were
plentiful enough beyond it.

I wish the reader to understand that I
have simply related the above story as it
was told to me, and that I do not offer any
opinion as to the efficacy or otherwise of
Irish soil in keeping away Australian snakes
from any spot upon which it may be placed.

After a pause, the old lady resumed:
I ought to have mentioned that it was on
the seventeenth of March, Saint Patrick's
Day, that this curious ceremony was
performed, and that at its conclusion, at
half-past four in the afternoon, we dined with
Sir Henry in a large tent formed of the old
sails of a ship, which were lent to him for
the occasion by the captain of the vessel then
lying in the harbour. Sir Henry was in
excellent spirits, and, when the evening closed
in, he sang several Irish melodies with great
sweetness and pathos. To every one present
he made himself extremely agreeable, and, on
the whole, I never spent a happier day in my
life, albeit I was the guest of a Special convict.

            MY VISION.

  I HEARD the voice of Ages
    Low whisper through the gloom:
   The haunted tones that chill
   When the restless heart is still
     'Neath the shadow of the tomb.
       It whisper' d with its icy breath—
       "Maiden, why shrink from Death?"

  I answer'd, I am young and fair;
    I had a sister, too,
   And, to our souls, life was a path
     Whereon bright flowers grew.
      She died. I had but one—no more.
      My dream of flowers is o'er!

  My soul was glad, ere that dim shade
    Pass'd twixt the sun and me,
   I said; there's darkness o'er the land,
     And gloom upon the sea.
       Whisper again, thou icy breath,
       And tell me, was it Love, or Death?