DANIEL O'ROURKE'S
Wonderful Voyage to the Moon.
People may have heard of the renowned adventures of Daniel O'Rourke but how few are there who know that the cause of all his perils, above and below, was neither more nor less than his having slept under the walls of the Phooka's tower. I knew the man well; he lived at the bottom of the Hungry Hill, just at the right hand side of the road as you go towards Bantry. An old man was he at the time that he told me the story, with gray hair, and a red nose; and it was on the 25th of June, 1813, that I heard it from his own lips, as he sat smoking his pipe under the old polar tree, on as fine as evening as he shone from the sky. I was going to visit the caves in Dursey Island, having spent the morning at Glengariff.
'I am often axed to tell it, sir,' said he, 'so that this is not the first time. The master's son, you see, had come from beyond foreign parts in France and Spain, as young gentlemen used to go, before Buonaparte or any such was heard of; and sure enough there was a dinner given to all
