"What's to be seen?" asked Tim.

"A hill," said Bartley.

"Oh, if it's only a hill, I'll stay here and take a sleep," said Tim.

Well, they left Tim in the cart, and Bartley and Finn went up a laneway and crossed a wall of loose stones. Then they went up the slope of a grassy hill. Such a wide view as they had when they came to the top! The hill was not high, but the country for miles and miles around was level and Finn could see the blue of distant hills and the gleam of far rivers. Bartley faced him towards the south.

"Look over there," he said, "Dublin is in that direction."

Finn expected to see the houses of the city but he saw only a haze. Bartley told him that that was the smoke over Dublin.

"Do you know where you are now, Finn?" Bartley asked.

"No," said Finn.

"You are on the Hill of Tara."

Tara—that was where the King of Ireland lived when Finn MacCoul served him! Finn looked round expecting to see castles somewhere. But all he saw was grass—the greenest grass in Ireland, and furze-bushes covered with golden blossoms and yellow-blossoming broom in the hedges.

"There is nothing here now," said Finn, "no castles and no ruins."

"No, nor the trace of a single house," said Bartley.

As they moved across the hill they met a priest coming towards them. He was a low-sized man, inclined to stoutness, and he wore a hat that was unusual amongst the priests of Ireland—a very wide-brimmed hat.

When they came near he spoke to Bartley. The priest's voice was very pleasant, for it was musical and friendly. While he spoke to he took snuff and Finn noticed that there were traces of snuff on the folds of his coat.

"So you've come to see the house of the High-King," he said. "Well, I can show you where it stood."

He took Finn and Bartley where a low ridge made a long enclosure in the grass.

"The buildings here were of wood—of strong oak wood, but even oak cannot last against time. If they had been built like the round towers, with stone and the great Irish mortar, they would have been standing now. Well, it is over a thousand years since the King of Ireland lived here. And does any little boy now know anything that happened while the Kings of Ireland were at Tara?"

"The King made Finn MacCoul captain of the Fianna of Ireland," said Finn shyly.

"I see you remember the stories," said the priest. "And who was the King who made Finn MacCoul captain of the Fianna of Ireland?"

"Cormac, the son of Art," said Finn.

"So the stories say," said the priest. And then he went on repeating the description of Cormac that is given in the old books:—

"Beautiful was the appearance of Cormac in the assembly. His hair was golden, flowing and slightly-curling, and he carried a red buckler with stars and animals of gold and fastenings of silver. His cloak was of crimson and it was fastened at the breast by a golden brooch set with precious stones; a twisted band of gold was round his neck and his full collar was intertwined with golden threads. A girdle of gold inlaid with precious stones was around him and his shoes had embroidery of gold. The two spears in his hands had golden sockets."

The priest took snuff and said, "There was a King for you! He must have looked handsome when he was making young Finn MacCoul the captain of the Fianna of Ireland."

Bartley and the priest walked over to another enclosure and Finn was behind them as they crossed the grass of the hill, and he heard his uncle tell the priest how he came to have the name of Finn and how his grandfather had made him familiar with the stories of ancient Ireland.

"You know all about the heroes, I hear," said the priest, turning round to him. "I hope you know something about the saints, too."

"I know about Saint Patrick," said Finn. "He came here to Tara."

"Well, go back on the story and tell us about Saint Patrick before he came to Tara."

"When he was a little boy, Patrick was living with his father and mother in France or in Scotland. Then an Irish Pagan King named Niall   was he who brought St. Patrick into Ireland as a captive. He began to reign in the year 379 A. D. He is called \"King Niall of the Nine Hostages,\" in Irish history, because he took hostages from several provinces in Ireland and Scotland which he had subdued. He also invaded England and France.") ?> brought an army to the place where he was reared and he was taken a prisoner. He was brought to the North of Ireland and given to a farmer who made him mind pigs in a forest. But Patrick always said his prayers and God watched over him. He heard that a ship had come to a certain place and that it was going back to his own country. Patrick went out of the forest and came to the place where the ship was. He went back in it to his own country and stayed with his own people for a long time. But then he began to dream that the people of Ireland were calling to him and asking him to go back to them and teach them about God. He went back to Ireland and came to the North where he had been a servant boy minding pigs in the forest. He came to Tara then, but I don't remember well that part of his story."

"Sit down on the grass here, and we'll look over the way that Patrick came to Tara and I'll tell you what happened to him when he came. That's the Hill of Slane over there, and Patrick stayed on it the night before he came to Tara. Now the High King at the time was Laery.  (Laeghaire). He reigned from A. D. 430 to A. D. 460. In his reign Saint Patrick returned to Ireland as the apostle of Christianity.") ?> All the Druids of Ireland were with him that night, for the day after was the great pagan festival. The Druids were to light the sacred fire on Tara, and all the fires of Ireland were to be lighted from it. In the meantime every fire was quenched and none were to be lighted before the sacred fire was kindled. So when the King and the Druids stood where we are now, they saw no smoke nor blaze in the country around.

"But besides being the Pagan festival of the lighting of the fires, the next day was the festival of Easter. Patrick, when he came to Slane, lighted the Easter fire before the Druids had kindled the Pagan one. And when the King saw the blaze on the Hill he was enraged and he ordered the horses to be yoked to his chariot and he took with him a swordsman and a spearsman and he drove to Slane. And when he came there he saw Patrick standing beside the forbidden fire with the Gospels in his hand. And King Laery knew that he was a stranger and a learned man. It was against the laws of Ireland to injure a stranger who was a learned man, so the King did not order the death of Patrick. He commanded him to appear before him the next day and explain his mission. Then the King drove back and he told his Druids and his learned men about Patrick and he forbade any of them to show him honor when he appeared before them the next day.

"Patrick waited until sunrise. Standing on the Hill of Slane he held up his hands to the rising Sun of Easter and he made a hymn invoking the protection of the Trinity. Patrick said:—

"The King's sessions were held in the open air. That day the Princes of Ireland stood around the King with the Druids, and the learned men and a great multitude of people were about the slope of the Hill. Then Saint Patrick appeared and his bearing was so majestic that in spite of the King's command two people stood up to do him honour. He spoke to the King and Princes, to the Druids and learned men and to the people, about the King who had died to save them. The learned men questioned him and the Druids disputed with him but they were not able to overcome him in argument.

"One asked him how could there be Three Persons in the One God, and Patrick plucked a piece of shamrock from the ground and held it up before them. 'The three leaves,' he said, 'make the one plant.'

"The King was satisfied with that statement, and although he did not become a Christian himself he gave Patrick permission to preach Christianity through Ireland."

"That was a long time ago," said Bartley.

"Finn will tell us the date," said the priest.

"It was in the year 432," said Finn.

"I wonder were the larks singing as well that day as they are singing today," said the priest. He turned and gazed on the country around. "It is no wonder," he said, "that the poets of ancient Ireland thought that every great man on Tara was 'the familiar knee of our Island.' The men reared here were bound to know and love Ireland."

He went down towards the road, Bartley walking with him, and Finn going behind. Finn heard the priest tell that his name was Father Niall Gildea and that he had been in France. He was in Ireland for a year's holiday. He liked talking to boys like Finn about Ireland's past. Long ago he was teaching in Ireland and he was misguided enough to give the boys in his charge a contempt for the language and the history of his country. Nothing good could come of such teaching, he said. Now that he was back in Ireland he would strive to make boys understand the worth of their country's past.

They came out on the road and went up to the cart. Tim was lying face down across the sack and the pigeon was on his shoulder eating grains out of his hand.