the deep, to manage for himself as he best could. The boat returned, the
family retired to rest, and next morning a servant awakened her master
to tell him that the seal was quietly sleeping in the oven. The poor
animal over night came back to his beloved home, crept through an open
window, and took possession of his favourite resting-place.

Next morning another cow was reported to be unwell. The seal must now
be finally removed; a Galway fishing-boat was leaving Westport on her
return home, and the master undertook to carry off the seal, and not
put him overboard until he had gone leagues beyond Innis Boffin. It was
done--a day and night passed; the second evening closed--the servant
was raking the fire for the night--something scratched gently at the
door--it was of course the house-dog---she opened it, and in came the
seal! Wearied with his long and unusual voyage, he testified by a
peculiar cry, expressive of pleasure, his delight to find himself at
home, then stretching himself before the glowing embers of the hearth
he fell into a deep sleep.

The master of the house was immediately apprized of this unexpected
and unwelcome visit. In the exigency, the beldame was awakened and
consulted; she averred that it was always unlucky to kill a seal, but
suggested that the animal should be deprived of sight, and a third time
carried out to sea. To this hellish proposition the besotted wretch who
owned the house consented, and the affectionate and confiding creature
was cruelly robbed of sight, on that hearth for which he had resigned
his native element! Next morning, writhing in agony, the mutilated seal
was embarked, taken outside Clare Island, and for the last time
committed to the waves.

A week passed over, and things became worse instead of better; the