MR PARNELL AT HOME.

Waikato Times, Volume XVI, Issue 1359, 17 March 1881, Page 3

MR PARNELL AT HOME.

-" Since I forsook agriculture for politics," said Mr Parnell, "I have not slept she nights at Avondale House." The chief' agitator's "country seat is an' unpretending residence situated on a slope of the Wicklow mountains,, with a beautiful view of forest, river, and dale from the windows of the living rooms. It has a rather barren and neglected look, its whitewashed and exterior harmonising but ill with the tints of the meadowland stretching in a semicircle, bounded by lofty trees, in front of the house. The house was built by Mr Parnell's grandfather, and on the lock of the entrance* door the date 1779 is inscribed. On crossing the threshold the visitor finds himself in a square hall of moderate dimensions, along one side of which' there runs /a; gallery overhead, leading to the sleeping apartments. The most conspicuous object in the hall is a billiard -table, across the slates of which no ball has, to judge from appearances, rattled for generations. The walls are decorated with the horns of an ancient Irish elk, with hunting spears and other implements of warfare and chase. A log-fire burns on a spacious open hearth. As the visitor stands examining the place, an aged dame floats out of a side apartment, and, expressing surprise at the visit, asks " Manter Charles if he wishes that she should provide breakfast. The master gives the nod, and then requests his guests to step round the house with him. MrPamellia a man of singularly mild and gracious manner in private life, but one's eyes are constantly directed inquiringly to the cold and bloodless face in the endeavour to reconcile the frigid exterior with the courtesy of the lips. The parlour of Arondale House it neither homely nor cheerful, and the atmosphere of the room is that of the Laureate's forsaken dwelling. One could fancy that the coverings had just been drawn off the furniture at the expiration ofa .Chancery suit. The pictures are expressionless, and of no great merit ; bat there is a rich enamelled fire-place, the work of an Italian artist, whose method of execution, Mr Parnell (thinks, has become a lost art. The marble of this chef-d-otuvre is inlaid' in coloured earths, delicately shaded and twisted into fantastic festoons of flowers. A volume of Carlyle's " Miscellanies" lies on a small table beside the fire, but the. presence of this symptom of life is accounted for by the fact that one of Mr Parnell's sisters from across the Atlantic has been residing for some months unde.r her brother's roof. The drawing-room has been painted and ornamented by the same Italian artist spoken of above, the chief feature of the work being a number of cleverly wrought medallions containing sea- views. Various Blue-books are scattered about the apartment, having refer* ence principally to Irish matters, such as fisheries and agricultural returns. There is scarcely a modern work among these ; but there are many old calf-bound editions of the Classics, and a comprehensive collection of all the .English authors of note from Piers Plowman downwards. "An ancestor of yours has been immortalised by Dr Johnson I believe P" remarked a guest, taking down a volume of the Lives of Poets." "He belonged to a branch of the Parnell family, but is not a relative in the direct line," was the reply. Mr Parnell is no great reader. The onjy books of recent date, or of apparent recent use, to be seen were a few novels aud about a dozen volumes relating to Ireland such as the "Irish in America," and some histories of the country. When I have' any leisure, I employ my time in working ont new mechanical contrivances,'' said Mr Parnell ; • 'and in helping to fit in its place the water-wheel of my saw-mill, I nearly had this finger out off," lifting up a much scarified finger. In the corner of the library is a colleotion of old volunteor banners, belonging to the Wicklow volunteers before the '98 rebellion. These are somewhat torn and disfigured, but the first Land Leaguer takes much pride in them, since they belonged to bla great grandfather, who was colonel of the regiment. One of these ensigns bears the following inscription : " Independent Wicklow," with the motto, Vetox el acer et JidelU amicis, and an Iriuh wolfdog for crest. Above Avondale House, and beyond the amphitheatre of trees, is a clear level space, which had been used by Mr Parnell's father as a cricket-ground. "My father was captain of tha Eton Eleven," observed Mr Parnell, "and I was always fond of cricket myself before I took to politics." From this spot a view of several of the battle-fields of the Uebellion is obtained, with a magnificent sight of the Kerry mountains and the waters meeting in the Vale of Avoca. Mr Parnell is very abstemious,.drinking little but water or tea. He smokes a great deal and is never in want of a good " weed," which he proffers very liberally to his friends. At tbe same time he keeps a neat little wine cellar. , and can, when the occasidn arises, regale his guests with a choice vintage. In other respects his style of living is very homely.' His only retainers are the venerable matron we have already seen, and a man who looks afterhis horse, the garden, and general affairs of the house. In the intervals of agitation he is a great rider, a- moderate keen sportsman, something of a farmer, aud often speaks of himself as a Cincinnatus who has been regretfully compelled to relinquish his cabbages. Mr Parnell has always been a more or less solitary man, seeing little company, and leading an introspective life. He has, plans and objects beyond those which he has yet unfolded ; but he has no objection to enter fully into a discussion of the merits of his case. It is noticeable that he is ready to catch up quickly and assimilate to his purposes any fact, idea, or phrase that may be casually dropped in conversation, or mentioned in newspapers. One of Mr Parnell's sisters has gained some reputation as the writer of stirring nationafistip verses. "Myajater at home "with me does not care very much for poetry," observed Mr Parnell; and looking at this tall slender man of thirty-four years, with the iron face of a ,Hvid ( hue, one could imagine ' that there might be moments in" his life when he also was in1 different to the Muses.— Tfie World. "'