The Letters Of
The Letters Of "Norah" On Her Tour Through Ireland By Margaret Dixon Mcdougall - Page 133 of 208 - First - Home

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One Gentleman Defined It As Ceremonious Manners, The Result Of Early Training; While Another Objected That That Was Only The Veneer Of Manners, As All True Politeness Arose From The Heart.

I listened awhile and then spoke across the seat to a decent, dejected looking man with a little bundle beside him tied up in a blue and white check handkerchief.

"Yes, he was going to England to look for work; many had to go for the work was not to be had at home." "The rents were so high, and the taxes, what with one thing and another, there was a new cut always coming heavier than the last." "The people are being crushed out of the country very fast, and that was God's truth." "And you are from America? It is a fine country they say. I would be there long ago but for the heavy care I have here that I can neither take with me nor leave behind." "Yes, I go over to England every year. For a good many years past I have always worked for the same man, ever since I went there first." "It grows harder to live in Ireland every year."

I told this man amid the craned necks and open mouths of his companions, some of the advantages of Canada as a home. I do not know why it is that the people know so little of Canada. I was listened to with exclamations of "Well, well!" "Boys a boys!" "Dear O dear!" "Hear that, now! A man might live there!"

Getting at last across the Mayo plains to Claremorris, I parted from my acquaintances with many a "God bless you," while many hands lifted out my travelling bags. At Claremorris a car man asked if I was a pilgrim for Knock which was the first intimation that I had that I was in the vicinity of Knock. Hired this car man, who was also owner of the car, to drive me there. I have always heard that those born on Christmas Day are privileged to see apparitions. I have not yet come into that part of my inheritance, but do not know how soon I may.

On the way, which led through a well-cultivated, fertile country, waving with trees, and showing glimpses of great houses peeping out among them, the driver asked me if I had ever heard of Captain Boycott. I said there were few who had not. "He used to live in that house up there; he was agent in this part of the country, but he left us, thank God." "What made people dislike him so?" "Because he was the height of a great tyrant." "Come now, what did he do?" "Everything he could do to oppress the creatures who were in his power. I have known a man come home to his little family with three shillings for his week's wages, all the rest scratched off him in fines. If you have a family yourself you will understand what their living would be when they paid the rent of the cabin.

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