I Was
Silly Enough To Suppose That The Protected Family Would Provide A Bowl
Of Hot Coffee For Their Protectors Through The Silent Watches Of The
Night, Or A Glass Of The Handier And Very Popular Whiskey, But Dear, Oh
No!
The most of them would not acknowledge the existence of the Royal
Irish protectors with a word or a nod no more than if they were watch
dogs.
XXXVII.
CASTLEBAR - WASTING THE LAND - CASTLE BOURKE - BALLINTUBBER ABBEY.
Castlebar is not a large town at all. It is, like all other towns which
I have yet seen in Ireland, swarming with houses licensed to sell
liquors of different kinds to be drunk on the premises. In one street I
noticed on the side of the car on which I sat every house for quite a
little distance was a licensed whiskey shop.
The country people bring in ass-loads of what they have to sell. Very
few horses are to be seen in the hands of country people. Their trading
is on a decidedly small scale. The number of women who attend market
barefoot is the large majority. The ancient blue cloth cloak is the
prevailing hap. Upon a day my friend and I went out to see the glories
of Ballintubber Abbey. It was not possible for him to go in plain
clothes so soon again; so I had the appearance of an obnoxious lady of
the land, protected by a member of the force.
We drove out of Castlebar some seven or eight miles in the opposite
direction from where Pontoon Bridge lies.
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