He said it was, but not entirely well. I asked the man in
the booth if he had ever seen anything. He said that he did not come
there to see anything, but to make a living. He and the American had
both bits of the original plaster, which they showed to me.
The priest of the place was not at home. He lives in a cottage down the
hill a bit, in sight of the church. I had seen all there was to be seen,
so I made my purchase and bid good-bye to Knock, and drove back to
Claremorris.
Claremorris is a nice enough little town, very quiet, as if not much of
any great work was going on. Where there are factories I notice the
people step quickly and look straight ahead. Over towns which depend on
the trading of the country round there is an air of repose and leisure.
I did not see much of Claremorris, for I soon left it behind in going to
Ballinrobe by car.
The land here seems very rich. I remarked this to my travelling
companions, who told me that I was on the rich plains of Mayo. The
fields are large and well cultivated. There were no signs of the abject
poverty, wee, stony fields, horrible rookeries of houses that exist in
the shadow of the Ox hills. Not that the houses of the laborers here
were good; for that, a good, decent laborer's house, I have not yet seen
in Ireland, except on Mr. Young's Galgorm estate.
