"A Man Works And His Family
Works On A Bit Of Ground Fencing It, Improving It, Gathering Off The
Stones;
As he improves his rent is raised; he clings to the little home;
he gets evicted and disappears into the
Grave or the workhouse, and
another takes the land at the higher rent; improves from that point; has
the rent raised, till he too falls behind and is evicted; and so it goes
on till the lands are fit for meadowing and grass, and the holdings are
run together and the homes blotted out." Of course I do not give the
man's words exactly, but I give his thoughts exactly.
Galway was something of a disappointment to me at first, it had not such
a foreign look as I expected. It is a very busy town, has every
appearance of being a thriving town, every one you meet walks with
purpose as of one who has business to attend to. It is refreshing to see
this after looking at the hopeless faces and lounging gait of the people
of many places in the west. Wherever the tall chimneys rise the people
have a quick step and an all-alive look.
I wandered about Galway, and to my great delight had a guide to point
out what was most worth looking at. Of course I heard of the bravery of
the thirteen tribes of Galway, who snapped up Galway from the
O'Flaherties and assimilated themselves to the natives as more Irish
than themselves.
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