This ruin has been patched
over, clumsily but earnestly, so that hardly a speck of the original
ruin is left. It was delightful to listen to our Milesian guide. My
companion was bound to get some information out of him. He was cautious,
not knowing who we were or what design we might have to entangle him in
his talk; he was determined that he would not give the desired
information. He conquered. The ruins were not worth sixpence altogether
to look at, but I gave him sixpence as a tribute to genius. And so in
the dim evening we drove back to Sligo.
XXX.
SLIGO'S GOOD LANDLORDS - THE POLICE AND THEIR DUTIES - A DOUBTFUL
COMPLIMENT - AN AMAZON.
It has been something wonderful to me that when I left Leitrim, I
seemed to have left all bad landlords behind me. Every one I came in
contact with in Sligo, rich or poor, had something to say about a good
landlord. Some were thoughtfully kind and considerate, of which they
gave me numerous instances; others if the kind actions were unknown,
positively unkind ones were unknown also, so their portraits came out in
neutral tints. I conversed with high Tories and admirers of the Land
League, but heard only praise of Sligo's lords of the soil. I thought I
should leave Sligo, believing it an exceptional place, but just before I
left I heard two persons speak of one bad landlord of Sligo.
On May 18th I left the green valleys of Sligo behind and took passage on
the long car for Ballina. I found that the long car was to be shared
with a contingent of police, who were returning to their several
stations after lawfully prowling round the country protecting bailiffs
and process-servers in their unpopular work. I cannot believe that these
quiet, repressed conservators of the peace can possibly feel proud of
their duties. These duties must often - and very often - be repugnant to
the heart of any man who has a heart, and I suppose the majority of them
have hearts behind their trim jackets. I liked to look at these men,
they are so trim, clean, self-respectful. They have also a well-fed
appearance, which is comfortable to notice after looking at the hungry-
looking, tattered people, from whom they protect the bailiffs.
We passed Balasodare - I did not stop, for I felt that it was better to
get this disagreeable journey over at once.
We stopped at a place called Dromore west, to change horses and to
change cars. We had dropped the police, a few at a time, as we came
along, so that now the car was not by any means crowded. We all stood on
the road while the change of horses was being made. It was slow work,
and I went into a shop near to ask for a glass of water.
