'I'm after trying the paper over the fire,' he said, 'and it burned
grand. Didn't I think, when I seen you doing it there was no good in
it at all, but I put a paper over the master's (the school-master's)
fire and it flamed up. Then I pulled back the corner of the paper
and I ran my head in, and believe me, there was a big cold wind
blowing up the chimney that would sweep the head from you.'
We nearly quarrelled because he wanted me to take his photograph in
his Sunday clothes from Galway, instead of his native homespuns that
become him far better, though he does not like them as they seem to
connect him with the primitive life of the island. With his keen
temperament, he may go far if he can ever step out into the world.
He is constantly thinking.
One day he asked me if there was great wonder on their names out in
the country.
I said there was no wonder on them at all.
'Well,' he said, 'there is great wonder on your name in the island,
and I was thinking maybe there would be great wonder on our names
out in the country.'
In a sense he is right. Though the names here are ordinary enough,
they are used in a way that differs altogether from the modern
system of surnames.
