He had a curiously mixed
expression of hardness and melancholy. Probably his character has
given him a bad reputation on the island, and he lives here with the
restlessness of a man who has no sympathy with his companions.
I have come over again to Inishmaan, and this time I had fine
weather for my passage. The air was full of luminous sunshine from
the early morning, and it was almost a summer's day when I set sail
at noon with Michael and two other men who had come over for me in a
curagh.
The wind was in our favour, so the sail was put up and Michael sat
in the stem to steer with an oar while I rowed with the others.
We had had a good dinner and drink and were wrought up by this
sudden revival of summer to a dreamy voluptuous gaiety, that made us
shout with exultation to hear our voices passing out across the blue
twinkling of the sea.
Even after the people of the south island, these men of Inishmaan
seemed to be moved by strange archaic sympathies with the world.
Their mood accorded itself with wonderful fineness to the
suggestions of the day, and their ancient Gaelic seemed so full of
divine simplicity that I would have liked to turn the prow to the
west and row with them for ever.
