Irish airs
like 'Eileen Aroon' please them better, but it is only when I play
some jig like the 'Black Rogue' - which is known on the island - that
they seem to respond to the full meaning of the notes. Last night I
played for a large crowd, which had come together for another
purpose from all parts of the island.
About six o'clock I was going into the schoolmaster's house, and I
heard a fierce wrangle going on between a man and a woman near the
cottages to the west, that lie below the road. While I was listening
to them several women came down to listen also from behind the wall,
and told me that the people who were fighting were near relations
who lived side by side and often quarrelled about trifles, though
they were as good friends as ever the next day. The voices sounded
so enraged that I thought mischief would come of it, but the women
laughed at the idea. Then a lull came, and I said that they seemed
to have finished at last.
'Finished!' said one of the women; 'sure they haven't rightly begun.
It's only playing they are yet.'
It was just after sunset and the evening was bitterly cold, so I
went into the house and left them.
