DAYS STOLEN FOR SPORT 207 



When we had finished our sandwiches and drunk 

 the milk, there arose the difficulty of a quid pro quo. 

 My eyes wandered for inspiration from the plastered 

 ceiling to the sanded floor, over the clean white walls 

 to the well-filled dresser, from the ticking clock to 

 a chest of drawers that had some china on it; but there 

 was nothing I could ask for there; then I spied a spin- 

 ning-wheel and my hopes went up as I turned to search 

 for a roll of tweed or bundle of stockings — my usual 

 refuge in such a difficulty — but there was nothing, 

 and I could only say 'Thank you' for so much kindness. 



In a field close by a stalwart man of fifty, three 

 lads, and two girls, were busy making miniature 

 mounds of hay, which, while permitting drying air 

 to permeate, would shelter the bulk from the burning 

 sun or cast off a shower of rain. The man stretched 

 his back, looked up at the sun, hesitated a moment, 

 and then left the field, followed by the other workers. 

 He had to pass us, and when near said, 'Good-morning, 

 yer honours. I see ye are for giving yer horse a rest.' 

 'And resting ourselves,' I repUed, 'after drinking good 

 milk we have not paid for.' The farmer's smile and 

 shake of his head as he replied, 'Yer honour knows 

 the coin for Irish milk should be given wid yer tongue,' 

 was well worth the j ourney. 



Hours spent in scenes like these gave food for 

 thought to one fresh from the hurry, muddle, and 

 emotionalism of a city, where loud-voiced sentiment 

 had almost made me think that all kinds of sport 

 are wrong, and that we should pray for Chinamen, 

 Africans, and Ahens before prating for ourselves. 

 Noisy faddists, on whom ridicule has no effect, are 

 on the increase, while robust common sense is hidden 

 away until the market for it mends. The female 

 pohtician, full of projects for my betterment, was on 

 my nerves when I commenced this trip, but I got her 

 off when the fish began to bite. Atlantic breezes 

 must have cleared my brain a bit, as I am thinking 



