222 DAYS STOLEN FOR SPORT 



No ! Darby Green, of Ballinabay, Clifden, is not 

 ugly; he does not snarl, and he has two gems of eyes 

 that sparkled when we admired the behaviour of 

 his boat. 



We stood some time where he had landed us watch- 

 ing the manoeuvres of his boat to keep her sails full 

 while beating out, and then I turned to take stock of 

 our position. I was doing . this when Harry came 

 up to me, untied the strings of my south-wester, and 

 helped me out of my oilskin garments, and, v/hile 

 doing so, remarked, 'There's been a lot of piers and 

 luggage in this day's doings, dad.' 



There were a number of men very near us packing 

 mackerel, but so directly under the eyes of one in 

 authority that no one looked our way. 



I have known men made joyous and not a little 

 proud by having handed to them a Bradshaw to 

 solve a problem. My travelhng joy is a map. I took 

 one from my pocket, and saw we were about seven miles 

 from Chfden, the place where the proprietor of the 

 Dudley Arms, A. F. Macdonnell, had cared so well 

 for friends of mine, that all I felt in need of now was 

 a car to take us to him. 



We piled our luggage and marched off in search 

 of one, found it quickly, and had some tea while it 

 was being horsed by a real Irish trotter that made 

 the miles speed past in such a fashion that in less than 

 an hour we were sitting down to a first-class dinner, 

 with just the man sitting next to me, had I known 

 him, I should have most desired to meet. 



The landlord had told me in a most confidential 

 tone that the gentleman who would be dining with 

 us was Mr Shimmer, a Congested Districts' Board 

 Inspector, who had been a captain in the Merchant 

 Service. That Mr Shimmer was an observant man 

 was soon apparent, for we were no sooner seated than 

 he said, T see you have come to fish. May I ask 

 where you intend to try your luck?' 



