158 THE GREAT THIRST LAND. 



"I'm sorry I interrupted you/' 



" Niver a bit ! I'm glad to see you ; and a mile or 

 two more or less to show you your way will only be 

 friendly." 



So in company we started. This was the best stage 

 Irishman I ever saw, au nature! : he was as perfect as 

 Dion Boucicault in Miles na Cappaleen ; even his stick 

 and his clothes had a Donnybrook Fair cut about them 

 truly refreshing. 



"And how do you like this country?" I asked. 



" Like it, is it ? Tell me the man that knows ould 

 Ireland would like any foreign part," thinkingly he 

 said. 



" Yes, Ireland is a pretty place," said I. 



"And you know it, thin?" expressed by him very 

 thoughtfully. 



" Nearly all." 



" And when were you there last ?" 



" Not for three or four years." 



" Do you know Dublin ?" 



" I do." 



"AndKildare?" 



" Yes ; and Baletore, and Naas, and Maynooth." 

 And at every new name I uttered his face expanded 

 further and further, till he could contain himself no 

 longer, but gave an "Hurrouch!" and brandished his 

 stick as if he had " got the fever on " (an expression in 

 use in America when Irishmen want to fight). 



After subsiding a little, he gravely remarked, " This 

 is a great day for Ireland intirely ! " 



did not deny the fact, although I could scarcely 

 see how the " gem of the sea " was to be affected by the 

 present casual meeting. 



