238 DAYS STOLEN FOR SPORT 



Irish cabins are not infrequently in the joint 

 occupancy of a numerous family and animals in 

 great variety but the one we entered had for its 

 only occupants the woman and two children that 

 shyly peeped at us. As we entered she made a 

 show of dusting chairs for us and then disappeared, 

 returning with a glass jug of milk which she placed 

 upon a plain deal table just the colour of the milk 

 that by its tinge of yellow showed the cream was 

 there. Having thanked her I expressed a hope 

 that the fine weather we were having was good for 

 the harvest, and, in reply to this, she said : " That is 

 so. Shure the good man and the bhoys are about 

 the hay now." 



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 spinning-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 burn- 

 ing 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 



