DAYS STOLEN FOR SPORT 239 



said : " Good-morning yer honours. I see ye are 

 for giving yer horse a rest." "And resting our- 

 selves," I replied, "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 journey. 



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 Aliens, before praying 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 politician, 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 that those who are rearing families of boys 

 and girls, whose needs are few and of such a nature 

 as to help to make strong men and women of them, 

 are doing more for our country's welfare than those 

 good noisy folks that are so anxious to mend our 

 ways. 



When we reached the quay at Cloughmore we 

 learned that the only boat likely to be available that 

 day was away to an adjacent island with the post- 

 master who was delivering the mail. The driver, 

 not Pat but a quieter man, would have unloaded and 

 left us, but, as there was no accommodation near 

 for travellers, I asked him to wait the issue of our 

 conference with the returning postmaster, as it 



