DAYS STOLEN FOR SPORT 241 



Martin Kilbane, postmaster of Cloughmore, I told 

 him that his quick perception and easily aroused 

 energy fitted him to be an Admiral of the Fleet 

 or Postmaster- General. "It would be yerself thin 

 that has been kissing the blarney stone, and it's 

 plinty of fish ye'll be catching I hope." 



The post-office, the hotel, and a two-roomed 

 cottage stood together and formed three sides of 

 a square on the north jetty. It was the cottage 

 that was given us and our meals were brought 

 to our little sitting-room from across the way ; 

 so we were very snug, and so close to the sea that 

 we had only to step outside, slip off our night 

 apparel and take a morning dip. 



It was Sunday morning when we took our first 

 swim and, the water being warm in anticipation of 

 the heat of the sunny day that followed, we much 

 enjoyed it. A Spring tide was running and the 

 heaving sea caught varied colourings from the 

 rising sun that glittered in the waves our arms 

 went through. Gulls innumerable were taking toll 

 of passing shoals of little fish which, when caught, 

 were fought for with noisy clamour. After we had 

 dressed we sat on a wall where the fishers' nets 

 were spread and watched the fish below, which, 

 by their antics, showed that they too were bubbling 

 over with the joy of life. Hunger came to us long 

 before the meal so we were pleased when our host 

 came to tell us it was ready. 



The inhabitants of the island are few and their 

 means so limited that they share the services of 

 their priest with the occupants of Inishturk, a still 

 less prosperous island, twelve miles south, which 

 he visits every other week. He was away, and, 

 Q 



