I was
silly enough to suppose that the protected family would provide a bowl
of hot coffee for their protectors through the silent watches of the
night, or a glass of the handier and very popular whiskey, but dear, oh
no! the most of them would not acknowledge the existence of the Royal
Irish protectors with a word or a nod no more than if they were watch
dogs.
XXXVII.
CASTLEBAR--WASTING THE LAND--CASTLE BOURKE--BALLINTUBBER ABBEY.
Castlebar is not a large town at all. It is, like all other towns which
I have yet seen in Ireland, swarming with houses licensed to sell
liquors of different kinds to be drunk on the premises. In one street I
noticed on the side of the car on which I sat every house for quite a
little distance was a licensed whiskey shop.
The country people bring in ass-loads of what they have to sell. Very
few horses are to be seen in the hands of country people. Their trading
is on a decidedly small scale. The number of women who attend market
barefoot is the large majority. The ancient blue cloth cloak is the
prevailing hap. Upon a day my friend and I went out to see the glories
of Ballintubber Abbey.
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