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McDougall, Margaret Moran Dixon, 1826-1898

"on Her Tour Through Ireland"


Young Mr. Smith is quite a hero among the people on this account. There
is an expressed regret that Mr. Smith the elder interfered to prevent
the young marksman from shooting them all; very few would blame him if
he did, as the men, though too nervous to do harm, lay in wait for the
purpose of murder. Still it is revolting to hear people in cold blood
regret so heartily that there was not more bloodshed.
The scenery--as scenery--was as grand as bare heathery mountains and
wide desolate waters could make an almost treeless solitude, but viewed
as a home for human beings, viewed as land that has rent and taxes and
existence to be carved out of it, it has a hopeless look.
The houses are something dreadful, to consider them in the light of
human habitations. Limestone does not abound here, and therefore the
houses of the poorer sort are built like a cairn or a fence of loose
stones without mortar. When the Atlantic winds sweep in here in winter
time, the crevices in these houses will be so many chinks to whistle
through. God pity the poor!
The people along the road here had a thrifty look; the men wore homespun
coats; the pinned-up dresses of the women showed petticoats which were
homespun of warm madder red, well dyed, good and comfortable looking.


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