The little church to which this romantic path brought us was such a
church as one might snuggle down in to learn the way to Zion, and enjoy
the comfort of the old, old story. This mission was begun by the Rev.
Edward Naugh, I believe, in the famine time. It invaded the island with
bread and the Bible. I hear that it has done much good, chiefly, I
believe, in educating and emigrating the people.
The village of the mission opposite the rectory has two schools, an inn
or hotel, a co-operative store, a post-office, some dwellings of
coastguard's men and other official and semi-official people, the agent
over the mission property for one. A little further away on the sea
sands is a miserable collection of cabins inhabited by the people. There
were some poor-looking farmhouses dotting the mountain side.
As far as I could learn there was no industry on Achill Island but
tilling their miserable crofts. The fishing was monopolized by one man,
a Mr. Hector, a Scotchman. The people as far as I could learn had no
boats fitted for deep sea fishing and the coast fishing was monopolized.
They are said to be lazy, unthrifty, unenergetic.
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