Crossing Ireland thus from Galway to Dublin, I noticed that the land got
to be more uniformly fertile as we neared the eastern coast. From Dublin
the road ran down the coast, in sight of the sea for most part. Through
counties Dublin, Meath and Louth, the land looked like the garden of
Eden. It was all like one demesne heavy with trees, interspersed with
large fields having rich crops and great meadows waving with grass; the
cultivation, so weedless, so regular, every ridge and furrow as straight
as a rule could make it, every corner cultivated most scrupulously. It
was a great pleasure to look at the farms. Truly this is a rich and
fertile land. And yet in no place which I have seen so far have I
noticed any laborers' cottages, fit to live in, except on a few places
in Antrim.
This east coast was beautiful exceedingly, and yet I saw on this good
land mud huts which were not fit to be kennels for dogs inhabited by
human beings. I heard a shilling a week spoken of as rent for these
abominable pigsties, collected every Saturday night. Twenty-five cents
looks small, but it is taken out of a small wage. The country railway
stations are very nice to look at.
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