This adjuration falling short of its aim, he came up and asked for "a
few coppers," at the same time invoking about sixpennyworth of
blessings in advance, a sort of sprat to catch a mackerel.

"Got no coppers," I said, rather impatiently.

"May ye never have one till the day of yer death," said the good old
man, this time with an unmistakable accent of sincerity. He hobbled
off with the wheel, muttering something which may have been blessings,
and a fine healthy young fellow came up. "Good mornin', an' 'tis a
foin bit of scenery, but we can't ate it, an' we'd die afore we'd go
into the poorhouse, an' a thrifle of money for a dhraw at the pipe
would be as welkim as the flowers of May, an' 'tis England is the
grate counthry, and thim that was in it says that Englishmen is tin
per cint. betther than Irishmen, aye, twinty per cint."--and so
forth, and so forth. There were six more applications in a hundred
yards, one of them from a well-dressed boy of fourteen or fifteen, who
gracefully reclined on a bank with his legs crossed, his arms under
his head. Begging to the Irish race is as natural as breathing. They
have an innate affinity for blessing and begging, and they beg without
need. Anything to avoid work. They are for the most part entirely
destitute of a spirit of independence. They will not dig, and to beg
they are not ashamed. According to a Newport authority they are
growing worse than ever. While I awaited the fishing up of the line he
said:--

"The conduct of the poorer classes is becoming more and more a
disgrace to the country. There is poverty, of course, but not so much,
nor in so great a proportion, as in England. This line has been in
progress for two years and a half, and the people of this district
have received many thousands of pounds without any perceptible
improvement of position, either as to solvency or personal appearance.
They are as ragged as ever, as dirty as ever, and decidedly more
dishonest than ever. They are more extravagant in their eating and
drinking, and the women spend more in ridiculous finery; but in spite
of the wages they have earned, they have not paid their way one bit
better than before. They usually sow the land and live on the crops,
selling the surplus to pay the rent, which is usually very moderate,
and well within what the land will pay. For thirty months many
hundreds of them, thanks to Mr. Balfour, have enjoyed an additional
income of fifteen shillings a week, but t