little inn, with a stuffed fox and a swan in the porch. A glance at
the day-before-yesterday's paper, which has just arrived, and is
considered to serve up news red-hot; and then invasion of the island.
A few hookers are anchored near the swivel-bridge of the viaduct, in
readiness for their cargoes of harvesters for England and Scotland,
and now and then big trout and salmon throw themselves in air to see
what is going on in the world around them. A group of men who are
busily engaged in doing nothing, with a grace and ease which tells of
long experience, manifest great interest in the stranger, whom they
greet civilly and with much politeness. Men, women, and children are
digging turf in a bog beside the road. All suspend operations and look
earnestly in my direction. This is one of the amenities of Irish life.
Driving along a country road you see men at work in a field. They stop
at the first rumble of the car, and leaning on their spades they watch
you out of sight. Then they resume in leisurely style, for work they
will tell you is scarce, and, to their credit be it observed, they
show no disposition to make it scarcer still. They husband it, hoard
it up, are not too greedy, leave some for another day. They dig
easily, with a straight back, and take a long time to turn round. The
savage energy of the Saxon is to them unknown. Why wear themselves
out? "Sweet bad luck to the man that would bur-rst himself as if the
wuruld wouldn't be afther him. Divil sweep the omadhaun that would
make his two elbows into a windmill that niver shtops, but is always
going. Fair an' aisy goes far in a day. Walkin' is betther than
runnin', an' standin' is betther than walkin', an' sittin' is betther
than standin', an' lyin' is betther than any o' thim. Twas me owld
father said it, an' a thrue wurud he shpoke, rest his sowl in glory."

The Achil folks are ardent politicians. They have been visited by
Michael Davitt, Dr. Tanner, and others, and most of the population,
all the Catholics in fact, became members of the Land League. The area
of the island is about forty thousand acres, a vast moorland, with
miles of bog, and hills and mountains in every direction. There are
also several large lakes, which abound with white trout. The
cultivated portions of the land only seem to dot the great waste,
which nevertheless supports a population of some five thousand
persons. The houses are mostly filthy, the people having cattle which
live with the