into an
excavation with water at the bottom. I remember the manager of the
works once showing me an immense ingot of silver. It was lying on a
table in his office between two flannel shirts, the edges of which
were just able to meet over its sides. There was a small lake and a
trout stream close to the works; of these I had the run.

Many spots in the neighborhood of Springfield had legends attached to
them. I remember one large rock in the Scalp which was known as the
"Soggarth's Stone." It was said that a priest had been killed there in
"ninety-eight." At a spot where two roads crossed, on the way to
Enniskerry, could still be traced the outlines of the graves of several
suicides; one of these had the remains of a very old oaken stake
sticking diagonally from it. Every storied spot fascinated me, but
although many of my friends among the peasantry tried hard to make me
believe in the fairies or, as they called them, "the good people," I
never placed the slightest credence in what was said on the subject.

I had a faithful henchman in Jimmy Kinsella, a lad of about my own age,
who belonged to Springfield. Jimmy was the only one of my circle of
acquaintances who refrained from persecuting me concerning the "burial
agency" episode. Should these lines ever meet his eye, he will know
that I still cherish grateful memories of his chivalrous forbearance.
But I fear poor Jimmy could never have learnt to read; he was one of a
sorely poverty-stricken family of about a dozen children. His ordinary
costume consisted of a very ragged coat and breeches, the latter not
quite reaching to his knees, and usually held at their proper altitude
by a "suggan," or rope of hay. Jimmy was the only well-fleshed member
of his family, and for being thus distinguished he had me to thank.

I must, as a child, have had the forager's instinct very strongly
developed, for I very early noted the amount of more or less appetizing
food lying about ungleaned in what, in South Africa, we would call "the
veld." For instance, there was a large grove of hazel-trees from which
vast stores of nuts could be collected in the season. This nut-grove
was still standing when I visited Springfield a few years ago. These
nuts we used to gather and, like the squirrels, hoard in various
places.

The seasons brought forth other acceptable items of food. Mushrooms
grew plentifully in the grassy hollows near the lake, and wild
strawberries were to be found on almost e