was a joint debate. Paddy used reduced prices as his argument. Questions
were hurled at him by the reddening trader.

"Wait till I get through," said Paddy. "Then I'll attend to you."

That, said the trader, was a physical threat! So the gombeener's friend,
the magistrate, threw Paddy into jail. Paddy went to prison full of fear
that dissension might be sown in the society's ranks. But on coming out he
discovered not only that he had won the election but that a committee was
waiting to present him with a gorgeous French gilt clock, and that fires,
just as on St. John's eve, were blazing on the mountains.

But the trader took another friend of his aside. This time it was the
village priest. Bad dances, he said, were going on of nights in Templecrone
hall. What was Paddy's surprise on a Sunday in the windswept chapel by the
sea to hear his beloved hall denounced as a place of sin. Paddy knew the
people would not come any more.

Then, the great inspiration. Paddy remembered how his mother used to try to
help with her knitting. He saw girls at spinning wheels or looms working
full eight hours a day and earning only $1.25 to $1.50 a week. So with
permission of the society, Paddy had two long tables placed in the
entertainment hall, and along the edges of the tables he had the latest
type of knitting machines screwed. Soon there were about 300 girls working
on a seven and a half hour day. They were paid by the piece, and it was not
long before they were getting wages that ran from $17.50 to $5.25 a week.
Incidentally, Mr. Gallagher, as manager, gave himself only $10.00 a week.

When I saw Patrick Gallagher in Dungloe, he was dressed in a blue suit and
a soft gray cap, and looked not unlike the keen sort of business men one
sees on an ocean liner. And indeed he gave the impression that if he had
not been a co-operationist for Ireland, he might well have been a
capitalist in America. He took me up the main street of Dungloe into easily
the busiest of the white plastered shops. He made plain the hints of
growing industry. The bacon cured in Dungloe. The egg-weighing--since
weighing was introduced the farmers worked to increase the size of the eggs
and the first year increased their sales $15,000 worth. The rentable farm
machines.

"Come out into this old cabin and meet our baker," Paddy continued when we
went out the rear of the store. "We began to get bread from Londonderry,
but the old Lough Swilly road is too uncerta