n of
many cabins.

I was going to add that the light food may have something to say to
this, but as the Irish are not remarkable for their small families, this
would be an unwarrantable aspersion.

Of course in the big towns there are women of no importance, and Dublin
has always borne rather a lively reputation in this respect, though that
in no way affects the general high standard of morality.

The climate of the country, despite the moisture, is one conducive to
good health, owing to the absence of any extreme vicissitudes.

It may be asked why, considering the overcrowding and insanitary
conditions of living in the miserable cabins, there is not more disease,
and my reply is that the peat which is burnt is so healthy as to act as
a disinfectant.

Indigestion, like lunacy, is, however, largely on the increase.

Nearly any old woman--or old man for the matter of that--as well as a
sad majority of younger people, will tell you:--

'I have a pain in the stomach,' with the accent on the second syllable
of the locality.

This is due to excessive consumption of tea.

Nearly twenty times as much tea must be drunk now in Kerry as in the
early sixties, and so far as I can recollect tea was unknown, not only
in the cabins but among the farmers until after the famine.

Fairly good tea is obtained, for the Irish will never buy tea unless
they are asked a high price, and for that price they usually, owing to
competition, obtain an article not too perniciously adulterated.

What is highly injurious is the method of making the tea.

A lot is thrown into the pot on the fire in the cabin in the morning,
and there it stands simmering all day long, that those who want it may
help themselves.

This is in sharp contrast to the method employed by Dr. Barter, the
famous hydropathic physician at Cork, one of the cleverest men I ever
met and one of the very few who never permitted medicine under any
circumstances, relying on water, packing, and Turkish baths, with strict
attention to diet.

He used to make tea by putting half a teaspoonful into a wire strainer
which he held over his cup, and pouring boiling water upon the leaves,
the contents of his cup became a pale yellow, to which he added a little
milk and instantly drank it off, the whole process lasting but a few
seconds. I remember he equally disapproved of the Russian method of
drinking tea in a glass with lemon, of the fashionable way of letting
the water 'stand o