st serviceable
revolver and invited them to come on.

They did not. In fact they scattered with a rapidity which proved they
had not imbibed enough whisky to affect their legs or give them courage.

This will show that my business--to collect what was due to the
landlords I represented--was not always agreeable work or always easy.
But my duty was to get in rents, and so I got them, whenever I could.

The tenants did not all pay direct, for many were far too frightened.
Quite a number, even of the Roman Catholics, used to send the money
through the Protestant clergy.

How they settled this in the confessional I do not know, possibly it was
a trifle they did not consider worth troubling the priest with.

Three tenants on Lord Kenmare's estate came into my office on one
occasion, and said they would like to pay their rent, but were afraid of
the Land League.

I treated their fears as arrant nonsense, but told them to come and
argue it out with me in my own room.

So soon as they could not be seen by any one they paid up.

Within a few days an armed party went to their houses and shot the three
in their legs.

One man's life was despaired of for some time, but finally they all
recovered.

This outrage was a rather late one, because the Land League latterly
decided to shoot objectionable characters only in the legs, because
though a fuss was made at the time, if a man was killed it was soon
forgotten afterwards, whereas a lame man was a lifelong testimony to
their power.

There is a man hobbling about Castleisland to this day, who was peppered
in this comparatively humanitarian way. I am quite sure he would say
such a comparison had proved odious.

Judge Barry very truly said that a thatched cabin on a mountain-side was
not much of a place of defence, and if the tenant was supposed to have
paid his rent, he would be told to run out with probably three men
standing at the door to shoot him. That was terrorism as inculcated by
the so-called friends of Ireland.

Mr. Forster in his plucky speech to the crowd at Tullamore, said:--

'I went when I was at Tulla to the workhouse, and there saw a poor
fellow lying in bed, the doctors around him, with a blue light over his
face that made me feel that the doctors were not right, when they told
me he might get over it. I felt sure that he must die, and I see this
morning that he has died. But why did that man die? He was a poor lone
farmer. I believe he had paid his r