The Charm of Ireland
om the pier at Holyhead, made its way cautiously out past the breakwater, and then,
o cling to; and in the saloon the table-racks were set ready at hand, as though they had just been used, and might be needed again at any moment. But, on this Saturday evening in late May, the
obscured them one by one, and presently all that was left of them were the bobbing white lights at their mastheads. A biting chill crept into the
the corner tables. He was smoking a black, well-seasoned briar, and
erica," he said, watc
nswered. "
at me with new interest, "though for
ere born i
am. I am going bac
u been a
s," he said, and took
ll find many cha
here are not many changes in Ireland, even in thirty years. 'Tis not like America. I am
ing?" I echoe
their priests to
hat. In fact, I had somewhere received the impression that they were above criticism of every ki
in the world so critical, so suspicious, or so sharp-sighted as the Irish. Take this matter of smoking, now. All Irishmen smoke, and yet there is a feeling that it is not the right thing for a priest. For myself, I see no harm in it. My pipe is
ew whiffs up the chimney o
e eyes lit up
able under it, and stand on the table, and smoke up the chimney, turn and turn about," and he went on to tell me of those far-off days at Maynooth, which is the great Catholic college of Ireland, and of his first visit to America, and his firs
l beam across the sea, stared one full in the eye for an instant, and then swept on; and then more lights and more-the green and red ones marking the entrance to the harbour; and finally the lights of Kingstown itself stretched away to the left like a string of golden beads. And then
try is Ireland, the Island of the Saints, the home of heroic legend and history more heroic still, the land with a frenzy for freed
nners was in waiting; and then, after most of the passengers and luggage had been disgorged, and a guard had come around and collected twopence from me for some obscure reason I did not
d streets which we had glimpsed from the train was not to be resisted; so I told the guard we wanted a
the bags for the gintle
toward me eagerly, his face alight with joy at the prospect o
ntin' to go, sir?" he as
d the
treet," I added. "Th
rotested, and picked up the b
nt along, and saw that they were good-humoured faces, unmistakably Irish; their voices were soft and the rise and fall of the talk was very sweet and gentle; but most of them were very shabby, and many of them undeniably dirty, and some had celebrated Saturday evenin
I had thought, but presently I saw a tall column looming ahead which I recognised as the Nelson Pillar, and I assured Betty that we were nearly there, for I knew that our hotel was almost opposite the Pillar. Our porter, however, crossed a broad
ant to keep on walking all night
nd mopped his dripping
e, sir," he said,
way at all," I protested. "It's
erfully, and picked up the
lle Street, isn
don't k
d stared at him. "Don't yo
ranger in Dublin, like
th didn't you say
ot the job. That was what he was afraid of. In fact, he was afraid, even yet, that I would take the bags
" I said. "Y
, his face lighting up ag
head without asking the way of any one, and for how long, if I had not stopped him, he would have kept on wa
s afraid of policemen, or perhaps it was just the instinctive Irish dislike of them. This particular one bent a benignant face down upon us from his altitude of something over six feet,
gave this street, si
ed for confirmation to the sign at the co
I knew he couldn't read; but h
d him and dismissed him without realising that I had been brought face to fac
pillar-posing as he so often did when he found himself in the limelight. Far below, the street still hummed with life, although it was near mid