The Aran Islands
who does be walking the world with a stick, she would think for a week that it was a fine bed was made for her.'
After that I had to get out my fiddle and play some tunes for them while they finished their whisky. A new stock of porter was brought in this morning to the little public-house underneath my room, and I could hear in the intervals of our talk that a number of men had come in to treat some neighbours from the middle island, and were singing many songs, some of them in English of the kind I have given, but most of them in Irish.
A little later, when the party broke up downstairs, my old men got nervous about the fairies—they live some distance away—and set off across the sandhills.
The next day I left with the steamer.
99
