when the curate, a man of the greatest kindliness and humour, came up, wet and worn out, to have his first meal. He looked at me for a moment and then shook his head.
'Tell me,' he said, 'did you read your Bible this morning?'
I answered that I had not done so.
'Well, begob, Mr. Synge,' he went on, 'if you ever go to Heaven, you'll have a great laugh at us.'
Although these people are kindly towards each other and to their children, they have no feeling for the sufferings of animals, and little sympathy for pain when the person who feels it is not in danger. I have sometimes seen a girl writhing and howling with toothache while her mother sat at the other side of the fireplace pointing at her and laughing at her as if amused by the sight.
A few days ago, when we had been talking of the death of President M'Kinley, I explained the American way of killing murderers, and a man asked me how long the man who killed the President would be dying.
'While you'd be snapping your fingers,' I said.
'Well,' said the man, 'they might as well hang him so, and not be bothering themselves with all them wires. A man who would kill a
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