V.—FOR THE FAMINE OF YOUR HOUSES
THE parish of Curraghmore, which is situated on the western coast, was smitten by a famine. Therefore, a benevolent Government decided to send the people some potatoes. Early in February, Mr. Nicholson-Croly arrived charged with the sale, on exceptionally favourable terms, of 200 tons of a new kind of potato called the May Queen.
He settled himself as comfortably as possible in the little hotel, and awaited the arrival of the potato-laden steamer. In due time she came into the bay and anchored opposite Father Gibbons' Presbytery, about a mile from the shore. Mr. Nicholson-Croly hired one of the canvas-covered boats, locally known as curraghs, and rowed off to the steamer.
"What's your plan," asked Captain MacNab, "for getting the potatoes on shore?"
"Oh, that's all right," said Mr. Nicholson-Croly. "You are to lie alongside the pier."
"What pier?"
"There's only one pier—the pier the Government built years ago."
"Well," said the Captain, looking slowly round, "where is it?"
Mr. Nicholson-Croly pointed out the structure. It was clearly visible in a corner of the bay. So
