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The Charm of Ireland

The Charm of Ireland

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Chapter 1 DUBLIN'S SATURDAY NIGHT

Word Count: 2106    |    Released on: 01/12/2017

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

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