Clondalkin and its Round Tower. Returning, I was about to pay him; the tariff of fares being very low as compared with England, I decided to give him something in excess. It so happened that, in addition to the sum I had in my hand, there was an extra sixpence. "Will this do?" I said. "Sure, your honour, it will do,—but it is meself that would like that other sixpence."
At Killarney we went for an excursion on ponies through the Gap of Dunloe to the head of the Upper Lake, thence by boat, on our return. Several other tourists were in the party. Dismounting and walking up the Pass, two English ladies gathering ferns were pestered by a woman who emerged from a cottage, a picturesque figure, her head covered with a shawl, her feet bare. She wanted them to have some milk and "potheen," an excuse, of course, for begging. I went to their rescue and remonstrated. She struck an attitude, and said, "To think that he should have so hard a heart as to deny the ladies what they are wishin' for!" Result, of course, she got her tip. Leaving Limerick, and arriving at Athlone, a typical Irish town, with a main street of whitewashed houses and thatched roofs in many cases, we made arrangements to stay at an inn for the night, ordering dinner at seven, whilst we went down to the Shannon, a noble river, for some boating. Returning, we found an excellent meal in the small dining-room, and had just finished it, when there was the sound of wheels outside, and voices in altercation. In came our waiter, an elderly man, evidently full of suppressed merriment.
"You see, sorr, it's Mr. Trench, the Land Agent and his lady; they often come and stay here for a
