farmer coming to them one evening and asking them if they would care to go round to his place and see the Irish. She had a very vivid recollection of the scene which he displayed to them. A large fire burned in the middle of his yard, and round it were clustered the savages from her native land, cooking their food, drying their clothes, and talking to each other in unintelligible Gaelic. They took no notice of the staring tourist group, behaving with a contempt for their curiosity which reminded her of the nobler kinds of animals in zoological gardens.
She looked at a second group of girls with more interest. It occurred to her that it would be intensely exciting to discover how they lived in Scotland. She recollected having heard that they went from one farm to another in gangs; all slept together in barns, and lived for months with no change of clothes but what the little bundles in their hands contained. She saw in these girls the very field for investigation she desired. No one had ever before sounded the depths of harvesting. She scented disgusting details, half hoped for the unspeakable, and foresaw the blaze of triumph in which she would make her revelations to the public. No doubt, later on, when the conditions of their servitude were ameliorated—Mrs. Crossley had adopted the habit of thinking in long words—her work would be recognised, and all Connaught would hail her as a heroine.
