The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1866-07-26
LNIVH1 VIO HISOoJsJ
FATHER GILES OF BALLYMOY.
BY ANTHONY TRoLLopE

BY ANTHONY TROLLOPE
1t is nearly thirty years since l. Archi
bald Green, first entered the little town O
Ballymoy, in the west of Ireland, and be
came acquainted with one of the honestes
fellows and best Christians whom it haC
been my good fortune to know. For twenty
years he and l were fast friends-thougl
he was much my elder. AS he has now
been ten years beneath the sod, may tel
the story of our first meeting.
Ballynoy is so called town--or was il
the days of which am speaking-lyins
close to the shores of Tough Corrib, in the
county Galway. 1t is on the road to nc
place. and, as the end of road has in itself
nothing to attract traveller. The scenery
of Tough Corrib is grand-but the lake is
very large, and the fine scenery is on the
side opposite to Ballymoy, and hardly to be
reached, or even to be seen, from that place
There is fishing, but it is lake fishing The
salmon fishing of Tough Corrib is far away
from Ballymoy-where the little river runs
away from the lake down to the town of
Galway. There was then in Ballymoy one
single street, of which the characteristic at
first sight most striking to stranger, was
its general appearance Of being thoroughly
wet through. 1t was not simply that the
rain water was generally running down it's
unguttered streets in muddy, random rivu-
lets, hurryiDg towards the lake with true
Irish impetuosity, but that each separate
house looked as though the walls were reek-
ing with wet aud the alternated roofs of
thatch and slate-the slated houses being
Just double the hight of those that were
thatched-assisted the eye and mind of the
spectator in forming this opinion. The
lines were broken everywhere, and at every
break it seemed as though there was free
entrance to the waters of heaven. The pop
ulation of Ballymoy was its second wonder.
There had been no famine then; no rot
among the potatoes; and land round the
town was let to cottiers for nine, ten and
even eleven pounds an acre. At all hours
of the day, and at nearly all hours of the
night, able bodied men were to be seen
standing in the streets, with knee breeches
unbuttoned, with stockings rolled down over
their brogues and with swallow tailed frieze
coats. Nor, though thus idle, did they
seem to suffer any of the distress of poverty
There were plenty Of beggars, no doubt, in
Ballymoy, but it never struck me that there
was much distress in those days. The
earth gave forth its potatoes freely, and nei-
Their man nor pig wanted more.
1t was to be my destiny to stay a week
at Ballymoy, on business, as to the natur Q
of which need not trouble the present
reader. was not, at that time, so we'll &C
quainted with the manners of the people at
Connaught as became afterwards, and l
had certain misgivings as was driven into
the village on jaunting car from Tuam.-
I had Just come down from Dublin and had
been informed there that there were two
'shotels' in Ballamoy, but that one of the
''hotels'' might, perhaps, be found deficient
in some of those comforts which l, as an
Englishman, might require. [ was there
fore to ask for the ''hotel' kept by Pat
Kirwan. The other hotel was kept by
Larry Kirwan; SO that it beloved me to be
particular. l had made the journey down
from Dublin in a night and day, travelling,
as we then did travel in Ireland by canal
boats and by Blancodi's long cars; and
had dined at Tuam, and been driven over,
after dinner on an April evening; and when
reached Rallymoy was tired to death
and very cold
s'Pat Kirwan's hotel" said to the dri.
yer, almost angrily. mind you don't &c
to the other"
''Shure, yer honor, and why not to Lar
ry's?" You'd be getting better entertain
ment at Larry's because Of Father Giles. }
understood nothing about Father Giles
and wished to understand nothing. But
did understand that was to go to Pat Kir
vans 'botel, and thither [ insisted on be
ing taken"
It was quite dusk at this time, and the
wind was blowing down the streets of Bal
lymoy. carving before itwild gusts Of rain
In the west of Ireland March weather comes
in April, and it comes with violence of it
own, though not with the cruelty OF the
English east wind. At this moment my
neck was ricked by my futile endeavors t.
keep my head straight on the side car, ano
the water had got under me upon the seat
and the horse had come to stand still hall
dozen times in the last two minutes, and
my apron had been traied in the mud, anc
was very unhappy. For the last ten min
utes l had been thinking evil of everything
Irish, and especially Connaught | was
driven up to queerly- shaped three-corner
ed house that stood at the bottom of the
ttreet, pnd which seemed to possess none O
she outside apputenances of an inn. "This
can't be Pat Kirwan's hotel, said l. "Faix
and it is, then, yer honor" said the driver
And barring only that Father Giles
But had rung the bell, and as the dool
was now opened by a barefooted girl en-
tered the little passage without hearing
anything further about Father Giles.
Could have a bedroom immediately
with fire in it {? Not answering me di
rectly the girl led me into a sitfino-roon,
in which my nose was at once treated +,
that peculiar perfume which is given ont
by the relics of hot whiskey punch mixe
with great deal of sugar-and there sb
left me.
'tWhere is Pat Kirwan himself?' said
coming to the door, and clustering some
what For, let it be remembered, l W;
very tired and it may be fair questi(
whether in the far west of Ireland lit
buster may not sometimes be of service.
''If you have not room ready will go
Larry Kirwan's," showing that understo
the bearings of the place.
sits right away at the furder end the
yer honor" said the driver, putting in