The Cecil Whig. [volume] (Elkton, Md.) 1841-current, 1880-04-24
An Irish Fishing Village.

| did not greatly care how much j
layers. because learned to laugh and
weep with them. Uncarcd for and for
gotten by the world, they seem to have
but one earthly hope, America, and one
dread, hunger. The village possesses no
post-ot1ce: there is no magistrate within
many miles: and the priest, two leagues
distant. serves numerous villages as for
lorn as this. and people are born and die
without any official note. Many suppose
that the parish priest is the most power
full man in the kingdom; and it was Il
subject of supreme surprise and commits
Grafton when | informed them that the
| Queen was a widow. On Sundays the
inhabitants of the village appear, washed
| and shaven into Il CHASTITY pallor, i'll the
| single street that leads up from the sea-
and remain all day long gossiping and
| fighting, through sunshine and rain, as
if these achievements formed part of
their religious duties. Now and then
the Spols of Il wreck are washed to their
shores. and when the coast guards dis
pute with them what they consider the
| bounty of the sea. fierce encounters take
place, in one of which, not long before
my arrival, poor villager had been
killed.
There was scarcely wel-thatched
cabin in the village: the floors of most of
them were AS muddy as the roads, and
dotted with little pools of water, which
seemed a refreshing feature to the ducks
that came in quest of food. The most
sheltered corner of the cabin is devoted
to the pig, and the chickens seize upon
every coin of vantage for a roost. Nets
| hang from the rafterS. and the equip
ments of the boats are disposed III what
ever dry hooks the habitation boasts of.
! The warmcSt spot on the hearth is
usurped by the cat. cherished with great
care as the protector against their terri
BILE enemies the rats: and besides it an
old woman. who did not seem to have
changed her clothes since her youth cod
died the latest born of the household.
The village was pervaded with so strong
an odor of fish and tar that less agreeable
emanations We're unnoticed. The dung
heap was zealously guarded by the door
1 have seen it. indeed. in the very liv-
in@-room of the occupants-as the riches
| eS that were to prosper their next year
potato crop; and every morning the PIG
was sent out to walk. with Il solicitude
for his health not bestowed upon the
other members of the family. These
people spent three-fOurths of their time
in idling and gossiping. | saw poor bag.
gard old women at the doors of then
cabins, or by the village well, who had t.
crouch like apes TO make their rags cover
them. so mad for gossip that they forgot
their hunger and the rain that soaked
them: and day after day old men gather
ed on the sheltered side of II wall, and
talked with As much interest and gravity
as if they had never seen each other be.
fore, and every recital was an unheard
of marvel. Troops of half-clothcd and
hali-starved children sprawlcd in the
mud, fought among themselves, or with
loud yells crowded about some poor ass,
inticting all the torments that their I'M
tutored imaginations could suggest while
their mothers, can in hand, whispered.
with amazement written on their faces
of all they had heard or seen or dreamed
of since yesterday in a village dependent
entirely upon itself for its topics of in
| tereSt.
Hither. learned. the priest came once
4 year to hear the confessions of the i'll
habtants. They repair to one of the
cabins. where, while the pig. chickens.
ducks and geese are kept in allegiance by
the Jealous host and hostess. the rite is
celebrated. Among these people. whose
only extravaganza seems to be on the
score of their religion, he is entertained
and lequited i'll a manner quite out OF
proportion to the means of his entertain
ers; and when departing after the man.
ner OF the fond mother in the story-book.
who whipped her children and put them
to bed, he gives them sound rating
upon their idleness and rcmissness in
their religious observance. and receives
III return. " Long life to your reverence. -
and "Godspeed, from his humble
| tock.