Penelope's Irish Experiences

by Kate Douglas Wiggin
Penelope's Irish Experiences

by Kate Douglas Wiggin.
To my first Irish friend, Jane Barlow.

Contents.
Part First--Leinster.

I. We emulate the Rollo books.
II. Irish itineraries.

III. We sight a derelict.
IV. Enter Benella Dusenberry.

V. The Wearing of the Green.
VI. Dublin, then and now.

Part Second--Munster.
VII. A tour and a detour.

VIII. Romance and reality.
IX. The light of other days.

X. The belles of Shandon.
XI. 'The rale thing.'

XII. Life at Knockarney House.
XIII. 'O! the sound of the Kerry dancin'.'

XIV. 'Mrs. Mullarkey's iligant locks.'
XV. Penelope weaves a web.

XVI. Salemina has her chance.
Part Third--Ulster.

XVII. The glens of Antrim.
XVIII. Limavady love-letters.

XIX. 'In ould Donegal.'
XX. We evict a tenant.

XXI. Lachrymae Hibernicae.
Part Fourth--Connaught.

XXII. The weeping west.
XXIII. Beams and motes.

XXIV. Humours of the road.
XXV. The wee folk.

Part Fifth--Royal Meath.
XXVI. Ireland's gold.

XXVII. The three chatelaines of Devorgilla.
XXVIII. Round towers and reflections.

XXIX. Aunt David's garden.
XXX. The quest of the fair strangers.

XXXI. Good-bye, dark Rosaleen!
XXXII. 'As the sunflower turns.'

Part First--Leinster.
Chapter I. We emulate the Rollo books.

'Sure a terrible time I was out o' the way,
Over the sea, over the sea,

Till I come to Ireland one sunny day,-
Betther for me, betther for me:

The first time me fut got the feel o' the ground
I was strollin' along in an Irish city

That hasn't its aquil the world around
For the air that is sweet an' the girls that are pretty.'

--Moira O'Neill.
Dublin, O'Carolan's Private Hotel.

It is the most absurd thing in the world that Salemina, Francesca,
and I should be in Ireland together.

That any three spinsters should be fellow-travellers is not in
itself extraordinary, and so our former journeyings in England and

Scotland could hardly be described as eccentric in any way; but now
that I am a matron and Francesca is shortly to be married, it is

odd, to say the least, to see us cosily ensconced in a private
sitting-room of a Dublin hotel, the table laid for three, and not a

vestige of a man anywhere to be seen. Where, one might ask, if he
knew the antecedent circumstances, are Miss Hamilton's American

spouse and Miss Monroe's Scottish lover?
Francesca had passed most of the winter in Scotland. Her indulgent

parent had given his consent to her marriage with a Scotsman, but
insisted that she take a year to make up her mind as to which

particular one. Memories of her past flirtations, divagations,
plans for a life of single blessedness, all conspired to make him

incredulous, and the loyal Salemina, feeling some responsibility in
the matter, had elected to remain by Francesca's side during the

time when her affections were supposed to be crystallising into some
permanent form.

It was natural enough that my husband and I should spend the first
summer of our married life abroad, for we had been accustomed to do

this before we met, a period that we always allude to as the Dark
Ages; but no sooner had we arrived in Edinburgh, and no sooner had

my husband persuaded our two friends to join us in a long, delicious
Irish holiday, than he was compelled to return to America for a

month or so.
I think you must number among your acquaintances such a man as Mr.

William Beresford, whose wife I have the honour to be. Physically
the type is vigorous, or has the appearance and gives the impression

of being vigorous, because it has never the time to be otherwise,
since it is always engaged in nursing its ailing or decrepit

relatives. Intellectually it is full of vitality; any mind grows
when it is exercised, and the brain that has to settle all its own

affairs and all the affairs of its friends and acquaintances could
never lack energy. Spiritually it is almost too good for earth, and

any woman who lives in the house with it has moments of despondency
and self-chastisement, in which she fears that heaven may prove all

too small to contain the perfect being and its unregenerate family
as well.

Financially it has at least a moderate bank account; that is, it is
never penniless, indeed it can never afford to be, because it is

peremptory that it should possess funds in order to disburse them to
needier brothers. There is never an hour when Mr. William Beresford

is not signing notes and bonds and drafts for less fortunate men;
giving small loans just to 'help a fellow over a hard place';

educating friends' children, starting them in business, or securing
appointments for them. The widow and the fatherless have worn such

an obvious path to his office and residence that no bereaved person
could possibly lose his way, and as a matter of fact no one of them

ever does. This special journey of his to America has been made
necessary because, first, his cousin's widow has been defrauded of a

large sum by her man of business; and second, his college chum and
dearest friend has just died in Chicago after appointing him

executor of his estate and guardian of his only child. The wording
of the will is, 'as a sacredcharge and with full power.'

Incidentally, as it were, one of his junior partners has been
ordered a long sea voyage, and another has to go somewhere for mud

baths. The junior partners were my idea, and were suggested solely
that their senior might be left more or less free from business

care, but it was impossible that Willie should have selected sound,
robust partners--his tastes do not incline him in the direction of

selfish ease; accordingly he chose two delightful, estimable, frail
gentlemen who needed comfortable incomes in conjunction with light

duties.
I am railing at my husband for all this, but I love him for it just

the same, and it shows why the table is laid for three.
"Salemina," I said, extending my slipper toe to the glowing peat,

which by extraordinary effort had been brought up from the hotel
kitchen, as a bit of local colour, "it is ridiculous that we three

women should be in Ireland together; it's the sort of thing that
happens in a book, and of which we say that it could never occur in

real life. Three persons do not spend successive seasons in