“ ’Tis this way, sir,” he said. “The fair was yesterday: an’ them cattle-jobbers have us ate out of the house. So there’s just three things ye can have, sir: an’ the first eggs; an’ the second’s bacon; and third is eggs and bacon. An’ ye can have your choice-thing of them three!”
CHAPTER XII
ASS-CART VERSUS MOTOR
“The grand road from the mountain goes shining to the sea,
And there is traffic on it, and many a horse and cart:
But the little roads of Cloonagh are dearer far to me,
And the little roads of Cloonagh go rambling through my heart.”
Eva Gore-Booth.
THROUGH the tiny window of Norah’s room came the soft sunlight which makes an Irish morning so perfect a thing that to stay in bed a moment longer than necessary would be criminal. Norah woke up, and looked at it sleepily for a few minutes, wishing the window were bigger. It had altogether declined to remain open the night before, until she had propped it with the water-jug, which now stood rakishly on the sill, and had already excited considerable interest and speculation in the street below. She dressed quickly, somewhat embittered by the fact that investigation discovered no sign of a bathroom. The search was a nervous one, since the corridor seemed principally to consist of shut doors; and after cautiously opening one which looked promising, but which revealed a tousled head on a pillow, with loud snores saluting her, she was seized with panic, and fled back to her own room.
When she emerged, fully dressed, she still seemed the only person awake. Downstairs, however, she encountered the “odd-boy,” who was sweeping the hall with a lofty disregard of corners, wherein the dust of many sweepings had accumulated in depressing heaps. Through a cloud of dust he blinked in amazement at her.
“Were you wantin’ anything, miss?”