"Soon the hall will be free for entertainments again," I suggested. "Won't
the old cry be raised against it once more?"

"No. We're too strong for that now."



At the Gallaghers' home, a sort of store-like place on the main street,
Mrs. Gallagher with a soft shawl about her shoulders was waiting to
introduce me to Miss Hester. Miss Hester was brought to Dungloe by the
co-operative society to care for the mothers at child-birth. She is the
first nurse who ever came to work in Donegal.

But Mr. Gallagher wanted to talk more of Dungloe's attainment and ambition.
He compared the trade turnover of $5,045 for the first year of the society
with $375,000 for 1918. But there were more things to be done. The finest
herring in the world swim the Donegal coast. Scots catch it. Irish buy it.
Dungloe men wanted to fish, but the gombeen man would never lend money to
promote industry. Other plans for the development of Dungloe were
discussed, but the expense of the cartage of surplus products on the toy
Lough Swilly road, and the impossibility of getting freight boats into the
undredged harbor, were lead to rising ambition.

"Parliament is not interested in public improvements for Dungloe," smiled
Mr. Gallagher. "I suppose if I were a British member of parliament I would
not want to hand out funds for the projection of a harbor in a faraway
place like this. Irish transportation will not be taken in hand until
Ireland can control her own economic policy."