an oar. At Dunquin the host hired me a dray, without springs, kissed
my hand in farewell, and I was driven away.

I have made my way round the foot of Dingle Bay and up the south
coast to a cottage where I often lodge. As I was resting in a ditch
some time in the afternoon, on a lonely mountain road, a little girl
came along with a shawl over her head. She stopped in front of me
and asked me where I was going, and then after a little talk:
'Well, man, let you come,' she said; 'I'm going your road as well as
you.' I got up and we started. When I got tired of the hill I
mounted, and she ran along beside me for several miles, till we fell
in with some people cutting turf and she stopped to talk to them.

Then for a while my road ran round an immense valley of magnificent
rich turf bog, with mountains all round, and bowls where hidden
lakes were lying bitten out of the cliffs.

As I was resting again on a bridge over the Behy where Diarmuid
caught salmon with Grania, a man stopped to light his pipe and talk
to me. 'There are three lakes above,' he said, 'Coomacarra,
Coomaglaslaw and Coomasdhara; the whole of this place was in a great
state in the bad times. Twenty years ago they sent down a 'mergency
man to lodge above by the lake and serve processes on the people,
but the people were off before him and lay abroad in the heather.
Then, in the course of a piece, a night came, with great rain out of
the heavens, and my man said: "I'll get them this night in their own
beds, surely." Then he let call the peelers--they had peelers
waiting to mind him--and down they come to the big steppingstones
they have above for crossing the first river coming out of the
lakes; my man going in front to cross over, and the water was high