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Having read my little hours, I walk through the hamlet of Donnycarney, murmuring vespers.
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I hear the cries of the boys' lines at their play, young cries in the quiet evening. I am their rector: my reign is mild.
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Reading my office, I watch a flock of muttoning clouds over Rathcoffey. My thinsocked ankles are tickled by the stubble of Congowes field.
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I bless both gravely and turn a thin page of my breviary. Sin: -- Principes persecuti sunt me gratis: et a verbis tuis formidavit cor meum.
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The young man raises his cap abruptly: the young woman abruptly bends and with slow care detaches from her light skirt a clinging twig.
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A flushed young man comes from a gap of a hedge and after him comes a young woman with wild nodding daisies in her hand.
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The sky shows me a flock of small white clouds going slowly down the wind. Moutonner, the French said. A just and homely word.
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The lychgate of a field shows me breadths of cabbages, curtseying to me with ample underleaves.
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The hands of a bride and of a bridegroom, noble to noble, are impalmed by me.
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I walk and move in times of yore. I am humane and honoured there. I bear in mind secrets confessed and smile at smiling noble faces.
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Who could know the truth? Not the jealous lord and not her confessor if she had not committed adultery fully with her husband's brother.
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Those were old worldish days, loyal times in joyous townlands, old times in the barony. Mary, first countess of Belvedere.
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and she was maid, wife and widow in one day.
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The Malahide road is quiet. It pleases me, road and name. The joybells were ringing in gay Malahide. Then came the call to arms
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At the Howth road stop I alight, am saluted by the conductor and salute in my turn.
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She raises her small gloved fist, yawns ever so gently, tiptapping her small gloved fist on her opening mouth and smiles tinily, sweetly.
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The gentleman with the glasses opposite me has finished explaining and is looking down. His wife, I suppose. A tiny yawn opens her mouth.
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The solemnity of the occupants of the car seems excessive for a journey so short and cheap. I like cheerful decorum.
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Four shillings, a sixpence and five pennies chute from my other plump glovepalm into my purse.
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I sit in a corner of the tramcar, a blue ticket tucked with care in the eye of one plump kid glove.
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