When
the evening lamps are lit, the susceptibility of Cork wander here in
pairs and "in couples agree." There are plenty of comfortable seats in
which to rest, for the promenade is a very long one, and the shimmer of
the many lamps among the green foliage has a pretty effect.
LIV.
CORK, TO BANDON, SKIBBEREEN AND SKULL.
From Cork by the new railway to Skibbereen there is one rather
noticeable feature by the way. All the way stations in small places are
wooden houses built American fashion, either clapboarded or upright
boards battened where they meet. The road is through a hilly country and
therefore lies mostly through deep cuttings that shut out the scenery.
There is one long tunnel not far from Cork that educates you into a
sense of what utter darkness means. It is pleasant to look over rich
pastures back to the city crowding its lofty hills, and to notice what a
grand steeple-crowned city it is.
The train crawls along through deep cuts, past these little wooden
stations where everything is more primitive and backwoods looking than
anything I have seen before in Ireland. The porters are civil and
obliging, ready to answer the questions of the ignorant, even of those
who travel third-class. The vast majority of the passengers are small
traders, market-women and farmers' wives, who have been away making
purchases.
By the time we reach Dunmanway we had our allowance of light served out
to us, a lamp being thrust through the ceiling of the car from the top,
and by its light we steamed into Skibbereen. I expected Skibbereen to be
a small assemblage of mud huts, but was surprised to find it a large
town of tall houses. As the bus rattled along through one gaslight
street after another, I kept asking myself, is this really Skibbereen.
The little hotel where we stopped was very comfortable, very clean, and
possesses a good cook. The next day in exploring the by streets and
suburbs of the town I saw poverty enough, want enough. It was market day
and the streets were crowded with country women in blue cloaks. These
cloaks are all the same make, but some of them, owing to their material,
were very stylish and shrouded as pretty black eyed, black-haired, rosy-
cheeked women as I ever saw. Some of these cloaks are made of very fine
material, the pleating about the shoulders very artistic, and the wide
hoods lined with black satin when worn round the face make the wearers
look like fancy pictures.
