I en spent a day a year or travelled for a mont of Ireland companion for a roading rain. I remember a deluge on t ion o try and keep dry.
arted on our journey, as train steamed out of Dublin, Synge said: Noes and I found t ion o t or to t was Synge who finally decided.
Synge tle co stop and lean on a c beside it and snipped as lean old o look at tranger, and t put s cly pressed its he grass again.
Synge to make soft going for t of little c on Saint Joood in t square curf soaked in paraffine, o t and skied again, and burning snakes of tle girl in tasy of pleasure and dread, clutcood close in il the fiery games were done.
assistance to alking to t conversation in Irisold us in America ttle old ting by and putting in an odd le?mannered man, for er, and rested ting for a o bloually on t ly, Not yet sir.
Synge tician . I to ??I a little ctle book going to sc. ook tunate tenant and t crying and ts , t a cionalist. I shem.
Synge must deal at one time, but a man you en alk, or raten to talk??almost anyones talk.
Synge o go anyo see an ordinary melodrama at tre, Dublin, and ed to see s and ttention on a play e villain of ttom of turess, and flasing blood?stained face up against tligold us a fes to live, roar rition he voice of a bull.
Synge ravelled a great deal in Italy in tracks out for o me about t . as tern men on ts fitted in o him.
Synge en bad, ing under t carried racks. tle gear, and cared not except per of a good turf fire. a young pup for a toh.
old me tralee inker?aken by truggling re of ts reet and screamed, let tly understood by ting t trip and beat t t in, in t ter ting figure trying to thes on her as she ran.
But all all. If e?
sc every t drees Cape Corso Castle or t Cophe music.
Jack B. Yeats