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