wind. I stepped under it, and it was a wet place; torrents of rain
coming down from all quarters, east and west and straight
downwards; its equal I couldn't see, unless it is seeds winnowed
through a riddle. It was sharp, angry, fierce, and stormy, like a
deer running and racing past me. The storm was drowning the
country, and my case was pitiful, and I suffering without cause.

'An hour and a quarter it was raining; there isn't a drop that fell
but would fill a quart and put a heap on it afterwards; there's not
a wheat or rape mill in the neighbourhood but it would set going in
the middle of a field.'

At last relief comes:--

'It was shortly then the rain grew weak, the sun shone, and the
wind rose. I moved on, and I smothered and drowned in wet, till I
came to a little house, and there was a welcome before me. Many
quarts of water I squeezed from my skirt and my cape. I hung my hat
on a nail, and I lying in a sweet flowery bed. But I was up again
in a little while. We began sports and pleasures; and it was with
pride we spent the night.'

But there is a verse in his 'Argument with Whisky' that seems to have a
wistful thought in it, perhaps of the settled home of his rival,
Callinan:--

'Cattle is a nice thing for a man to have, and his share of land to
reap wheat and barley. Money in the chest, and a fire in the
evening time; and to be able to give shelter to a man on his road;
a hat and shoes in the fashion--I think, indeed, that would be much