laddie, because it's the place you come to at the
cool of the day, when the bats are out, and the cummers put by their
spinning. And there's nou't there but sport and music. A lawn like a
golf green, drink that is not ugly, women would wander with you on to
the heather when the moon's rising, and never a thought in their mind of
the money in your pocket, but their eyes melting at you, and they
thinking you're the champion hero of the world.... And all the fiddlers
fiddling the finest of dance music: hornpipes like 'The Birds among the
Trees' and 'The Green Fields of America'; reels like 'The Swallow-tail
Coat' and 'The Wind that Shakes the Barley'; slip-jigs would make a
cripple agile as a hare.... And you go asleep with no mate to wake you
in a blow, but the sound of an old piper crooning to you as a cummer
croons. And the birds will wake you with their douce singing.... Aye,
Fiddlers' Green...."

And they were silent for a minute in the soft Ulster sunshine.

"Would you have any use for a lad like myself aboard your ship, Raghery
man?"

"Och, sure, what would you do with the sea, wee fellow?"

"I ken it well already, Raghery man. And I'm no clumsy in a boat. I can
sail a sloop with any man. On a reach or full and by, I'll keep her
there. With the breeze biting her weather bow, I'll hold her snout into
it. Or with the wind behind me, I'll ride her like you'd canter a
horse."

"I might take you to learn you seamanship and navigation, but you'd be
no use as a sailor, wee laddie, and it's not for a Campbell to be a
cabin-boy."

"Take me to learn the trade, then. Take me now."

"I'd like fine, wee fellow, but I couldn't do it. You might be cut out
for a scholar for all you think you're not. Or it might be a soldier
you're meant for. I couldn't interfere with your life. It's an unco
responsibility, interfering with a destiny, a terrible thing."

"Will you talk to my Uncle Robin? Will you?"

"Och, now, how could I talk to your Uncle Robin, him that's written
books, and is counted one of the seven learned men of Ireland? Sure, I
wouldn't understand what he'd be saying, and he'd have no ear for a
common sailing man. If it was your Uncle Alan, now--"

"There's not a person in the world but has the ear of my Uncle Robin.
And there's none easier to talk to, not even the apple woman at the
corner of the quay. Will you come with me and talk to him?"

"I couldn't, laddie. Your Uncle Alan, now--"

"I'll do the talking,