ing beside the
river. We pleased ourselves with the spectacle of Dublin's commerce--the
barges signalled from far away by their curls of woolly smoke, the brown
fishing fleet beyond Ringsend, the big white sailing-vessel which was
being discharged on the opposite quay. Mahony said it would be right
skit to run away to sea on one of those big ships and even I, looking at
the high masts, saw, or imagined, the geography which had been scantily
dosed to me at school gradually taking substance under my eyes. School
and home seemed to recede from us and their influences upon us seemed to
wane.

We crossed the Liffey in the ferryboat, paying our toll to be
transported in the company of two labourers and a little Jew with a bag.
We were serious to the point of solemnity, but once during the short
voyage our eyes met and we laughed. When we landed we watched the
discharging of the graceful threemaster which we had observed from the
other quay. Some bystander said that she was a Norwegian vessel. I went
to the stern and tried to decipher the legend upon it but, failing to do
so, I came back and examined the foreign sailors to see had any of them
green eyes for I had some confused notion.... The sailors' eyes were
blue and grey and even black. The only sailor whose eyes could have been
called green was a tall man who amused the crowd on the quay by calling
out cheerfully every time the planks fell:

"All right! All right!"

When we were tired of this sight we wandered slowly into Ringsend. The
day had grown sultry, and in the windows of the grocers' shops musty
biscuits lay bleaching. We bought some biscuits and chocolate which
we ate sedulously as we wandered through the squalid streets where the
families of the fishermen live. We could find no dairy and so we went
into a huckster's shop and bought a bottle of raspberry lemonade each.
Refreshed by this, Mahony chased a cat down a lane, but the cat escaped
into a wide field. We both felt rather tired and when we reached the
field we made at once for a sloping bank over the ridge of which we
could see the Dodder.

It was too late and we were too tired to carry out our project of
visiting the Pigeon House. We had to be home before four o'clock lest
our adventure should be discovered. Mahony looked regretfully at his
catapult and I had to suggest going home by train before he regained
any cheerfulness. The sun went in behind some clouds and left us to our
jaded thoughts and the