When there was a rumour of war with France a while ago, I met a poor Sligo woman, a soldier’s widow, that I know, and I read her a sente of a letter I had just had from London: “The people here are mad for war, but France seems ined to take things peacefully,” or some like sentence. Her mind ran a good deal on war, which she imagined partly from what she had heard from soldiers, and partly from tradition of the rebellion of ‘98, but the word London doubled her i, for she khere were a great many people in London, and she herself had once lived in “a gested district.” “There are too many over one another in London. They are getting tired of the world. It is killed they want to be. It will be no matter; but sure the French want nothing but pead quietness. The people here don’t mind the war ing. They could not be worse than they are. They may as well die soldierly befod. Sure they will get quarters in heaven.” Then she began to say that it would b……（内容加载失败！）
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