of the Mayo inquests may have been the occasion of more dreadful revelations than even those of Skibbereen, but they did not receive the same extensive and detailed publicity.  Here are two or three starvation cases from that county.  Patrick M’Loughlin, in the parish of Islandeady, was ordered by the Relief Committee a labour-ticket, in consequence of earnest representations as to his starving condition.  He did not get the ticket for five days, he, his wife and five children not having a morsel of food in the interval.  Having at length obtained the ticket, he produced it, and went to labour on the Public Works.  He got no pay for the first three days, and in the meantime his wife died from actual starvation.  Being unable to purchase the timber for a coffin in which to bury her, poor M’Loughlin held over the remains for upwards of forty-eight hours; but yet anxious to earn what would give her decent sepulture, and at the same time procure food for his children, he went each of the two days her remains were in his cabin to labour, and spent the night in sorrowing over his departed wife.  At length the story came to the ears of the parochial clergy, one of whom immediately furnished the means of interment, and she was consigned to the grave at night, in order that the survivors might not lose the benefit of M’Loughlin’s toil on the following day.[188] Bridget Joyce, a widow with four children, was found dead in a little temporary building, which had been erected in a field to shelter sheep.  One of the children was grown enough to give some attention to her dying mother, but had nothing to moisten her parched lips but a drop of water or a piece of snow.  The woman died, and so poor were the people of the locality, that for want of a few boards to make a coffin, she remained uninterred for eight days.  There is a melancholy peculiarity in the case of a young lad named Edmond M’Hale.  When he had been a considerable time without food, he became, or seemed to become, delirious.  As his death approached, he said from time to time to his mother—­“Mother, give me three grains of corn.”  The afflicted woman regarded this partly as the mental wandering of her raving child, and partly as a sign of the starvation of which he was dying.  She tried to soothe him with such loving words as mothers only know how to use. “Astore,” she would say, “I have no corn yet awhile—­wait till by-and-by;” “Sure if I had all the corn in the world I’d give it to you, avour-neen;” “You’ll soon have plenty with the help of God.”  A neighbouring woman who was present at the touching scene searched the poor boy’s pockets after he had died, and found in one of them three grains of corn, no doubt the very three grains for which, in his delirium, he was calling.  Many of the deaths which happened are too revolting and too horrible to relate; no one could travel any considerable distance in Mayo at this period without meeting the famine-stricken dead by the roadside.