This morning it was raining heavily, and the host got out some nets and set to work with his son and son-in-law, mending many holes that had been cut by dog-fish, as the mackerel season is soon to begin.  While they were at work the kitchen emptied and filled continually with islanders passing in and out, and discussing the weather and the season.  Then they started cutting each other’s hair, the man who was being cut sitting with an oilskin round him on a little stool by the door, and some other men came in to sharpen their razors on the host’s razor-strop, which seems to be the only one on the island.  I had not shaved since I arrived, so the little hostess asked me after a while if I would like to shave myself before dinner.  I told her I would, so she got me some water in the potato-dish and put it on a chair; then her sister got me a little piece of broken looking-glass and put it on a nail near the door, where there was some light.  I set to work, and as I stood with my back to the people I could catch a score of eyes in the glass, watching me intently.  ‘That is a great improvement to you now,’ said the host, when I had done; ’and whenever you want a beard, God bless you, you’ll have a thick one surely.’

When I was coming down in the evening from the ridge of the island, where I spent much of my time looking at the richness of the Atlantic on one side and the sad or shining greys of Dingle Bay on the other, I was joined by two young women and we walked back together.  Just outside the village we met an old women who stopped and laughed at us.  ’Well, aren’t you in good fortune this night, stranger,’ she said, ’to be walking up and down in the company of women?’

‘I am surely,’ I answered; ’isn’t that the best thing to be doing in the whole world?’

At our own door I saw the little hostess sweeping the floor, so I went down for a moment to the gable of the cottage, and looked out over the roofs of the little village to the sound, where the tide was running with extraordinary force.  In a few minutes the little hostess came down and stood beside me—­she thought I should not be left by myself when I had been driven away by the dust—­and I asked her many questions about the names and relationships of the people that I am beginning to know.

Afterwards, when many of the people had come together in the kitchen, the men told me about their lobster-pots that are brought from Southampton, and cost half-a-crown each.  ‘In good weather,’ said the man who was talking to me, ’they will often last for a quarter; but if storms come up on them they will sometimes break up in a week or two.  Still and all, it’s a good trade; and we do sell lobsters and crayfish every week in the season to a boat from England or a boat from France that does come in here, as you’ll maybe see before you go.’