Dear Mom, Dad & All:-

     We're off again on Chapter II of An Irish Journey as I sit here yet after finding there will be no train from here until noon, although it's scheduled to leave at 8:30.  I'll go by bus instead at 11:15.  But back to my story. br>     I was hungry again when I got off the train at Dublin so I went into the station tea room for a bite.  The first thing that surprised me was a bowl of sugar on the table.  Then the waitress came over and said I could have bacon & egg, which I ordered.  Instead of egg, it was eggs, two of them which I promptly stowed away.  "I think I'm going to like this country", I said to myself as I paid my bill and left.
     Coming out of the station into another strange city I looked around and picked out a street to start out on.  I had nowhere in particular to go immediately so decided to walk down to the center of town.  I chose a street that looked as if it might lead there and started out.  I hadn't gone very far along it until I stopped in my tracks and stared.  Yes, it was real; a candy shop with a window full of chocolates, peppermints, gum drops and beautiful boxes of candy.  I walked along a bit further and there was a drug store with a window full of cameras and films.  In I went and to my amazement was able to buy two rolls of Super XX film ten cents cheaper than Verichrome cost me in England when I could get it.  As I walked on I noticed that this city was definitely Americanized.  The shops, cafes, window displays, etc. were entirely different from England.  A few blocks walking brought me to the main drag "0'Connell Street".  I've sent post cards that show how it looks better than I can describe it.  I turned to the left and walked along window shopping in what seemed to be the land of milk and honey.  There were dozens of candy stores all with windows filled.  I went into one and got a bag of fudge, and was it good.  Further along I went into a tobacconists and bought a cigarette lighter, and a couple dozen post cards to mail back to the relatives.  It was now about six o'clock so I looked up the address of Tom Shelly and inquired how to get there.  Getting aboard a bus as directed I enjoyed the short ride through the city to Redmonds Hill, where I got off and started down the street.  20, 18, 17a, 17, 16 and no 16a.  These numbers were all shops and the "a" was the upstairs.  I looked across the street but the numbers there were in the sixties.  Well!  This was a fine howdy do.  So in I go to the shop numbered 16.  Inquiry revealed that there was no 16a at all.  I got out your letter again to see if I'd copied it wrong, but there it was 16a Redmonds Hill.  "Maybe," the shopkeeper suggested, "it's Richmond Hill."  He told me that was about ten minutes walk from there so I said I'd go along and try it.  I went up to the corner and seeing a Pub open there I went in and inquired if they had ever heard of Tom, but no dice.  He had a city directory there, but there was no Tom Shelly at either address, but I decided I'd go up to Richmond Hill and inquire anyway.  When I got there I went up to the house marked 16 and an old Irish woman met me at the door and said, "Are you the man looking for "Thomas Shelly?"  I was sure surprised and said, "Yes, I was."  "Now isn't that too bad." She says, "He just left here about five minutes ago on his bicycle."  "Oh," I said, "Does he live here?"  "No," she says, "but he came over and said he had heard you were looking for him and there was a mixup in the adress.  He may have left word with the landlady.  I'll call her".  So she got the landlady and sure enough he had left his address with her 10a Redmonds Hill.  Well that was a releif, so back I go to Redmonds Hill to the next block from the one I had been looking in and there he was.  I thought for a minute George Knoll had been transplanted to Ireland, he looked so much like him.  He was working in a Pub at 10 Redmonds Hill and living upstairs with a family.  He welcomed me warmly and said that one of the fellows in the store up the street had come in and said that an American had come in looking for somebody.  They only knew Tom as Tom.  When he heard that he asked more, and knew it must be me and that I was headed for Richmond Hill so he jumped on his bike and rode up there, but I hadn't got there yet so he left his address with the landlady and rode back.  I had gone a different way so didn't see him.  It was only the coincidence of the fellow dropping in for a sup that got us together.  The proprietor of the pub, a little short Irishman who made as much of my arrival as Tom bought me a drink of Irish whiskey and then told Tom he could go.
     The first requisite for me was a place to stay.  We inquired at several hotels about prices, but Tom wasn't satisfied with any of them, he said he wanted me to get my money's worth so we went over to the north end to a hotel he knew where I could get a bed & breakfast for six shillings a night.  That's a dollar and twenty cents in US money so it wasn't bad.  It was a nice room with a double bed and suited perfectly so I paid for four nights in advance and moved in.  Tom then suggested getting bite to eat as it was now about nine thirty so we walked downtown, about a half mile and went into the Savoy Restaurant.  It was a beautiful place and a women's string ensemble consisting of the violins, cello and piano, was playing "Jalonsie," a lovely tango number.  We sat down and proceeded to get acquainted over a cup or tea, or rather a pot of tea and some cakes.  I found out he was twenty-three, was from Kilkenny, had been working for an insurance office, but it had closed so he had gone in for bar tending since there were no jobs to be had in his line, shorthand & typing.  After having our lunch we walked back to the hotel and he said he would call for me at 10:30 the next morning, Sunday, and we would go to eleven o'clock Mass.  I then went up to bed to sleep like a log after a long and eventful day.  I had flown 150 miles, passed through three countries; Scotland, Ireland and Eire; seen the capitols of two of them, Belfast and Dublin; traveled 120 miles by rail; discussed the war with an American Consul, and found a new friend after a few difficulties.  Quite a schedule.
     I'm back in Aberdeen now as I continue this and will have to do a bit of recollecting.
     Tom called for me and we walked over to his Church.  It was a huge one, about like St. Lukes, in St. Paul.  There were two Masses going on when we walked in, one finishing and another starting.  We attended the one just starting and before it was finished another High Mass began on the main altar.  It would be a great church for the Cane's, they'd never be late for Mass.
     After Mass we walked across to another part of town where Tom was to meet his girl friend.  We met both she and her sister coming from Mass.  Having nothing in particular to do we boarded a bus and rode out to the Botanical Guardens (with this army life I only think of one kind of guard, hence the mispelling when writing fast).  All kinds of flowers were in bloom as well as all the trees.  The trees especially struck me.  They looked like our apple and plum trees in bloom, but the colors were red, orange and pale green.  I took several pictures and will send prints as soon as I can get them made.  I took over a hundred pictures while I was in Ireland or rather, Eire.  We went on back to the pub where Tom worked from there, leaving the girls near their home.  I then buzzed off to a Hotel Cafe to eat dinner while Tom went to work until four o'clock.  It poured rain while I was eating, but had finished when I had.  I went back out and met Tom and we went over to my hotel where I left my camera and got my top-coat.  Tom had arranged to meet his girl friend at the Savoy so we went there, met her and had tea together, after which we took in the second running of "China Seas" at one of the theatres.  When we came out the rain was pouring down again so we hopped a bus back to my hotel.  Tom & Shiela, I think her name was, came into the parlor with me to wait until the rain let up a bit before continuing.  We had a bit of a chat and she agreed to call for me at eleven in the morning to do some more sight seeing.  The rain finally let up and they went home and I went up to bed.  Next morining I got up about ten o'clock and after a wash and shave had breakfast and got ready to leave.  Tom and Shiela both showed up about eleven fifteen and we took off for Phoenix Park, one of the large city parks something like Como.  It was still showery, the sun shining all the time and an occasional big black cloud floating over and breaking overhead.  We walked all around the Park and I took several pictures.  For the first time I saw huge piles of peat, or Turf, as they call it here along the edge of the road on one side of the park for lack of a better place to store it.  They have no coal there now and Turf is used almost exclusively.  The park as a whole didn't differ much from the usual type and after wandering around for a couple hours we went back downtown.  Tom went out to go to work and Shiela and I went to the Metropole for something to eat.  This is a restaurant with three floors and it was full.  We had tea and eggs & french fries & cakes and then went to the Majestic Theatre for a show.  It was like the RKO Orpheum and wasn't bad.  The audience was the noisiest I've ever seen anywhere.  There were some very good vocal numbers, but you could hardly here them over the chatter of the crowd.  I was completely disgusted.  It was like going to the Mounds on Saturday afternoon.  (Refill) [-- (Changed to black ink)--] We met Tom after the show and once again went to the Savoy for a bite of lunch before going home.
     Next day I got up about eleven o'clock and after shaving and cleaning up had breakfast and started to write post cards to the relatives and friends.  This took me until two o'clock.  I went downtown then and got a bite to eat before meeting Tom at three o'clock.  We walked out to Stevens Park and after a look around there went over to the Memorial Museum where they have all the notices, uniforms, and relics of the seven Irish revolutions.  It certainly was interesting to read the inflamatory speeches and notices which were posted throughout the country.  All the uniforms worn by the leaders were there as well.  On the second floor were examples of Irish sculpture, pottery, painting, linen work, and the like.  We spent a couple hours there with Tom pointing out the particular items from the 1916 rebellion with great pride.  They are just as proud of it as we are of the 1776 affair, a feeling which I never new existed so strongly.  We then visited a couple pubs and had some ale and a chat with various people around the bars.  Going back downtown again we met Sheila and had tea in a downstairs cafe, "The Grand Central".  I had steak and chips.  The steak wasn't so good, but it was a change for sausage and bacon.  After this we went to another theatre to see "Sullivans Travels" which was just fair.  Tom and Shiela went home after the show and I stopped at the Savoy for a bit of supper.  When I returned home the landlady let me in and seemed to be in a conversational mood.  I found she was a short story writer, her son ran a business college, and her youngest daughter aged 20, was considered the most beautiful girl in Dublin.  I met her later when I came back on the way home to Scotland and quite agree with them.  She is always being written up in the newspapers and does a bit of acting.  The landlady went on to tell me that the place I was staying was, in the pre-1916 era, the home of Sir Ian Hamilton, who was one of the British governors of Ireland.  The beautiful mirrors about the walls and stair cases and the huge fireplaces, some of them brought from Russia, were relics of that bygone age.  She talked for over an hour, while I said an occasional yes or no, and seemed to be very well educated.  I finally broke away and got to bed for my last nights sleep in Dublin.  The next morning, Wednesday, I was awakened at seven AM and hastily went through the usual morning ablutions, ate the usual breakfast of bacon and eggs, packed my overnight case and started off once again.  Tom met me at the Post Office in the center of town and we took a bus to the depot.  When we got there his boss, Dennis, was there, too, to see me off.  I bought a couple magazines, and got aboard, hoping to get to Cork on time.
     As we went inland from the sea the landscape became more hilly and rocky with bright green valleys and hills, small streams trickling down their sides and an occasional river.  Small stone cottages dotted the hillsides, with smoke from the peat fires drifting lazily skyward from their chimney pots.  It was raining intermittently as usual, but no one paid any attention to it.  In the little towns we stopped at, small two-wheeled donkey carts with little donkeys not much bigger than Sport pulling them along.  It was about as primitive a mode of travel as I've seen yet, but with no coal or petrol available, considerably better than walking.  I took several snaps from the train as we loafed along about twenty-five miles an hour.  I hope they turn out well.  We arrived in Cork about a half hour late, which was record time for the trip.  As I've been writing on this intermittently for the past week I'll mail it and continue in another letter.

Cheerio,

Thatch