Of Tory Island, with its famous tower, dating back to the fabled "Fomorians," we had some grand glimpses.

The white surf, flashing and leaping high in the air on the nearer islets accented and gave life to the landscape.
In one glorious landlocked bay, we saw not a single boat riding.

Our driver said, "The fishermen all live on Tory Island, and send their fish to Sligo.

The people on the mainland don't like going out in the boats." Lord Ernest tells me there is a movement to have a telegraph station set up on Tory Island, to announce the Canadian steamers coming into Moville for Deny.
We found Falcarragh, or "Cross-Roads," a large clean-looking village, consisting of one long and broad street, through which horses and cattle were wandering in numbers, apparently at their own sweet will.
Ballyconnell House, the seat of Mr.Wybrants Olphert, is the manor house of the place.

As we drew near, no signs appeared of the dreadful "Boycott." The great gates of the park stood hospitably open, and we drove in unchallenged past a pretty ivy-clad lodge, and through low, but thickly planted groves.