They'd let a labourer die in the ditch!" All that this poor man said was corroborated by another man of a higher class, very familiar with the conditions of life and labour here, and indeed one of the most interesting men I have met in Ireland.

Born the son of a labouring man, he was educated by a priest and educated himself, till he fitted himself for the charge of a small school, which he kept to such good purpose that in eighteen years he saved L1100, with which capital he resolved to begin life as a small farmer and shopkeeper.

He had studied all the agricultural works he could get, and before he went fairly into the business, he travelled on the Continent, looking carefully into the methods of culture and manner of life of the people, especially in Italy and in Belgium.

The Belgian farming gave him new ideas of what might be done in Ireland, and those ideas he has put into practice, with the best results.
"On the same land with my neighbours," he said, "I double their production.

Where they get two tons of hay I get four or four and a half, where they get forty-five barrels of potatoes I get a hundred.
Only the other day I got L20 for a bullock I had taken pains with to fatten him up scientifically.