When I took it up to my room, I looked at it every way.
I knew, of course, that it was a message, somehow, but devil a bit could I see where it came in.
"I fingered it for an hour, looking at it in every way, and then I saw that there were some small holes pricked.

Well, I could not ask the woman what they meant, as I had told her I picked it up; so I went across to an Irishman, whose acquaintance I had made the day before, and who had recommended me, if I wanted work, to hire one of these chairs and get a comrade to help me carry it.

I could see that he was a man who had seen better days.

I expect he had come over in the time of the troubles, and had been forced to earn his living as he could; so I went to him.
"'I have got a message,' I said, 'pricked on a piece of paper.

I picked it up, and am curious-like to know what it is about.' "So he held it up to the light, and read out your message.
"'I think,' says he, 'it is some colleen who has made an appointment with her lover.