Irish ways . THE LOAN OF A PENCIL I Even a few minutes seem a great space of life whenyou are being whirled along, fast in the grip ofwild waters, coiled about and about you, struggling,gasping, choking, feeling the invisible hand pressedheavily on your head to keep it under, and snatchingwith your own futile hands at priceless solid thingswhich pitilessly repulse you, while many-huedflashes lighten before your eyes, and many-tonednoises thunder round your ears, that, blind anddeaf, you may the more desperately perish. Suchat least was Robert Fennells experience imme-diately after he had slipp
Irish ways . THE LOAN OF A PENCIL I Even a few minutes seem a great space of life whenyou are being whirled along, fast in the grip ofwild waters, coiled about and about you, struggling,gasping, choking, feeling the invisible hand pressedheavily on your head to keep it under, and snatchingwith your own futile hands at priceless solid thingswhich pitilessly repulse you, while many-huedflashes lighten before your eyes, and many-tonednoises thunder round your ears, that, blind anddeaf, you may the more desperately perish. Suchat least was Robert Fennells experience imme-diately after he had slipped off a rocking slab of 152 IRISH WAYS stone in the flooded Conra River. He had set anunfortunate foot upon its treacherous face, luredby the bait of an uncommon-looking fern-tuft,green beneath a dripping ledge, and a sudden tilthad fort!iwith toppled him over. For a terribletime it appeared as if he were going to be drownedoutright ; then at last something seized him bythe sleeve, and he feared it was only
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Keywords: ., bo, bookauthorbarlowjane18571917, bookcentury1900, bookdecade1900