The Blackened Hands

An old woman in west Clare told me a story about when she was a young girl. In christmas 19 20, there was a throug and not a good time to be caught out outdoors. She upset the candle in the window, and the curtons went up on fire. The mother smelt the smoke and rushed down, but she couldn't put out the fire. And what do you think she did? Up she ran to the barrack. There were no running water, of course, in those days. But there was a big pool of water across the road, ice on it. Itwas very cold that december. With the butts of their rifles, they