Page:Strange Roads & With the Gods in Spring.djvu/32

Strange Roads Antrim way. But I can show you plenty of fairy thorns. There," he said, pointing to an old, crooked thorn tree growing in the middle of a meadow, "that's a fairy thorn; and I can tell you that the farmer who rents that land—I know him well; he's a strong Presbyterian—would rather cut off his right hand than lay a finger on that tree."

We passed through a dreary village; the ugly houses full on the street, without a sign of a garden or a flower anywhere.

"It's uneasy here sometimes," said Mr. Gillespie. "You see, about half the people are Protestants and