File:Irish memories (1919) (14759950501).jpg

Identifier: irishmemories00some (find matches)
Title: Irish memories
Year: 1919 (1910s)
Authors: Somerville, E. . (Edith none), 1858-1949
Subjects: Ross, Martin, 1862-1915 Martin, Violet Florence, 1865-1915 Ireland -- Social life and customs
Publisher: New York : Longmans, Green and Co.
Contributing Library: University of California Libraries
Digitizing Sponsor: MSN

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her out hunting to chargewhat came in her way, with no more knowledge ofwhat was to happen than Marcus Curtius had whenhe leaped into the gulf. It is trite, not to say stupid, to expatiate upon thatJanuary Sunday when I first met her; yet it hasproved the hinge of my life, the place where my fate,and hers, turned over, and new and unforeseen thingsbegan to happen to us. They did not happen atonce. An idler, more good-for-nothing pack of blag-yards than we all were could not easily be found.I, alone, kept up a pretence of occupation ; I wasmaking drawings for the Graphic in those days, andwas in the habit of impounding my young friends asmodels. My then studio—better known as the Pur-lieu, because my mother, inveighing against itsextreme disorder, had compared it to * the revoltingpurlieus of some disgusting town —(I have said shedid not spare emphasis)—was a meeting place forthe unemployed, I may say the unemployable, eventhough I could occasionally wring a pose from one ofthem.
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MARTIN ROSS ON CONFIDENCE. U QIkZOU Z o O s WHEN FIRST SHE CAME 123 Many and strange were the expedients to which Ihad to resort in the execution of those drawings forthe Graphic. For one series that set forth the romanticand cheiromantic adventures of a clergyman, and thelady (Martin) of his choice, the bedroom of a clericalguest had to be burgled, and his Sunday coat and hatabstracted, at imminent risk of discovery. In another,entitled A Mule Ride in Trinidad, a brother, inthe exiguous costume of bathing drawers and a largestraw hat, was for two mornings one of the attractionsand ornaments of the Purlieu, after which he retiredto bed with a heavy cold, calling down curses uponthe Purlieu stove (an objet dart of which Mrs.Martin had said that it solved the problem of pro-ducing smoke without fire). Of another series dealingwith the adventures of a student of the violin in Paris,I find in my diary the moving entry, CrucifiedMartin head downwards, as the fiddle girl, practising,with her music on the floor. Compe

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