These Irish hop-pickers were so inured to privation {71} in their own country that they were very popular among the Kentish hop-farmers, as they did not grumble so much as did the English pickers at the scandalously inefficient accommodation provided for them. Often before Parnell became really strong I used to watch for hours beside him as he slept before the drawing-room fire, till I had to rouse him in time to go to the House. Once, when he was moving restlessly, I heard him murmur in his sleep, as I pulled the light rug better over him: "Steer carefully out of the harbour--there are breakers ahead." He now had all the parcels and letters he received sent on to me, so that I might open them and give him only those it was necessary for him to deal with. There were hundreds of letters to go through every week, though, as he calmly explained, "If you get tired with them, leave them and they'll answer themselves." Often among the parcels there were comestibles, and among these every week came a box of eggs without the name and address of the sender. I was glad to see these eggs as the winter came on and with it the usual reluctance of our hens to provide us with sufficient eggs, but Mr. Parnell would not allow me to use them, for he said: "They might be eggs, but then again they might not," and I had to send them a good distance down the garden and have them broken to make sure of their genuineness, and then he would worry lest our dogs should find them and poison themselves. On his visits to Ireland he wrote to me continually:-- DUBLIN, _Tuesday._ MY DEAR MRS. O'SHEA,--I have just a moment on my return from Ennis to catch the late post and reply to your wire. {72} I received your two letters quite safely, and you may write me even nicer ones with perfect confidence. I blame myself very much for not having written you on my way through Dublin on Saturday, as you were evidently anxious about your notes, but I hope you will forgive me as there were only a few minutes to spare. I trust to see you in London on Tuesday next. Is it true that Captain O'Shea is in Paris, and, if so, when do you expect his return? ... I have had no shooting, weather too wet, but shall try to-morrow, when you may expect some heather. DUBLIN, _Friday evening, October_ 2, 1880. Have just received your wire; somehow or other something from you seems a necessary part of my daily existence, and if I have to go a day or two without even a telegram it seems dreadful. I want to know how you intend to excuse yourself for telling me not to come on purpose if I must return. (To Ireland.) Of course, I am going on purpose to see you; and it is also unhappily true that I cannot remain long. Shall cross Monday evening, and shall call at Morrison's for a message.