To me he even seemed, at times, to be filling a third office; that of doctor--of amateur doctor, to be sure, but all the more appreciated, because his advice and his remedies were given gratuitously. From time to time, the door opened and a bundle of rags appeared, from which issued a voice of lamentation. This was an old woman, who had come to ask for a prescription. Special aptitude is required to practise medicine in this country; for it appears that, as a rule, every village possesses an old woman, who, for a small salary, undertakes to go in search of the doctor, giving as though for herself an exact account of the illness from which the real patient, who does not show himself, is suffering, but to whom she faithfully delivers the medicine that has been given to her. This system has the advantage of avoiding journeys and expense on the patient’s account, for the old woman, who is always the most miserable in the district, receives the medicine and advice gratis from the county. But these customs render the diagnosis curiously complicated. It is not only invalids who, this morning, flock to Mr. Trench. There are also a great many farmers. Twenty-five or thirty are waiting grouped before the door. They are tall, thin fellows, with short breeches, and high-crowned hats pulled down over their eyes, each holding a blackthorn shillalah under one arm. Still smoking their little short pipes, they gesticulate, talk and laugh, with so much animation that from time to time one of the secretaries interposes with “Hush, hush!” Each man, when admitted in his turn, begins by carefully putting out his pipe, and placing it in his waistcoat pocket; then, taking off his hat, his whole physiognomy suddenly changes its expression. The man, lively a minute before, assumes a broken-hearted attitude as he crosses the threshold of the office, and begins in a dolorous voice the litany, now so well known by every landowner in the country: “The year is very bad. The cattle will not sell!” However, a good many bring something on account, and it is easy to see that the relations are much less strained here than in many other parts. These sums on account are not large. Mr. Trench told me yesterday that usually at this season he receives 400_l._ per week, but that this year he does not receive more than 40_l._ This is not brilliant certainly; but, however, they must not complain. The priest at Kenmare, a president of the Land League, is a gentle, conciliating man; he is on the best terms with Mr. Trench, and through each doing his best, they have, until now, prevented a complete rupture.