climbing the wheel. Mr. Hannon says I should never do the likes of that again. Never put your leg or hand near a wheel when the horse is har- nessed in the shafts. A horse might take a notion to go for a walk for himself and there you are with the leg or the arm caught in the wheel and twisted off your body and you looking at it. He says to the horse, G’up ower that,and the horse shakes his head and rattles the harness and Mr.Hannon laughs.That fool of a horse loves to work,he says.He won’t be rattling his harness in a few hours. When the rain starts we cover ourselves with old coal bags and Mr. Hannon turns his pipe upside down in his mouth to keep the tobacco dry. He says the rain makes everything heavier but what’s the use of complaining.You might as well complain about the sun in Africa. We cross the Sarsfield Bridge for deliveries to the Ennis Road and the North Circular Road. Rich people, says Mr. Hannon, and very slow to put their hands in their pockets for a tip. We have sixteen bags to deliver. Mr. Hannon says we’re lucky today because  some  houses  get  more  than  one  and  he  doesn’t  have  to  be climbing on and off that float destroying his legs.When we stop he gets down and I pull the bag to the edge and lay it on his shoulders. Some houses have areas outside where you pull up a trap door and tip the bag till it empties and that’s easy.There are other houses with long backyards and you can see Mr. Hannon suffering with his legs when he has to carry the bags from the float to the sheds near the back doors.Ah, Jay- sus, Frankie, ah, Jaysus, is the only complaint out of him and he asks me to give him a hand to climb back on the float. He says if he had a hand- cart he could wheel the bags from float to house and that would be a blessing but a handcart would cost two weeks’ wages and who could afford that? The bags are delivered and the sun is out, the float is empty, and the horse knows his workday is over. It’s lovely to sit on the float looking along the length of the horse from his tail to his head rocking along the Ennis Road over the Shannon and up the Dock Road.Mr.Hannon says the   man   who   delivered   sixteen   hundredweights   of   coal   and   turf deserves a pint and the boy who helped him deserves a lemonade. He tells me I should go to school and not be like him working away with the two legs rotting under him. Go to school, Frankie, and get out of Limerick and Ireland itself.This war will be over some day and you can go to America or Australia or any big open country where you can look up and see no end to the land.The world is wide and you can have great 259