It is uncertain when the potato became an article of general food in Ireland, and it is more probable that, as in England, they had long been considered 'conserves, toothsome and daintie', before they were in general use. It is generally believed, however, that the potato celebrated in the Elizabethan age, is 'not the same root as that now commonly known by that name'.
It is unnecessary to state that, for above a century and a half, the potato has been the only food of the peasantry of Ireland. They raise corn, wheat, barley and oats in abundance, but it is for export and - although the assertion may startle many - we have no hesitation in saying that there are hundreds in the less civilized districts of the country who have never tasted bread. Whether the Irish have to bless or ban the name of Sir Walter Raleigh is a matter still in dispute, but it is generally admitted that a finer or hardier race of peasantry cannot be found in the world, and although it is considered that their strength fails them at a comparatively early age, it is impossible to deny the nutritive qualities of the root upon which so many millions have thriven and increased.
But there can be as little doubt that the ease with which the means of existence are procured has been the cause of evil; a very limited portion of land, a few days labor, and a small amount of manure will create a stock upon which a family may exist for twelve months. Also, the periods between exhausting the old stock and digging the new are seasons of great want, if not of absolute famine. If the season is propitious the peasant digs day after day the produce of his plot of ground and, before winter sets in, places the residue in a pit to which he has access when his wants demand a supply. Every cottage has a garden of an acre or half-acre attached, and as cultivation requires but a very small proportion of the peasant's time and still less of his attention, his labor remains to be disposed of, or his time may be squandered in idleness. He can live if his crops do not fail, and he can pay his rent if his pig - fed like himself out of the garden - does not die, but to decency of clothing and to any of the luxuries that make life something more that animal existence, he is too often a stranger.
The peasant usually has three meals - one at eight in the morning, at noon, and at seven or eight in the evening when his work is done. The potatoes are boiled in an iron pot and strained in a basket from which they are thrown upon the table - seldom without a cloth - and around which the family sit on stools and bosses (the boss is a low seat of straw). The usual drink is buttermilk when it can be had, and it goes around in a small piggin, a sort of miniature English pail...."
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