by Nell Gaten

Just before summer vacation began, Mam told us that she, Aunt Mary, Maeve and I were going on a boat trip to the Isle of Man. She took out a map and showed us where it was located in the Irish Sea with Northern Ireland on the west, Scotland to the north and England on the east. She told us that the chief occupations were farming, tourism and fishing. We had heard about the tailless Manx cats, and they were our only interest. We travelled overnight and arrived early the next morning. Most of the guests in the hotel where we stayed were adults who made a great fuss over us.

We unpacked quickly and went out for a walk along a street lined with quaint little shops. One which really appealed to us was a candy shop where a man in a tuxedo stood at the door handing out candy canes to everyone. Further along the street we joined a crowd of people who stood listening to a man singing "Yes, We Have No Bananas." When he finished and the applause had died down, he sold the sheet music of the song. Mam and Auntie liked the antique shops, but we kept asking where the Manx cats were. Mam said that they were out in the country and that we would take a tour bus the next day and go to see them.

The weather was beautiful the next day, so Mam decided that we should go to the beach. It was very pleasant there, and we swam for a long time but kept pestering Mam about the Manx cats. She promised that we would see them the following day. We didn’t realize then that our mother did not really like cats. Maeve and I got up early the next morning and chatted excitedly about the cats, wondering what they would look like.

At last, we were on the tour bus, "heading for the cats." We fidgeted impatiently every time the driver stopped to point out something of interest. We seemed to be driving for hours before he mentioned the Manx cats. He explained to us that they were not in cages like animals at the zoo, but were owned by private families who allowed them to run around their fenced yards. He said he would stop where he knew there would be several cats. At last the bus stopped, and the driver told us to look out the window where we would see two cats running around. We wanted to get off the bus, but he said the cats would be scared and probably disappear. We were disappointed, but at least we did see the Manx cats which Maeve and I though looked very funny without their tails. No one else, including the driver, seemed the least bit interested.

I don’t remember much else about our visit to the Isle of Man which ended a couple of days later. We had enjoyed ourselves but wanted to know where our next trip would be. Mam told us we would have to settle down and get ready for school and forget about trips.

A few months later, however, we learned that Dad had a new job in Dublin City and that we would be moving there in a few months. My older brother, Sean, and Maeve and I had been to Dublin to visit relatives manly times, but our three younger brothers had never been there. Dad and Mam went house-hunting, and after a few weeks told us that they had found a nice house in the suburbs where many large families lived. Maeve and I were happy to hear this since very few families with young children lived near where we were then living, and we hope that we would make many new friends. The boys didn’t care since they had each other.

All the relatives came to help with the move which occurred in February, 1935. Even though our new home was smaller than the old one, we liked it much better. Maeve and I were thrilled to discover that one of the girls who lived in the house had left lots of toys behind. The boys were allowed to go outside by themselves to play with the boys on our street, but my parents were much more particular about the girls my sister and I wished to become friendly with. In fact, Mam couldn’t understand why we needed "outsiders" when we had each other. Why couldn’t we be like her and her two sisters who had been close friends all their lives and never needed "outsiders"? We disagreed with her but kept silent.

The former owner of our house was a Dr. O’Donovan. Dad was not a doctor, but we had the same last name--O’Donovan. Many of the doctor’s patients did not know that he had moved, and they knocked on our door, asking if the doctor was in. We children loved this, and sometimes pretended that our dad was the doctor. When Mam discovered this, we were all forbidden to answer the door ever.

The first school Maeve and I attended was quite a distance from our home, and it was difficult for us to become friends with any of our classmates, but then we switched to the local school, two blocks away, where our classmates were our neighbors. Now we really began to enjoy living in Dublin. We went roller skating and bike riding with our new friends, and every Saturday morning wwe went to an Irish Dancing class with them. But Mam still insisted that we go everywhere together. Luckily, Maeve’s friends were the younger sisters of mine.