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Updated: May 1, 2025
Every minute the University boat was getting nearer the other. "Go it, Quins!" shouted the students. "Pull away, Lantas!" screamed the girls, who were crowding down to the edge of the water. Nearer, nearer, the rear boat is pressing the other more and more closely, a few more strokes, and they will be even, for there is but one length between them, and thirty rods will carry them to the line.
The chieftain of the Quins, who owned the Castle of Inchiquin on the lake of that name, near the town of Ennis in Ireland, found in one of the many caves of the neighbourhood a lady who consented to become his bride, only stipulating that no one bearing the name of O'Brien should be allowed to enter the castle gate.
It may be safely said that the primitive form of the taboo has not come down to us in this tale, and that it owes its present form to the fact that the O'Briens have acquired the estates once owned by the Quins. Probably the utterance of some hateful name was forbidden.
Mike Duffy and his wife came into the Quins' kitchen one week-day night, dressed in their Sunday clothes; they had been making a visit to their well-married daughter in Lawrence. Patrick Quin's chair was comfortably tipped back against the wall, and Bridget, who looked somewhat gloomy, was putting away the white supper-dishes. "Where 's Nora?" demanded Mike Duffy, after the first salutations.
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