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  <node>
    <title>Boyd125</title>
    <Collections>Boyd Letters</Collections>
    <Contributor>Boyd Estate</Contributor>
    <Coverage>19 Jan</Coverage>
    <Creator>Linen Hall Library</Creator>
    <Date>Wednesday, March 16, 2016</Date>
    <Format>TIFF</Format>
    <Identifier>Boyd125</Identifier>
    <ItemDescription>Letter</ItemDescription>
    <Keywords>Larne, Parades</Keywords>
    <Language>English</Language>
    <Path>https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/content/boyd125</Path>
    <Publisher>Linen Hall Library</Publisher>
    <Relation>Linen Hall Library</Relation>
    <Rights>Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike CC BY-NC-SA</Rights>
    <Scannedimage>https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/sites/default/files/Boyd125_1.jpg</Scannedimage>
    <Source>LHL Archive</Source>
    <Transcript>﻿8
Patrick’s day there, but all the same it
meant a good deal to one lonely
visitor, though  Im not one for parades at any time
normally not addicted
to parades of any kind. I find here at
home the Twelfth of July to be the
saddest parade in the world.
(As I wrote that last sentence a bomb detonated
somewhere in the city and I
left this back bedroom and looked
out of the front for smoke, but
the morning istoo misty and
I can’t see more than a
hundred yards).xxxx)

Yes, we love parades,
don’t we? The Orangemen
particularly. They’re Irish
in that respect at least,
</Transcript>
    <Type>Text</Type>
  </node>
</>
