There is an old cowlac near my home, in the townland of Cappaghbeg about two miles from Mount Kid, in which a weaver used to live long ago. All the people round the district in which I live used to cut the wool off the sheep and wash it carefully.
They used to then card it and spin it into thread, and take it to this weaver who used to manufacture it into cloth.
The name of this weaver was Goggin. He died about thirty years ago. There is no sign to show that weaving was ever carried on in the district except the old ruins that still remain there.
My grandfather who is