#198 LINKS WITH BYGONE DAYS OF YORE

#198 LINKS WITH BYGONE DAYS OF YORE

LINKS WITH BYGONE DAYS OF YORE —Grattan and Flood wrote for this very paper, the editor cried in his face. Irish volunteers. Where are you now? Established 1763. Dr Lucas. Who have you now like John Philpot Curran? Psha! —Well, J. J. O’Molloy said, Bushe K.C., for...
#197 SUFFICIENT FOR THE DAY

#197 SUFFICIENT FOR THE DAY

SUFFICIENT FOR THE DAY… J. J. O’Molloy, smiling palely, took up the gage. —My dear Myles, he said, flinging his cigarette aside, you put a false construction on my words. I hold no brief, as at present advised, for the third profession quaprofession but your Cork legs...
#196 RHYMES AND REASONS

#196 RHYMES AND REASONS

RHYMES AND REASONS Mouth, south. Is the mouth south someway? Or the south a mouth? Must be some. South, pout, out, shout, drouth. Rhymes: two men dressed the same, looking the same, two by two. ........................ la tua pace .................. che parlar ti...
#195 CLEVER, VERY

#195 CLEVER, VERY

CLEVER, VERY —Clever, Lenehan said. Very. —Gave it to them on a hot plate, Myles Crawford said, the whole bloody history. Nightmare from which you will never awake. —I saw it, the editor said proudly. I was present. Dick Adams, the besthearted bloody Corkman the Lord...
#194 A DISTANT VOICE

#194 A DISTANT VOICE

A DISTANT VOICE —I’ll answer it, the professor said, going. —B is parkgate. Good. His finger leaped and struck point after point, vibrating. —T is viceregal lodge. C is where murder took place. K is Knockmaroon gate. The loose flesh of his neck shook like a cock’s...