e of the Misses Brown, in which
on Christmas Eve shots were fired, by way of celebrating the festive
season. From a clump of trees some four hundred yards from the road
the police on a car were fired upon, the horse being shot dead in his
tracks. The tenantry of this sweet district are keeping up their rifle
practice, and competent judges say that the Bodyke men possess not
less than fifty rifles, none of which can be found by the police. Said
one of the constabulary, "They lack nerve to fire from shorter
distances, as they think MacAdam is the better shot, and to miss him
would be risky, as he is known to shoot rabbits with ball cartridge.
At the same time, I remember Burke of Loughrea, who was shot, had
also a fine reputation as a rifleman, but they settled him neatly
enough. I saw him in the Railway Inn, Athenry, just before he was
killed, with a repeating rifle slung on his back and a revolver on his
hip. I saw him ride away, his servant driving while Burke kept the
cocked rifle ready, the butt under his armpit, the trigger in his
hand. He sat with his back to the horse, keeping a good look-out, and
yet they shot both him and his servant as they galloped along. The
horse and car came in without them. To carry arms is therefore not a
complete security, though no doubt it is, to some extent, a deterrent.
But my opinion is that when a man is ordered to be shot he will be
shot. Clare swarms with secret societies, and you never know from one
moment to another what resolutions they will pass. I don't know what
the end of it will be, but I should think that Home Rule, by giving
the murderers a fancied security, would in this district lead to
wholesale bloodshed. The whole country would rise, as they do now, to
meet the landlord or his agent, but they would then do murder without
the smallest hesitation."

His companion said--the police here are never alone--"The first thing
Morley did was to rescind the Crimes Act. When we heard of that we
said 'Now it's coming.' And we've got it. Every man with a head on
him, and not a turnip, knew very well what would happen. The police
are shot at till they take no notice of it. Sometimes we charge up the
hills to the spot where the firing started, but among the rocks and
ravines and hills and holes they run like rabbits, or they hand their
arms to some fleet-footed chap to hide, while they stay--aye, they do,
they actually stand their ground till we come, and there they are
working at