play, and no noise other
than the music. No bare feet, no bare heads, no rags, no dirt, no
disorder. A Papist sprang from his lair in a side street and tried to
snatch the scarf from a young man, who promptly drove him back to his
den. Nothing else happened. At midnight there were for the whole city
twenty police cases against thirty-nine for last year's twelfth. So
much for Orange rowdies in the streets. Let us look upon their private
orgies.

At seven o'clock I went to the Orange Hall, Clifton Street, the
headquarters of the body. The various lodges were dispersed in several
rooms, where they seemed to be taking tea with their sisters and their
cousins and their aunts. A turn outside landed me opposite Saint
Patrick's Roman Catholic Church, and here was a strong guard of
police. The neighbouring streets of Carrick Hill, North Street, and
another, literally swarmed with filthy, bare-footed women, wearing the
hooded shawl of Limerick, of Tuam, of Tipperary. The men had a
dangerous look. Many were drunk, and some had bandaged heads. More
policemen half-way down Carrick Hill, and more still at the end. The
people who pay no taxes cost most to keep in order. I have somewhere
seen a body of returns showing that while the Unionist population
requires only ten or twelve policemen to every ten thousand people,
the Home Rule provinces take from forty-eight to fifty-two to manage
the same number. Returning to the Orange Hall a number of dirty,
bare-footed children walked in procession past the door singing
vociferously. They sung with great spirit to the tune of "Tramp,
tramp, tramp, the boys are marching," and seemed to enjoy it
amazingly. I did not catch the words. They stopped as I came up, but a
young fellow on guard at the hall said, "They grind up the children in
songs of a party nature, and send them here to annoy us. Of course, we
can't notice little children."

This time I dropped in the thick of the entertainment. A mild, mild
man occupied the chair, young men and maidens, old men and children
sitting around. They were inebriating on ginger beer and biscuits, and
their wildest revelry was the singing of "The Old Folks at Home" by a
young lady in white. Mr. E.J. Fullwood, of Birmingham, who was there
as a visitor, made a rattling speech, and received a great ovation. A
quiet gentleman, by special request, made a few remarks on the
political situation. He said:--"We will resist a Home Rule Parliament
at any cost and a