s no bigger than yourself walking along the roads to school in that
splendid estate could jump up on the ditch and make good speeches.

"My cousin's minute books--he was secretary of everything--would stock a
book-shop, and were noted for beautiful expressions. He was the author
of ten styles of resolution construction. An enemy christened him
Resolving Kavanagh. Every time he resolved to stand where he always
stood he revolved. Everybody put up at his house. He was seen in more
torchlight processions than Bryan O'Lynn. A room in his house was
decorated in a beautiful scheme of illuminated addresses with border
designs from the Book of Kells. The homes of the people were full of
the stumps of burned-down candles, the remains of great illuminations
for my cousin whenever he came out of prison. I tell you no lie when I
say that that clumsy cousin of mine became clever and polished, all
through pure practice. He had the best of tutors. The skin of a landlord
in the London garret, his agents, their understrappers, removable
magistrates, judges, Crown solicitors, county inspectors of police,
sergeants, constables, secret service men,--all drove him from fame to
fame until in the end they chased him out the only gap that was left
open to the like of him--the English Parliament. Think of the streak of
that man's career! And there was I, a man of capacity and brains, born
with the golden spoon of talent in my mouth, dead to the world in
Gobstown! I was rotting like a turnip under the best and the most
accursed of landlords. In the end I could not stand it--no man of spirit
could.

"One day I took down my ashplant, spat on my fist, and set out for my
cousin's place. He gave me no welcome. I informed him as to how the land
lay in Gobstown. I said we must be allowed to make a name for ourselves
as the producers of a shining example of a landlord. My cousin let his
head lie over a little to one side and then said, 'In this country
shining examples ought only be used with the greatest moderation.' He
looked out through the window and after some time said, 'That Gobstown
landlord is the most dangerous lunatic in all Ireland.' 'How is that?'
said I. 'Because,' said my famous cousin, 'he has a perfect heart.' He
put his head over to the other side, looked at me and said, 'If Gobstown
does not do something he may be the means of destroying us all.' 'How?'
said I. 'He may become contagious,' said my cousin. 'Only think of his
example be