, and looked across the Green
to the College of Surgeons.

"It's still flying," he muttered as he watched the tri-colour flowing in
the wind.

9

And now the Rebellion began to bore him. He could not work, and the
walks he could take were circumscribed. He walked down to Trinity
College and stood there, watching the soldiers on the roof of the
College as they fired up Dame Street to where some Sinn Feiners were in
occupation of a newspaper office, or along Westmoreland Street towards
the Post Office. Wherever he went, there was the sound of bullets being
fired ... but after a while, the sound ceased to affect him. There were
snipers on many roofs ... and people had been killed by stray bullets
... but, although the sudden crack of a rifle overhead made him jump,
the boredom grew and increased. He wanted to get on with his work....

The soldiers were pouring into Dublin now ... more and more of them.

"It'll be over soon," he said to himself.

It seemed to him then that the thing he would remember always was the
dead horse which still lay on the pavement, becoming more and more
offensive. Wherever he went, he met people who said to him, "Have you
seen the dead horse?" Impossible to forget the corrupting beast,
impossible to refrain from saying too, "Have you seen the dead horse?"
Magnify that immensely, increase enormously the noise, and one had the
War! Noise and stench and dead men and boredom!...

He wandered about the streets, seeing the same people, listening to the
same statements, making the same remarks, wondering vaguely about food.
He had seen high officials carrying loaves under their arms, and little
jugs of milk....

"I wish to God it was over," he exclaimed. "I'm sick of this ...
idleness!"

He spoke to a soldier in Merrion Square. "Do you like Dublin?" he said.

"Oh, fine!" he answered. "We've been treated champion. I 'aven't seen
much of it yet, of course," he went on. "I've been 'ere ever since I
landed!" He pointed to the pavement. "But I know this bit damn well. You
know," he went on, "we thought we was in France when we arrived 'ere.
Couldn't make it out when we saw all the signs in English. I says to a
chap, as we was walking along, ''I,' I says, 'is this Boolone?' 'Naow,'
'e says, 'it's Ireland.'"

"And what did you say?" said Henry.

"I said 'Blimey!'" He moved to the kerb as the soldier further along the
street called "Pass these men along" and when he had called the warning
to t