eats. Let out to graze. Best moment
to attack one in pudding time. A punch in his dinner. A squad of others,
marching irregularly, rounded Trinity railings making for the station.
Bound for their troughs. Prepare to receive cavalry. Prepare to receive
soup.

He crossed under Tommy Moore's roguish finger. They did right to put him
up over a urinal: meeting of the waters. Ought to be places for women.
Running into cakeshops. Settle my hat straight. _There is not in this
wide world a vallee_. Great song of Julia Morkan's. Kept her voice up to
the very last. Pupil of Michael Balfe's, wasn't she?

He gazed after the last broad tunic. Nasty customers to tackle. Jack
Power could a tale unfold: father a G man. If a fellow gave them trouble
being lagged they let him have it hot and heavy in the bridewell.
Can't blame them after all with the job they have especially the young
hornies. That horsepoliceman the day Joe Chamberlain was given his
degree in Trinity he got a run for his money. My word he did! His
horse's hoofs clattering after us down Abbey street. Lucky I had the
presence of mind to dive into Manning's or I was souped. He did come a
wallop, by George. Must have cracked his skull on the cobblestones. I
oughtn't to have got myself swept along with those medicals. And the
Trinity jibs in their mortarboards. Looking for trouble. Still I got to
know that young Dixon who dressed that sting for me in the Mater and now
he's in Holles street where Mrs Purefoy. Wheels within wheels. Police
whistle in my ears still. All skedaddled. Why he fixed on me. Give me in
charge. Right here it began.

--Up the Boers!

--Three cheers for De Wet!

--We'll hang Joe Chamberlain on a sourapple tree.

Silly billies: mob of young cubs yelling their guts out. Vinegar hill.
The Butter exchange band. Few years' time half of them magistrates and
civil servants. War comes on: into the army helterskelter: same fellows
used to. Whether on the scaffold high.

Never know who you're talking to. Corny Kelleher he has Harvey Duff in
his eye. Like that Peter or Denis or James Carey that blew the gaff on
the invincibles. Member of the corporation too. Egging raw youths on to
get in the know all the time drawing secret service pay from the castle.
Drop him like a hot potato. Why those plainclothes men are always
courting slaveys. Easily twig a man used to uniform. Squarepushing up
against a backdoor. Maul her a bit. Then the next thing on the menu. And